The Hero Dies

She pulled him up so, even though he was leaning heavily against her, he was standing. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her. She wrapped her arms around him in return, resting his hesd on her shoulder and cradling it in her hand.

"You poor boy." She murmured softly to him. "You tried so hard and look where it got you."

With her free hand, she grabbed one of the arrows protruding from his back. The shaft was sticky with blood. Yet instead of pulling it out, she began to slowly push it further in. She felt his body stiffen in pain and fear. She savored the warmth of his blood as it began to flow over her hand.

When the arrowhead rested against his heart she stopped. She could sense his struggle. He wanted to pull away, wanted to stand defiantly before her. He  wanted desperately to be free of her grasp, but was too weak to do anything but groan in his pain and torment.

She pushed his head closer against her shoulder, fingers gripping his hair. Her lips brushed his ears as she spoke. "I would have given you everything. I would hear sheltered you from all this misery and suffering. You and I- the two of us  could have ruled the world. We could have lived forever. All you had to do was say the word. One simple, little word."

She pushed on the arrow again. Through her magic, she felt the chords that tethered his soul to his body being cut as the arrow pierced his heart. She felt the life drain from him and the light of his soul fade.

As his body went limp, she let him fall. His lifeless body hit the ground with a dull thud. She looked down at it as it lay there, eyes open and staring at the grey sky.

Finally she uttered, "All you had to do was say, 'Yes.'"

Dead Bodies. For Real.

Now there were two in the middle of her living room floor. She stared at them in horrified fascination, not really sure whether to scream or give in to her curiosity and move closer. There was an obscene amount of blood. It was pooling on her carpet and being seeped up into her couch through the blanket that had fallen half to the floor.

Finally, against her better judgment, she decided to embrace her curiosity. Careful not to step on or disturb anything, she loved watching cop shows, she moved closer to the nearest body. There was a hole in the middle of his forehead. What she could only guess was brain matter was splattered with the blood around his head. His face was frozen in a look of shock, eyes wide open and unfocused.  She moved to the other body. This one's eyes were closed. Staring at the body, it's eyes closed and the haphazard placing of the limbs, she reasoned that he had been wounded before the struggle in her apartment. Apparently, after struggling with and shooting the other man, he passed out and bleed to death.

After staring at the bodies for a few more moments, she called the police. Then, she went down to the building's coffee shop to wait. As she waited, she pondered all the reasons of why and how as she sipped her coffee. In her mind, of all the questions these two bodies proposed, the most disturbing one was, "Why were they in her apartment?"

A Hell On Earth

It was so strong that she tasted it in her mouth. The carnage was overwhelming. Bloody instruments and tables lay scattered through out the room. Buckets filled with blood and other fluids were also placed here and there. A half mutilated body lay on one table, still strapped down. It was nauseating. Beyond the room, there was a long hallway that had been converted into a type of cell block. The smell of unwashed bodies mixed with the stench of decomposing ones. Some of the inhabitants of the cells were able to come to come to there doors, begging for release. Others, many with gangrenous wounds simply remained where they were. If there was a hell on earth, this was it.

Only a Name

Literally. Up and down his arms, across his chest. Even all over his back and legs. They were written in different styles and sizes, but the were all my name. I knew this because no one spells their name the way I do, well, no one on their right mind anyway. Thanks Mom, whoever who are.

"Why do you have my name written all over your body?" I asked, dreading the answer.

He have me a sheepish look and answered, "Honestly, I have no idea. "

"What do you mean you have no idea?!?!" I shouted and he flinched. "It's all over you! That doesn't happen by accident."

"They kinda just......appear." He answered, not looking at me anymore.

"They just appear." I echoed. My voice dripped with sarcasm and skepticism.

"Ever since I turned eighteen they've been showing up. No explanation, no reason. There's not even a set number of days in between when they appear. No set time either."

I staggered and flopped down in a chair. This was too much. Not only was there some guy that had my name written all over him; but he didn't eve know why it was there. What in the world was going on? This was like some crazy sci-fi scenario. This couldn't be happening. It-

"Uh, excuse me," his words brought me out of my racing thoughts, "can I put my clothes on now?"

A New Me

My current one was getting a little too popular. I had just gotten comfortable with it too. Finally, it didn't take people calling my name two or three times because I didn't realize they were talking to me. Luckily, they just thought I was deaf or deep in thought. But now everyone knew my name, and I do mean everyone. That's what happens when your name is broadcasted in the evening news with the tagline "Wanted for Murder. Considered armed and dangerous. If seen, please call your local law enforcement or the FBI hot-line listed below. Do not confront or antagonize." They didn't have a photo yet, but they would soon. The fix for that was easy. A little shave and some dye and I'd be a "new" man. I also kept a stash of colored contacts for times like this. My name however, that would be harder to change. Not just on paper, but in my head. Once again, I would have to train my self to answer to a new name. One of these days, I am going to forget what name I started out with. Further more, the next time a strange body appears in my living room I will get rid of it and disappear immediately. No trying to figure out who it is or why they're dead. Once the body's gone, I'm gone.

It's Not the End

He closed his eyes and lay still.

The fight had lasted two, maybe three minutes, but it had seemed to go on forever. Guns were fired, knives had been drawn, and punches were thrown. There were many times that he thought the fight would end then and there, only for it to be drawn out. Eventually, however, it was over. He didn't swagger away like the guys in the movies. He was on the ground, gasping for breath, every inch in pain. After a moment, he took a deep breath, held it, and slowly let it out. Then, groaning, he staggered to his feet and walked away. Fighting six (or was it seven?) guys was exhausting.

An Inconvenient Body

inconvenient. Yes, that was the word for the body lying on the floor. Inconvenient. It had a nice ring to it. Not panicky, but not completely lacking in concern either. It simply meant that a day full of convenience would have to wait. Life was like that sometimes. Well, most of the time really. Stuff always happened when you really wished it wouldn’t. Babies came before they were due, multi-car pile-ups occurred when you were running late to an important business meeting, dead bodies appeared unannounced and uninvited on your living room floor, the list could go on and on. It wouldn’t do any good to get frustrated over a little inconvenience. At least there wasn’t two.