And then it was over. He sat/fell down, breathless. Every muscle in his body relaxed, simply because they finally could. A rush of joy shot through his weary body as he wiped the sweat off his brow, grinning broadly. He pulled his scraggly, curly auburn hair off his face, and felt the dampness in it. It was necessary, but now over. With a loud sigh he sat crosslegged and and uttered only, "Well". He chuckled to himself and ran his hand through his hair again, the lesser bloodied hand of course. The fear and anger were replaced at once with incredible relief and a sense of something greater... closure perhaps. The dwindling sunlight was still sufficient to take a look at his ailments, the external ones at least. He was sure he'd be urintaing blood for at least a week as well as anything he found slashed to hell on the outside. The flesh of his right forearm was torn wide open, to the point where he could trace the bone with his index finger. It was the most obvious and serious looking abrasion he could see. Of course, he couldn't see those broken ribs, now could he? Naw. That was of course, the worst other than his pinky finger. Y'see, it just wasn't there. He looked at the stump with geniune dismay which would have seemed comical under other circumstances. "Oh no... I almost forgot." Yes, it had been bitten off. But it's over! Oh, how it is finally gone, and all behind him but the inevitable nightmares. The black eyed monster had taken up far too much of his life recently, but now there it lay... in a broken heap of teeth, bones and blood from the both of them. The look upon its face, known by so many names, but in Paris, Ontario as "Mr. Terrance" was the one it carried in life... grim, masochistic pleasure, a sneering smile without humor. But it was over, and now he struggled to rise up on tender cramped muscles, to stand over top of the man called "Mr. Terrance" who was no man at all. It's head was still oozing a grainy black fluid which was as grotesque as the rest of him. He took his foot that was still mostly boot-clad and brought it down slowly with power upon its patchwork scalp, finishing the job of crushing his skull that the pipe had begun. But now... now it was over.

Back

This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page