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ILLICIT: THE START OF THE CARNAGE

COPYRIGHT BY EIREN MORNE 2012

SMASHWORDS EDITION



There were six choices I gave myself when I decided to die. 
First was morphine. But I did not know where to get some.
Second was drug overdose. But I did not know which drugs to take.
Third was hanging but I could not find any strong rope.
Fourth was the traditional wrist-slicing. But I did not have the guts to do that.
Fifth was bashing my head against the wall. But that may just make me unconscious and give me terrible headache when I wake up.
Last was throwing myself out of the window. 
Interesting and attractive. This is the only realistic option I have. Maybe I thought about fantastical ones because I did not really want to die after all. Jumping out of the balcony was the only way viable and true option that I have to die. I wanted to die today no matter what. I needed to die. Or else, the police will just catch me and torture me. They will get me soon because I was so stupid. I was so careless. I did not know what to do. Well, it was not as if I am used to committing a crime. I left tracks everywhere and in no time, they will find me, they will know that it is me who is the killer. Besides I know that they will not send me to prison. They will just kill me right then and there because I was a monster. A sad but devastatingly beautiful monster. I am now just beginning to comprehend what I have done.
I sat on the edge of the balcony. One small step and I will plunge forty-four feet down the building and hit the pavement in a sickening crunch. I will die, I guess. I researched the minimum number of floors that a person must jump from so he could die fast. And this is all so perfect. Why won’t I? I will be sensation anyway. My unit will be a testament to my own insanity.
But what I did was get the key to my unit. In one gulp, I swallowed it. I coughed and choked for it got stuck in my throat. I thought I would die of choking but thankfully three glasses of water finally made it come down to my stomach. 
I am ready.
I walked around the apartment. I peeked at the kitchen and looked inside the refrigerator. But I had to close it almost immediately to keep more blood from flowing into the floor. The whole unit was so bloody anyway. A whole veritable mess.  It was an investigator’s paradise. One could take specimen and samples all week long. There were blood and gore everywhere. In the sale, a dark coagulating muck was crumbling on the center of the floor. It made me vomit which mixed with the sludge.
I am ready. I ran across the room and in one giant leap I jumped off the balcony. I felt free, I felt safe. The wind was ringing in my ears as I descend and suddenly, my heart beat like crazy. I suddenly felt afraid, a whole, consuming fear that I made a huge mistake. I flailed my arms as if I wanted to fly away and save myself but too late. In a matter of seconds, I will hit the street below. It actually took much shorter than that. 
***
You might probably be wondering why I am still alive and why I am still telling you this story. Was I a survivor? Yes, I could call myself that. But I am now irrevocably incomplete, paralyzed and rendered useless metaphorically. But the real question was why, why am I still alive.
The street hit my head in a loud bang that crushed my skull. My brains exploded everywhere. My face was no longer a face but a chunk of bloody meat. God, it was truly a pain that no man could ever live through. I was still alive when I landed. All over my body, I felt intense agony as all my bones and internal organs were damaged heavily. I spat out some of my teeth and I just cried, cried so bad. People began to flock all around me. I could not see them or implore them because my eyeballs are also crushed and turned to mush. I was making strange sounds and murmurs. “Don’t move him. Stand back,” I heard people say. I just sobbed out my thick tears of blood, gurgled and moaned like a cat in heat. Pain everlasting and I thought it will never end.
But suddenly, it finally did.
I felt strong hands pulling me up, making me stand on my own two feet. And to my surprise, I was able to stand and hold myself up. The pain was entirely gone and now replaced by an extreme lull of luminous lightheadedness, a king of feeling you get after a real good high or a drug overdose of fancy party drugs. In front of me stood a beautiful person. I could not discern if he or she was a woman or not because his face has an indeterminable androgyny somewhat similar to the angel Gabriel in the movie Constantine. Tilda Swinton… what I would do just to fuck her again. But now I am dead and these fantasies are nothing.
Going back, the person in front of me was entirely naked and there were two great gray wings sprouting out of her back. The feathers were huge and majestic and they were all glowing gold and silver. There were even immeasurable symbols written on it. Then the angel spoke.
“My name is Kyriel. I am the guardian angel sent to you to help you.” He took me into his arms and hugged me. He kissed me on the lips. I opened up my lips to catch more of her luscious mouth but it was only a brief smack.
“Why did you do it my love? Such a terrible crime?”
I wanted to answer immediately. “I am sorry. I did not know what came into me. I did not know what to do. What else should I do but die and suffer for my sins,” I replied.
He shook his head. “Death is never an answer. Never. It is merely an option that must be forgotten or only given in the most impossible circumstances. God never meant his creatures to die anyway. It will never give you the solace you seek.”

“But what kind of god will allow a creature like me to still live?”
“God. The god and heir of this world. The great mehomathi also called Pharoshath also called Jesus Christ. He created us to give life and to live. His power is dedicated to taking care of us and giving life.”
“Why am I here?”
“Your body is dead but your soul is immortal. It still breathes eternal although it has been detached from your sad lonely corpse. I have some important things to tell you but first, I wanted to ask you why did you do such a horrid crime?”
I remembered my boyfriend’s face, her sweet, bitter, desperate smile when I drove the stirring rod in his ass to start a bleeding. “He wanted to die. He asked me to kill him.”
“But you know that she did not want that. It was her sorrow speaking.”
That was right. He begged me to bring him to the hospital. He cried and asked me for some mercy but I was scared to move. He died sobbing and losing blood by the torrents.
“I wanted to save him. But I know I cannot do anything to save him. It was to die or be killed. I chose the second option.”
“But what was interesting is what you did next. You simply did not kill him and your baby. You waited until he lost consciousness, watching porn movies while he bled all his guts out. When he was dead, you opened him up with a knife, gutting him like a fish then took the still throbbing liver and heart, twisting in your hand. Then you opened your mouth and started eating it.”
I cannot look at his face. I felt shame that someone so beautiful could be speaking about my crime.

“”I am so intrigued and curious about your actions. Tell me, did you enjoy it? Did you like the taste of human flesh? I am sorry but it just makes me excited. I have forgotten what human flesh tasted. Was it delicious enough to make you go mad?”
“In fact, it really did. It tasted something between a really hot and thick and fresh ballot and crab and corn soup. I went to the kitchen and added some salt in my mouth. It was a feast. The fetus was so small, barely three months old so was it juicy and chewy in my mouth. I then drank a whole bottle of wine without any remorse.

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