Monster
Metal on metal. You pull it back and look at the casing sitting in the slide. The oil rubs off on your hands. The odd feeling that this isn’t the right thing to do. You look at your tainted hands. They won’t stop shaking. You take a deep breath. You try to do it quickly. The fingers on your hand stiffen the closer it gets to your head. The salty liquid from your eyes runs into the corners of your mouth. Your tongue dry, it softens when you open your mouth to whine. The tears are soon joined by oil. Your tongue tightens as the taste of oil, tears and gunpowder cover the inside of your mouth.
Metal on flesh. It happened so fast you felt nothing. Your last moments fill chilling mind. The retrieval of your grandfather’s pistol. The writing of your goodbye letter. Those tears filling your mouth.
It would be the moments you would relive for the rest of the afterlife.
That putrid concoction dwelling in your mouth. The smell of your bowels releasing as you lay on the floor in your own thick, burgundy blood. You look at yourself out of your body. Pathetic. Selfish. Lonesome. Foolish. You take one last glimpse before leaving the body completely.
Nylon through flesh. They pick the back half of your skull up off the ground. The sowing of the hopeless remains of a tainted human being. They lift the sack of room temperature organs.
Flesh on metal.
The skin makes a sickly sound of squishing tomatoes underneath their feet. They latch on your mutilated skull the harness of a psychopath. They strap your lifeless limbs down to the table. They force open your eyes and say,
You’ll be back soon.
Electricity through nerves. Flesh off metal. Flesh touching flesh.
