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Hearts Necks And Other Things That Break |
| Written by Evan Dover | |
| Tuesday, 27 May 2008 | |
The hail shattered and clacked as it crashed against the roof. The sun was concealed by the dark clouds which blanketed the sky. The entire road and surrounding houses had no life at all at this moment. No one was to be seen and the only movement visible other than the hail was the faint flicker of the street lamps. Other than the electricity, or lack there of, everything was a normal day. Save the house two houses down from the corner of the block- it was 658 on Donnelly Road. From an outward perspective, the house had the same story as the others. But on the inside, something more deadly was to be told. It wasn't a very big home; no, in fact, it was quite small. But that and the colonial style of the house gave it a nice, warm feel. But something had changed the mood of this home. The house was very open; the rooms were connected by large doorways and the few large windows brought in light. There were two figures in a room. The room seemed to have the window, but another room that was in front of it had a wide doorway that let in all the light. Both of the figures were lying down. There was a man who was covered in blood who was lying across the floor. He had several slashes about his body, one chiefly across the neck, and he seemed to be motionless. He was also missing fingers. The other figure, who was lying against the couch, was a woman. She had a bloody face and bloody hands. She also had several scratches about her arms and a gash on her head. Needless to say, the room was rather blood-covered and there were numerous things knocked about. The inside of the house was nearly as still as outside of the house. Save the dripping blood, the woman was the only thing that had any movement. Every now and again, she would twitch beside the gory knife that lay beside her. She suddenly moved around more and groped about with her arms. Her eyes slowly opened as she regained consciousness. Cautiously, she stood and stared at the blood. Her memory was sundered from this reality; but she quickly had a small vision of what happened. She could see a knife. And as she glanced down at the blade on the floor, she realized that what she envisioned was not fantasy. For an unknown reason, she bent low and picked up the blade. Then she moved a swift glance to the body at her feet. The blade felt heavy in her hand. Her heart felt as if the knife had pierced deep within it. She did not know who this man was, but she held the blade steadfast through her feelings. Just then, like she was recalling something, she had another image in her mind. Again, it was the blade; but now it was in the man. Indeed, her memory of what had happened- even if she had ever known at all- seemed to be all vanquished. In fact, she could not remember much of anything. It wasn't a very temporary forgetfulness; no, she seemed to forget almost everything, save several things. But things started coming back to her in strange pieces; however those pieces about what had happened came more slowly. Now, somewhat reluctant, she turned and faced the windows in the front of the house. Like a flash, she saw herself holding the dead man's hand while it seemed that they were walking into the room that she awoke in. But that hardly lasted and hastened away, and she took small heed to it. She soon came to the wall and looked outside the window. The gloom that endured outside matched the gloom in her heart. She scanned the hailing scene and saw something. She soon discerned it wasn't something; no, it was someone. A long-black-haired man stood in the yard clad completely in black. His white skin blended with the background as if he was created with this horrible weather. He stared directly at her and tightened his grip on what he was holding- a double bladed axe. The axe was very keen and, though the blood on one side of the blade, it seemed unused. If it had been offered any light to do so in, it would have most likely glistened like a dim star on a dark night. She had no memory of him. She did not even take heed to him either. Strange as it seems, she actually had no care about the man outside. She now calmly passed along the room with the dining table. She passed the assumed foyer which held the front door and entered a small study-like room. It had a desk with many papers and a chair behind that. There was also a plant and a small cabinet.
She gave a quick stare back to the man outside- he remained still in the same place-, and then she turned, paused, and then scrutinized the cabinet for a brief second. She saw it was bloodied and something was on it. Actually, a few things. On the small cabinet, there sat four fingers bathed in blood. One had a gold band on it. At the same time she glanced down at her hand and saw an identical band, another memory awoke this time. Now it wasn't so much a vision, but instead, she remembered that she was married to this man. Even with this memory awoken, she showed no emotion. When she saw herself hit the corner of the end table by the couch, she remembered everything. She walked towards the window again and saw the man in black now looking away. She glanced down and spoke to herself: "Yes, I killed him. And if grace would befall me, I would do so again." With that, she dropped the knife and it stabbed the floor with a deep ring. She then looked through the window and the man was gone.
Copyright 2008 Evan Dover |
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