coming

The stench was almost overwhelming. He looked at the cadaver with cold, calculating eyes. He analysed the body, taking in all details with a practiced eye. Distorted limbs had been twisted to sickening angles. Gaping holes had been torn into flesh. Sinew and muscle had been divided into viscous crimson strands. He noticed the minimal blood staining the victim's clothing, contradicting the obvious amount of havoc wrought to have inflicted such horrific injuries. He slowly stepped around the operating table, his shoes clicking and creaking on the mezzanine floor. He paused.

He looked carefully into the eyes of the carcass. The pupils had been depleted of colour. Where the body itself held a feeling of life, the eyes gave the feeling of absence. The hollow, vacant gaze pierced his resolve and invaded his mind like a serpent's long, slender tendrils writhing and constricting around their prey. He placed 2 fingers on the side of the corpse's throat...

Nothing...

He exhaled quietly and walked to his workbench. He skimmed over the information given from the delivering officers. Name, Birthplace, Rank, Family, none of it was of any relevance. Putting a human face to the most inhuman of tasks would not be beneficial to the cause. He looked back to the still figure, the lifeless eyes still staring at the fluorescent lighting overhead. The lights hummed quietly, the only noise audible in the operating room at this hour. He moved to the sink. The splash of the water on the metal basin cut through the unnerving silence. He dried his hands and started to put on a pair of gloves. He turned back to face the table. He stared at the body as he adjusted the latex that had bunched around his knuckles. He picked up a tray where he kept his medical instruments. He took them to the operating table and placed the tray down with the softest of touches. He pulled his dictaphone from his coat's breast pocket and slowly pushed down the record button.

Body temperature, 35 degrees Celsius and falling.

Numerous tears in the left brachium. Strands of muscle separated, fibrous in texture and appearance. Muscle filaments coated in thick, transparent substance acting as cauterizing agent.

9 punctures found on the subjects left shoulder, in oval formation with 4 inch vertical diameter, centered precisely on the articulatio humeri. Abrasions spaced 0.5 inches apart. Lower 5 punctures with a 0.5 inch shift left. Puncture sample measuring 2.3 inches deep, 0.15 inches radius, tapering to a point, suggesting piercing canines, though this wound is synonymous with all others. Interlocking horizontal distance and wound depth suggest protruding jaws. Cauterizing substance found to line each puncture wound.

Further lacerations found on corpse's jugular. Slight bruising surrounds each abrasion, signs of increase in force in attack. Wound radius 0.35 inches and do not appear to have the perfect symmetry of the humeri abrasions. Closer inspection reveals bruised dermal areas contain slight lacerations and dermal trauma. Puncture depth 2.6 inches. Trachea crushed, severe puncture wounds. Cause of death, crushed windpipe.

He pushed the stop button on his recording device. The buttons clicked back into their original position. He exhaled slowly and placed the dictaphone down onto the table. He removed his gloves with a snap and grabbed the tray carrying his instruments. He emptied the tray into the decontamination bin and slid the tray along the bench towards the sink. He leaned against the bench and turned to face to the operating table once more. He walked back to the table and picked up the dictaphone.

He slowly pushed down the record button. The button clicked as it locked into position.

What is most concerning is the increase in sadistic, machiavellian intelligence. Rather than habitual adequacy, wounds sustained by test subjects indicate a deliberate, prolonged suffering. Further augmentation not recommended.

Devolve

I'm starting to feel myself slip into creative mediocrity. I find so little rewarding and I don't have the drive or motivation to accomplish even the most minor of tasks. I feel completely burnt out and though I'm surrounded by books, music and I have more than enough outlets for creative energy, I just don't want to.

Returning to a punishing martial art seems to be the only thing I can focus on for an extended period of time. I'm surrounded by notepads, brand new books, instruments and anything else I need for a creative outlet, but the will and inspiration to do anything at all is gone. Everything bores me and nothing can thrill me.

Almost everything.

The Fly and the Light

My light flickers slightly. I assume my body is reminding my mind it needs to rest. I look towards the ceiling. The light causes my eyes to water and narrow. I can see movement.

It's a fly.

I squint, to restrict the light. It's a juvenile. It crawls, takes to air for only a second, then lands. I look around for something, anything to catch the mess. I've already decided it will die. It is not harming, bothering or even near me. I don't need to think, it should not be here.

I move towards the fly. My eyes watering from the intensity of the light.

I lose focus.

I turn my head, cursing quietly and blink back tears. I take a few steps backward. It is now at the side of the light. Moving slowly.

Slowly.

I know it doesn't have the capacity to make such mocking movements, but I hate it just a little more.

I lean against the door, watching the fly's oblivious march from the sanctuary of light into inevitable death. I see a tiny garden spider run across the wall to my right. I slam the side of a clenched fist into it... hard. I wipe the mess on my pants and lean back on the door. The fly hasn't moved. It has stopped. I feel it's compound eyes studying me. It can't be thinking. It can't.

The light still hurts my eyes. They start to feel heavy.

I it off and lie in bed. The darkness engulfs me and I slip away.

Inanimate Musings

I'm having a bit of an odd moment. I don't quite feel myself, and to be aware that I'm acting and feeling out of character is quite a surreal experience. I'm not entirely sure what triggered it, but I feel somewhat let down and impatient. I can't find any music that changes my mood, but I need some noise because the cat's constant grooming noises are boring into my brain like a cerebral jackhammer.

I know I'm at my best when I feel good physically. With the positive physical feeling usually comes a sense of clarity and peace I can't get by any other means. At the moment I have a nagging pain. I have had it for about a week now. It's entirely bearable, but always constant. It's definitely in a decline, but I have to admit I'm struggling. It's entirely possible that the nagging is a cause of my nonchalance and somewhat surly attitude as I can't escape it. Then again, it's entirely possible that it's not.

I don't like being inactive. It slowly drives me crazy. I feel weak, pathetic and soft. Unfortunately it puts me in a stubborn and childish state of mine where I don't listen to anyone. I find it a little harder to communicate because I don't really read things properly and struggle to find the right words to express what I mean.

I kind of want a hug, but I don't want to talk about it.

More

The problem with being utterly smitten is that the object of your desire is forever dominating your thoughts. It just takes a spark to skew a train of thought and send it careening through a hazy daydream.

I have grown disinterested and lazy. I have tried repeatedly to pull myself out but have failed.I know she will push me, I know she wants to push me just so I can see how far I can go. She realises I may not be able to do it without her, yet she still wants to be with me. It is a strange feeling to be able let someone in. I have barely felt like I have, she just seems to understand.

I have no idea what I did to deserve this, and will probably never know. For the first time in what seems an age, I feel nervous and excited about what the future will hold. Its quite an invigorating sensation, this 'love'.

Preparation

I'm packing my bags. I travel light. It reminds me of how little I consider significant. Half of what I take I take out of convenience and entertainment rather than necessity. Distractions for the lull. Games I consider mindless, yet time consuming. Books I allow myself to believe they are a more constructive use of my time. I know I will not return the same as I am now. The idea concerns me a touch.

How much will I change? Will I really be any different at all? Will I fritter my time away worrying over the insignificant troubles that plague me here? I don't know. I won't know till I have returned. I know this unease will pass, I know it will be okay.

I will miss her greatly. She is what I hate to leave behind.
The time will pass, but my thoughts will not stray.
I will think of her.

I will miss her.

I miss her.

And I haven't even left.

Contrast

I was lowered down into the water. The diving suit felt heavy, the boots thudded into the bottom of the pool. I could make out the shapes of the two men waiting at the air pump. They spoke to each other as they waited for my signal. The pool was not the best test of the suit's capabilities, but we were checking the basics. The air pump hadn't been used in decades and the suit itself needed basic leak testing. I started wading to the deeper end of the pool. The water was now 2 feet above the top of the helmet. I breathed slowly, making the air last as long as I could.

3 minutes passed.

I decided it was enough and raised my hand. The men continued talking, now deep enough in conversation to have physically turned to face the each other. I waved harder, making small ripples on the surface. Nothing. My focus on my breathing broke. I was never comfortable with enclosed spaces. I took a few steps closer to the shallow end, my hand breaking the surface of the water. I splashed water at the men. They snapped out of their conversation and started unlocking the air seal. I felt the pull of the tube on the top of the helmet as air started siphoning through. I took a few steps back toward the deep end. As I walked, I looked back at the men. They were standing still, no longer chattering to each other. I stopped and stared back. I heard a faint gurgle from the air tube. The sound grew louder. Something was coming down the tube. I looked up to the vent. A drop of water splashed onto my face. I looked back at the blurry shapes of the men, they stood still. Even through the rippling water they seemed to be frozen in time.

Water started rushing into the helmet, I started to panic and move back to the shallow. The weighted boots seemed to be heavier than at the start of the test. I assured myself it was just fatigue, though I had hardly been exerting force. I tried to move quickly, but felt stuck after 3 steps. I turned to look at the men. They continued to watch. The pouring water echoed in the helmet, starting to disorient me. I felt something brush against my ear, though water had only filled to my jaw. I looked at the surface of water inside the helmet. Even through the brackish water I could see something was moving. I felt it brush against my neck. The water had reached my ear. I tilted my head back, trying to keep my nose out of the water. Small, sharp teeth pierced my neck. The tiny razorlike jaws to bite deeper and tear my flesh. I closed my eyes and screamed. I tried to move my arms and legs but the diving suit had grown too heavy. I felt more creatures hit my face as they dropped from the air tube. One started tearing at my cheek, another crawling into my ear, before starting to bore into the drum. The pain was excruciating. The water was now at my nostrils, even with my head pulled back. I felt the creature in my ear turn and bite deep into the canal wall. I opened my mouth to and yelled. Water clouded with blood rushed into my mouth. Creatures followed. My throat tore, my ears burned, my mind began tear apart.

My eyes opened wide and I gasped for air. I had woken from the nightmare shaking. My heart beating rapidly and my torso covered in a fine coat of sweat. My terror slowly dissipated and was replaced by confusion as I took in my unfamiliar surroundings. A yellow glow cut pierced the dark. The light peeking out from the underneath the bathroom door was dull, but bright enough to reveal the layout of the bedroom. I closed my eyes and breathed slower easier, trying to piecing the jigsaw together. I rolled onto my right and I saw her. She had her back to me. Her breathing was soft and rhythmic, I hadn't disturbed her. Her beautiful body moving in time with her slow breathing. She was beautiful. I moved closer and gently placed my hand on her waist. I brought my face against her exposed shoulder. I kissed her shoulder gently and touched my cheek to her, letting my hand drift to her stomach. She stirred slightly and sighed happily. My lips split into a smile. I kissed her shoulder again, and let my hand drift back over her perfect curves, savoring the feel of her skin under mine.

I turned away and lay on my back, looking up into nothing. I felt content.