Killing is easy when you have watched your family suffer every naked indignity. After than using the knives only felt normal and happiness was watching the blood gushing from their necks and stomachs.
And on the last weekend of every month he would go and spend hours upon hours with his friends.
Friends, who though dead, were good friends still.
Ominous radioactive clouds reflect in the ocean under the full moon. “Kiss me, this is it,” I say, and love grows like our cancerous cells.
It was both a gift and a curse that I was with her when she took her last breath.
I truly wanted to be there to comfort her in her last moments, but those empty dead eyes will haunt me for the rest of my life.
When I spoke enviously of Josephine’s long lashes, rosy cheeks and soft curves, the corners of my Samael’s lips lifted, and he let out a low, menacing laugh that sent an erotic chill down my spine. He withdrew his blade and spoke in a hauntingly satisfied murmur to its blood-stained tip: “My love, all skeletons look the same.”
“It was early Spring when we died,” I began, my voice sad. “we didn’t know it yet, but the world was ending that day, and we were just caught in the cracks.”
We have killed the angels before they had time to teach us the following things:
how to smile, how to love, how to tie a shoe, how to pet a cat, how to forgive, how to forget. We are calmer now then we once were , because we have finnaly came to the righteous conclusion that our race is now rightfully absolete.
Bereft of peace, I couldn’t bear the agony of watching my poor doggie’s last moments of life. I turned away, covering my eyes, as the injection went in.
With the one parachute left we had agreed to decide our fate upon the flip of the coin. When I flipped the coin and won, I was startled to find that the co-pilot and the parachute were gone.
After watching people in their last hours at the hospital, she concluded the lungs were the stupidest organs of all. She could never figure out why they insisted on struggling ahead long after the rest of the body seemed to have understood what was happening and given up.
He lied, she lied, he cried, she died. Years later, in a dusty attic box, he found, a post it note she had written; he cried again.
“Wait – don’t jump!” Carly Ann yelled at her big brother who was ready and poised to plummet to (what he thought would be) his death from the window of his second-story bedroom. “Just give me a minute to get up there and I’ll push you off myself!”
I kept looking up at this giant Happy Birthday balloon floating above the cubicle next to me like it was a really tall person’s head staring back in disapproval. Finally I jumped at it with a letter opener and stabbed it to death and everyone though I was trying to stab Kelly until I explained everything to HR and the police and was fired, by not arrested.
It’s cold up here, but that’s my fault, really, for clippin’ my feathers so soon. The roof is a silly place to jump, anyway, since I’ll have to be able to fly my way down, and I ain’t no bird no more.
I had always imagined blazing hot flames, whips and chains, and one hundred tons of pure, physical pain. But if I had known that hell was going to consist of watching over and over again the thing I did to you… well, this is far worse than the punishment I had imagined – and there’s no way to go back.
“Today was the best day of my entire life!” Glen exclaimed with the grin of a madman before stabbing the dagger straight into his heart.
We shouldn’t have been surprised; he had always preached a sell-high mentality.
I must eliminate everything that is wrong with me. Please bid your final farewells and prepare to taste death.
For the very first time I was able to hear the subtle sound of the butterfly’s tiny feet thud softly against the paper-thin petal as it landed weightlessly on the petunia. The world was so quiet now that everyone was dead.
There’s little sense in trying to ration with a barking Yorkie. No way to explain to her that this time, the man she’s grown accustomed to looking out for every evening at a quarter past six isn’t coming back.
Positively believing that we are in the primes of our lives, it is only when we multiply and create offspring that we truly see what the adding of years has done to us and realize that our entire equation served as the means to a product comprised of us yet entirely different. Now that there’s no way to subtract the years and start over again, I am left to wonder if my tiny part in the equation will be remembered down the road long after the calculations are complete, or if all my factors shall fade away.