twoidiotsonetypewriter - Tumblr blog

[twoidiotsonetypewriter]

Hi. I’m dying anyways, so here are my words from the grave. The first time I killed a man. Oh boy was that a long time ago, but I can still remember it like it was yesterday. It was a crisp autumn day and a cool electric charge was in the air. I had a loose .33 in my tacky leather coat - God, I had bad taste. Alls aside, I was walking on Second street and Maine near that pizza place I love. You know “pizza popinen da daa?” And I had a paper bag in my left hand full of stolen money. He was young - a cop - and very nervous. Beads of sweat budded on his clean-shaven face as locks of golden hair rolled down his shoulders. His eyes darted about with anticipation. I turned the Bum corner and…. And he was right there, clear as day. He had to be worried to not notice me walking. All he said was a fragmented word as I pulled out the .33 and shot him in the chest. Time slowed for me and I can remember that second and have remembered it every day since. I saw his blue eyes dull as his soul leapt, from his body pushing him to the asphalt. The murky sky was reflected in those dead eyes. I held his lifeless body and howled.

I ran like hell out of there after that, tears leaping from my face; I jumped from railing to railing.

Ah, I know. Now you know the first, I can tell you about the murder that still lingers in my mind. This was years after the first, and by then I had pretty much flown straight (and not gotten caught - 27 times to be exact). I was a military man now, fightin’ the commies in the desert or whatever. I can’t remember too much, except for one day. It was a hazy, scorching, dry day in the desert. I was loaded with all my gear and my weapon clanked against the chain on my back. As I walked and walked and walked and the shoulder straps bore into my shoulders. It was so sudden, a massive noise and a shriek -- then my friend’s shrieks. Agony was in the air and it was all I could feel. I looked around and my friends were everywhere; scattered chunks and dismembered limbs lay strewn around a crater of shrapnel. Everything went fuzzy for a moment and I thought I was going to pass out. Out of sheer willpower and necessity I rose up and saw the man running at me. He was shorter, obviously weaker, possibly less experienced? Soon enough, he pulled out a dagger forged from an amalgam of scraps. I grabbed his arm and, surprised, he tripped. That’s when I was tackled and my gun misfired. It struck the boy in the forehead and his soul departed, thrusting his body into the barren dirt. A final pink floom of blood spewed out into the wind. I laid there and I felt like I was going into shock. My leg was bleeding a lot. I felt my soul trying to escape.

I stumbled over to the boy and rolled him over. I didn’t care if he had a bomb strapped to him I needed to see his face. I desperately ripped off his mask and helmet. He was a kid, not even in puberty. His dull brown eyes only reflected myself. When they found me, they left him behind.

I went home and I was praised as a hero -- I guess for some heroism is killing kids who don’t even know what they’re fighting for. But I got rewards and benefits but never a shoulder, never a person to talk to. So I went back to life as normal.

Having assumed you’ve not skimmed and now know of my two deepest secrets. I have a tale to unravel. It goes like this: One day a boy named - , was walking happily with his family. A year later only has a father. The next and he’s walking alone. Of course he’s still young and small but he walks with purpose. There is a happiness about him that no one has seen before and they tell him their condolences. He responds with nods and smiles but never thanks. He inherited enough to get through at least a few years - if he was lucky. Working in his free time he begins to gain purpose and power.

He graduates high school and now has to make the decision to go to college or something else. College isn’t a choice so what else then. He was alone and reclusive. White space was all that filled his life. He lost purpose so what did he do?

Through the window slits a street lamp cast shadows throughout the room. Finally looking in the room without rose colored glasses all the gory roots and hidden secrets were revealed. As warm light illuminated his face he realized, “I can finally rest; “

Amusing, truly a fool's pipe dream - instead he got up and robbed a convenience store.

[twoidiotsonetypewriter]

It was new year's eve in the year 2265 and everyone was impatiently waiting for the ball to drop in Times Square. As the countdown ticked on, the bustle of the new year was prominent. Drunks stumbled about the streets and lovers’ quarrels mended with flimsy promises. When the clock hit midnight it didn’t ring, but between the cheers no one could tell. At that moment the clock stopped and began ticking backwards. When people first noticed, they believed the clock had just broken. The situation became much more dire as newly born babies began to reabsorb into their mothers’ wombs. Healed injuries began to reopen -- a few minor cuts suddenly became fatal wounds. Chaos erupted everywhere as people began to riot and the streets ran red with blood. Then, with a loud crack, time began ticking forwards once more until it reached midnight. That's when the sky began to fall.

More accurately, the ground beneath everyone’s feet disappeared and reappeared over them. Everyone was cast into darkness as all the electricity failed. Those who survived stood as they bled and howled. The earth's molten core had relocated to the exterior. A lonely theoretical physicist shook their head as they bled out into the dirt. Screams filled the air as inside out animals ran about. It was like a chicken pot pie, but we were the vegetables. Shrieks of pain came from everyone and everything as this opposite world spun on. Then suddenly everything was right back how it had been and the clock hands rotated to 10 seconds before midnight. Shock was in the streets as people held their loved ones and wept.

No one truly died but the memories of their gruesome fates lingered. The time, however, seemed to tick slower as if it were waiting for something. Everyone was too distracted to realize that time was stuck a second before midnight. Then the clock chimed and a sense of doom spread like wildfire. In the panic and confusion 8% of the population died - mostly suicides. If only they knew what was coming. Time began to rewind and the souls were sucked back into their corpses, but their wounds didn’t heal. Instead, they festered. Decay spread throughout their bodies as time rewound itself like a spring. Those who were alive when time went back weren’t much better off. Their hearts began to pump backwards. First, the bruises appeared across their body.

Then one popped. Eyes widening in fear, people began to explode everywhere. Pieces of bone were buried into those who lived — embedding a twisted piece of humanity into each one. Time continued to rewind and the sky turned a deep purple. A voice from the heavens bellowed out, “Hoc fecisti tibi.” And then there was less than silence. The meager amount of souls left in their barely walking corpses suffered on as their eardrums rang and left their bodies incapacitated. People began seeing red as irony tears streaked their faces. As the final soul clung to its body for dear life, a gentle hand was placed on their shoulder.

They didn't recognize him, but he wore a long flowing cloak made of the night sky, a milk white face with voids for eyes, and held a staff with a dulled blade. Their struggling stopped the moment he placed his chalky hand on her shoulder. His voice was smooth as silk with an indescribable rasp as he hissed out, “We weren’t supposed to meet like this.” That’s when they embraced him in a tight hug. He reciprocated as a darkened tear fell from his face striking the ground next to them. She held Death as he wept into the earth. She soothed him, she didn’t care who he was, she just wanted him to be ok. As the grim Reaper grieved his chalky whiteness became overtaken with smooth olive skin. A pair of deep brown eyes formed in the voids. His robe transformed into a beautiful tapestry of all the colors. As the pale man wept, her soul finally let go. He knelt down next to the corpse as he mumbled something incomprehensible.

Orcus let out a hum in his hand as he gazed over the field of lost souls. He began to clean.