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.

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.

Scribbles to Kill For

 He stared at the scribbling on the wall. The entire back wall, ceiling to floor, had been painted to be a gigantic chalkboard. Every inch was covered in mathematical and scientific formulas and scribbles. He knew his father had been obsessive about his work, but this was a bit extreme. There were whiteboards hung from the other walls, also filled with writing. Two tables stood parallel in the center, littered with paperwork and contraptions with no obvious purpose. Plates with half finished food and cups of coffee shared the tables with them. He was a genius in his own right, but even he could not decipher his father's work, but somewhere in this madness was something worth killing for.

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.