Memento Mori

She was the object of his affection; he was the love of her life. It all came down this moment, this slow and playful dirge, and the sad melodies of reality. They looked at each other with a remorseful look in their eyes, hungrily wanting the passion they once had. They wished that by some miracle everything would be as it once was. However too much time has passed, too many words had been spoken, too many mistakes had been made, and as much as they wanted the hands of time to go back, time serves no one.

This would be the last moment they would spend together; they knew it was the end. Yet in their hearts they just could not accept it. They longed for each other’s touch badly, each other’s warm embrace, their feel, but it was too late now. Nothing could go back to the way it was back then.
They could not speak, it had been so long since they last saw each other, but they had no words left to say. They knew what was in each other’s hearts, but there were no word that was needed to be spoken.

There was no time for pleasantries, no time for an exchange for kind words. Time for everything had ran out, only a brief small fraction of this world was left and the time for this world was even less. They knew this fact and accepted it within their hearts, but they wished there would have been more time. What little they had time for intimacy, for kisses, for hugs, for lovemaking, for lust, for fights, for reconciling, the common things in every relationship was all but spent. It was all over now; nothing in this world lasts forever, and this play was its end.

It was now the curtain call for them. Everything now had to come to an end, there would be no any moments of reminisce between the two. Time drew short; the woman reached into her purse at her side, and pulled out a gun and placed the barrel firmly against his forehead. He too pulled out a gun from his coat’s pocket and pointed it straight to her head. She was trembling anxiously to pull the trigger, while he was as cool as ice. Shedding a few tears, she closed her eyes, for what reason? Who knows, it didn’t matter up to this point. Driven by empathy for his lover, the man used his free hand to wipe her tears away and caressed her cheek gently. They both knew what had to be done, and they couldn’t escape their destiny. She clenched at the trigger tightly, she resolved to take his life the moment he took hers. He returned the favor and got ready to pull the trigger. She took one last moment to stare into his deep blue, icy cool eyes of his. The woman smiled slightly and whispered, “Memento Mori”. The trigger was pulled; their life together had ended.

The gunshot rang like a bell throughout the entire world, and it woke the man from the ‘reality’ he had been living. He had pulled the trigger before she did and had killed the woman he had left behind him; more importantly, he had killed the woman whom he had loved. Melancholy settled into the confines of his psyche; he had wished deeply it would never come to this conclusion, but this world was at its end and there was no other way it could have been resolved. From a distance, the man could hear a mournful melody. It was a church’s congregation singing a requiem for this doomed world, praying for the souls of the dead, and begging to their god to forgive them of their sins and deliver them from damnation. It was of no use though; this pitiful existence was coming to an end now.

The man looked over to his lover; he hoped that there was a heaven and that she was in peace now. He took comfort in the fact she no longer had to worry about the world around her, how its sorrowful tale was now coming to an end and nothing could stop it. He too grew tired from all the worrying, the constant fear of the inevitable, he too wished for a way out. His gun was of no use to him anymore; it was stained in her blood, and he would rather die by her hands. He reached for the gun his lover had dropped on the floor. It had one bullet in the chamber, intended for the one she loved. Cocking the gun ready, he aimed it to his head. “I love you,” He said. He gazed at serene look on her face for one last time, “…always.” He pulled the trigger and all faded into darkness. Their life together had now begun.




No Name

There was nothing. No crickets, no sound of music next-door. Pure, untainted silence. Even his thoughts left him alone for the briefest moment. But it would not last. Nothing ever lasted that was important, or even slightly important. No, his peace would end, and it would end soon. As soon as they drove the drill all the way into his brain, his peace would be gone. And once again he would be stuck with his thoughts.

How are you, Anthony? Feeling a little ache on the back of your skull? Don't worry, Anthony dear, the pain will go away...The pain will go away, and soon you'll be free. You want to be free, don't you? Yes Anthony, it will be alright soon.

The drill drove in deeper and deeper. His screams of agony reverberated through his bedroom. Opening his eyes, he lunged out at the masked man pushing the drill deeper and deeper. His vision became clouded with blood, but he did not hold back his rage. Delving his hands into the cloth around the masked man, he twisted his hands about, tearing at the face. Soon there were two screams; Anthony's and the man's. Neither of them stopped for a very long time, until another man, a policeman, appeared at the door. Quite a few of them, actually.

They came inside in droves, swarming around Anthony, pointing guns at him. The men told him not to move, but the voices told him to. The voices spoke of longing, of a dream...and that dream could not come true with these men still standing.

"What do you want? What do you want?!" He roared, throwing his fists at the men. They abruptly began to fire, one of them shooting him in the chest. Anthony fell to the ground, immobile from pain. They moved him to a mental ward, but he did not know the difference. It was all the same in his mind. No change of scenery, no influence of humanity. Just...the box. The dream. It lived in his mind, and he gave it form. It was its own dream, but it was also his dream. It was his life.

"Let me out, you bloody bastards!" The doors of his room were shut tightly, made of solid iridium. His fists knew pain as they fell upon the doors, but it was all meaningless to Anthony. What was it if he sacrificed his hands to get out of this place? It meant nothing to lose a part of his body if his mind was to be free. No, it was a price he would be more than willing to pay.

"Contain yourself, sir," a monotonous voice said from the other side.

"I am. I am I am I am. Damnit, who are you?!" His mind clouded over with the voices, each telling him to do something different. One of them said to be silent, for they would let him out if he showed signs of progress. Another said to wait until they fed him, so he could kill the guard and escape. The other said to break down the door, and kill them all. The last voice was the hardest to hear, for it was the quietest of them all. It told him to die, but he could not hear it, not yet.

Hours passed. He had chosen voice number one, for it was the easiest to hear. A guard came after a while and he was sent into another room, where he was told to wait for a doctor to come and give him tests. They locked the doors, and again he started beating on them.

"Contain yourself, sir," the voice repeated.

"Like hell, you bloody bastards, like hell..." Anthony muttered under his breath. "If you won't let me out, I'll make you. I'll make you let me out of this cage, you'll see. You'll all see. It will rise up in ashes, and your bones are the ones I'll dance upon. I'll grind them up and pour the dust in my mouth...You'll see, when your bones are the ones that feed me..."

The door opened then. A doctor came in, and just as soon fell to the ground. The second voice congratulated Anthony for his succinct murder of the man by crushing his skull against the steel plated doors. Running through the building, he became lost. Which hall did he come from? They all looked the same. All white. All long and narrow. All of them pointing in different directions. All of them connected so that you can't even see the walls. It was a ball. A toy to play with him. He continued running, and the ball continued moving. There was no exit.

A hand touched his shoulder, and he jumped away.

"Sir, the exit is that way," the muffled voice said, but it was hardly intelligible anymore. Anthony kept running in his make-believe ball, rolling closer to his path of self-destruction. Suddenly he tripped, and the voices laughed at him. What good was he to them when he could hardly control his own body? Why should they use this vessel, when there are so many others that could do a better job? In fact, if he was so worthless, why let him live at all? But they gave him mercy. They let him keep his mirthless life.

So Anthony continued running, but this time it was along a horizontal path, with vertical lines alongside. He didn't stop to see any of those, he just kept running. Soon he found the path that he wanted to take, and it led him to a small black void on his landscape. Laughing, he praised his god and pulled out his toy, the only one he gave a damn about. He pressed a button and threw it. It exploded. The void shattered, and Anthony saw people in front of him, screaming, bleeding, pleading for God to save them. He ignored them. He was afraid. What if the thing that did that to these people came back? What if it tried to kill him as well?

Running now in fear, he headed to an oblong shape not far from the crime scene. He saw dark shapes appear from it, each one masked in dark cloth that his eyes could not penetrate. Then he heard the voices, each one speaking to him, telling him something else. Finally he heard the fourth voice, the voice of his maker. The voice that told him they could all go to hell, and he could go with them. So he did. He lit the other fuse. It retracted its steps all the way to the gateway of Hell itself and blew, lighting the fires that illuminated Hell's gates. He saw the dark souls gather in the sky, and he felt himself drop. He fell, and continued falling, until soon he hit the bottom. Until the life came out of his lungs, and he simply...stopped living.