Last part!

Indelible part one is under this link here (right click to open in a new window)

Indelible part two is under this link here (right click to open in a new window)

Indelible part three is under this link here (right click to open in a new window)

indelible (part 4)

It was the screaming that brought clarity. Or the vomiting – he didn’t know which.

Matthew had tried to be so careful. He had finished his first name from her left ear and across her throat in an old Italian script. The moment he touched the needle to her skin to begin his surname the skin appeared to disintegrate and the ink bled into her.

He didn’t panic at first, he just held it there watching the maggots crawl out, fascinated by how they made his name come alive as they danced underneath her skin. They started crawling up his fingers and that was when she started screaming. The pitch of her voice could have broken glass and almost immediately the neighbours upstairs started thumping on the floor like some kind of ironic bass beat to her soprano wailing.

And then there was silence.

He looked at her face and for the first time in nearly two weeks he wanted to kiss her. As he leaned over to touch her lips with his own, a fly emerged from her mouth and flew up to his face, hitting him above the eye. He started screaming again.

Matthew stood up and clawed at his own face, the flies around him buzzing their white noise so loudly that he thought they had burrowed inside his head. The neighbour started thumping on the floor again.

He quietened his screams to a whimper as he looked at her body. Where her skin was still intact, he saw the green tinge that his mind had twisted into a backdrop for his art. Matthew saw the beautiful dream world that he had created over her body being slowly eaten alive by maggots and flies; puss and shit seemed to ooze from open sores. The mattress was sodden with her bodily fluids, the stink of which finally hit his stomach.

The vomiting was uncontrollable but brief. He fell down to his knees and tried to breathe. The knife that he had used all those days ago was partially hidden under the bed. He pulled it out and looked at it. It was still stained with her blood. He stood up slowly and started to cry.

‘Don’t cry, Matty,’ she whispered.

Matthew looked at her smiling face and took comfort from it. He allowed the fog to take over his mind again so that he could speak to her.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘I know, Matty. Now you’ve got to come with me…’ She spoke the words kindly, sisterly. ‘Come with me now, Matty.’

Matthew looked at her one last time. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and he had created her. She had completed him.

He lay down on the bed, laid his head on her chest and ran the knife over his left wrist… and then his right.

 

The End.

 

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8 thoughts on “Last part!

  1. It’s me, commenting me! I just wanted to say that I have really battled over this last part. I put alot more words in, went into huge detail and blah, blah but at the end of the day, it is a short story and simplicity should work with the readers imagination to create the whole maybe. I like it like this anyway. I hope you do too. It’s been fun!

    Kiersty x

  2. You know I am a fan of brevity, so this sits well with me.

    But jeeeeeesus… I love my Hitchcock and this is from the darker parts of his world. Very Psycho in the fantasy that is created, the schizophrenia. Horrific, tragic, but beautifully done. If you had said more it could easily have been too much.

    I love the moments where you know, deep down, that she is dead, that he is the one screaming. But we don’t know for sure yet – you won’t tell us, you just refuse to confirm it. An excellent short Kizz, I really really like it. Totally unexpected direction too.

  3. Perfect! Just the right amount of detail to make it truely horrifying and the timing and control are perfect to draw the reader through despite their horror to the last word. Perfect, you should print it out and send it round to some magazines maybe?

  4. Hideous and revolting, but then why am I crying for them both? Your writing rings out all the senses and then hangs them out to dry. I don’t know whether I will read this again, but it will be a long time before I forget it. Whatever you do with your talent, don’t squander it. You have something special.

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