Thursday, April 1, 2010



“Ambition. It’s what separates us from the animals. Not the opposable thumb.” Ambition is what this sick maniac rants as he paces before me with the oversized machete that looks more like a hand saw than a mere blade. Chrome coated in the dried blood of countless victims reminding me of a visit to the doctor. A mad doctor akin to the host of devils living in the static life of the movie screen. A living, breathing version of a Vincent Price character exists before me. Methodically talking and walking like he has a point to it all. Door to door salesman wheeling and dealing his mantra that you can’t ignore. The philosophy of a madman and it’s the last thing I’ll ever hear.

“Now you look like a smart woman.” Smacking his lips between hand gestures that wave the menacing blade to and fro. “Certainly not the type that ends up like this.” As he pointedly motions the tip of Silver Justice toward my present situation. The situation that reminds me of a dog on a leash much more than a victim caught at the brutal arms of a killer. “Hehehahaha” Roars the monster. “Forgive me but you can’t talk…,” he spins around and lifts my chin with the sharp point of his tool. “CAN YOU?” Sick bastard cut out my tongue before gagging me. I jerk beneath the restraints remembering vividly the removal of my instrument of speech. In went the wicked grip out came the fleshy grayish-pink. It’s truly remarkable how important and so very insignificantly small something can be.  Reminded of the loss continues to fuel an insatiable vengeance that only builds as I remain seated. Wanting his neck wrapped within my capable hands of hate. Hands that are securely bound behind my back with no hope of freedom.

“What do you think about the animals? No question of what the day brings. No thoughts about tomorrow. They…” He harshly brings down the back of wrist across my face. Stings. Feeling the redness as it creeps beneath the skin. Losing myself as I imagine the growing shape of pain that spreads. Swelling. Throbbing. Sharp point digs into my left leg bringing me back into the present. Standing before me there is a pause when the knife is removed. Bowing downward to look into my eyes. “You! Still thinking about tomorrow. Tied up. Dying. Without a mouth. And all you can think about is tomorrow.” A howl of hysteria escapes from the jaws of the beast as he stumbles back. “No one to miss you. No one to care. No life. No job. No ambition. Why are you still thinking about tomorrow?” With that frustrated query he tosses the knife at my head. Missing, it hits back of the chair close enough to take an ear off.  Regrouping the blade, madness then steps ten feet back from the scene and pauses. Before returning he issues a loud sigh of relief that echoes the wild call of a feral creature. “Oh actually, I’ve changed my mind, keep thinking about tomorrow… you – may – still - see - it,” meticulously his words are chosen and issued out like it’s a matter of fact. Each syllable brings a slice into my skin. Selected precisely to wound and mock the helpless victim. “Cause I’m just getting warmed up. The real fun… Has – Yet – TO – HAPPEN!” Slice. Slice. Slice. Turn. Pivot. Bow to the audience of none.

Oh! I beg to differ. The fun has already started… SWING! The chair comes up and over my head. Full force connection with face and skull. Down Down. Down falls madness. Loosey goosey. Free. Standing over the maniac with a crazy look that just might frighten him. If he hadn’t already checked out. Rope. Knife. My turn. I’m going to take pleasure in this….

Back of hand makes contact with left side of face. WAKE UP! Screams the blow. You have to watch this. No sleeping through it. You only die once. No one will miss you. I’m going to cut off your fingers one at a time slowly. No one cares. I’m going to slowly pull narrow slits of skin back from your arms and legs. Should have chosen a better profession. When I’m done, then you can have your eyes closed. Shown a little more ambition. Let me start by taking that thumb for you.

Crick… crick… CRACK! In goes the knife. Out goes life. Fingers trail along the curvature of the spine. Cold finding haven at the base of the skull. Red thumbnail traces along the visible lines of skin. Illusion is faster than the mind. “Stay present,” voices the smooth subtle tone of insanity. “You don’t want to miss this! Hehehahaha! Once I’m finished then we can talk about tomorrow...”

April fools!

I’m alive! Another day. One year later. It seemed appropriate to give a story. Oddly I’m still working full circle and completely amazed and shocked by that prospect. Pink White and Red and I didn’t see it before. So much to share and so much I can’t think clear enough to process into something. Burning the candle at both ends for a few more days. Anyhow… VIVA Pranksters. Have a fun day! More coming. Enjoy! M.

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