Inferno dell'uomo

By: Mikass

(Michael Tatlock)

"Ask and you will receive; seek, and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you" - Matthew 7:8 The wind swept the leaves off the ground. The window shutters banged against the house. The noises follow into the house, past the living room, up the stairs into the first bedroom. Lying on the bed was the woman. Her hair was black, her eyes shut, and her hands across her chest. Slowing moving up, and down. Her heart, beating. Allowing her to live on. Slowly the shadow passed around the bed and down beside her. His hand slides through her hair, down past her ears. He listened to her breath, and each brought him closer to the edge. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out the sliver object. Within his hand was a knife. He raised the knife in the air, allowed himself to gain his ground, and then with one sweeping move he lowered the knife down. Bang! The guy dropped to the ground, as did the knife. Into the room stepped the detective, walking slowly to the aid of the screaming woman. “Calm down Miss, he’s dead. Gone forever.” The detective looked down at the dead man, and wondered why such evil was in this world. The White Room… Ha, sounds like the beginning of a cheesy horror story, but it’s not. Nope, something like that could happen in the world, but truth be told would the killer be shot or would the woman die. If you asked me, then I could tell you, it relies on how well the killer is. I lay here in this room wondering what I did wrong. I traced my steps, looking back at each one hoping the police would not catch me, but I was wrong. I lay here on the cushioned floor, and look at the cushioned walls. Wondering how did they know that I was there. I cleaned up the blood of each saddened victim. Could it be that I was mistaken in one of my clues? Great, here come the people in white, ready to tie me down so I don’t get out of control. Here comes the needle into my skin. The syrup, as I like to call it, flows through my veins. My eyes close and I realize that I’m away from my white room, and now in a dark room. I sit in a chair, staring at the wall and through the window the crows stare back. Burning into my soul, the pain is unbearable. Why do they do this to me? I sit and I pray for the world to stop turning. It does not stop, it does not end, and the hall goes forever down the white robe. Check the floor, whispers the voice in my head. I turn, and turn, looking and just looking at the floor, at the crows, and at…me, it is I on the floor. What does this mean? Could it be that the darkness of the wilderness across the landscape, through the window, into my mind burns the image of my still beating heart, laying just laying on that cold wooden floor. Check the walls, whispers the voice again. I turn and turn, again staring past the window onto the wall. I notice snakes crawling towards the sky. I back and back until I grab the picture. A picture of her, the one who was in my dreams, the one who has me awaken in the pool of my own sweat. She calls to me from the picture. I can hear her whispers, there like snakes, there like crows, there like the wolves that live in the woods. I crawl and crawl towards the picture. I get to the frame. I keep going, and I fall towards the pool of tears. It seems to be that I have fell for the trick of her. She wants me here; she knows I can’t go back to my damp dark shadowed room. I’m trapped in this picture; I’m trapped with her, with my sweet whispers of tears upon my lips. The bodies that build in the corner are gone; the blood of the innocent, on my hands that doesn’t wash away is behind me. I sit and sit, and stare at this woman with black hair, and soft skin. I try to get up and reach for her, my fingertips slowly move through the air. She reaches her hand out and we touch for a split second. In that split second memories flood back to me, hundreds of memories. I lay on the ground outside a dark building. I stand up and stare past the swings, and past the toys of children around, and notice her. The child with black hair, dancing around the sand. She seems happy; she seems alive and full of spirit. Then while these memories of love flash before me, the memories of hatred also do. The girl dances and swings, and in the background comes forth the shadow of…me. I am young, very young. I walk towards the girl, and I pull out the sharp object. With one sweeping move the girl is gone from this world. Myself turns, laughs, and walks away. I was hurt, I was crying on the ground with my heart broken still beating. Awake! Awake! Says the voice within the room, my bedroom. Another memory, one which that I am older, a few years older. I look down to the floor and notice myself playing with toys. A voice yells again. “Time for supper!” My younger self rises from the floor and runs out the door. I follow close behind, wondering what memory is this, and what secret does it hold. My young self runs downstairs and around the corner. I slowly follow around the corner but nothing is there. Only a long hall full of doors, full of voices. The voices whisper out to me to follow them in. I can’t follow, I’m scared. “Help Me,” a child’s voice yells. Where does it come from? Was it this door? I must go in. I stand staring at the door, wondering just wondering what to do. I reach down to the doorknob and turn the handle. I quickly open the door hoping that whatever is behind it is scared away. I stare into a blacken space, a void full of pictures of my younger self, memories washed in sadness. I regret what I do but I step into the black. The noise of the door slams behind me. I jump at the sound, and wonder why did I come into here. One footstep is heard, and then another is heard. The sound comes closer and closer, and in the darkness step forth him. The man I’ve been seeking forever. He spoke to me with his deep voice. “Oh you wonder in amazement at why this happened to you. Flesh is a trap for desires. It covers the spirit. Your spirit was overcome with your understanding that flesh is a pleasure. You were right in some way, flesh is a pleasure, and that is why you will join us.” I looked at the man, and sadness filled my eyes. I was enraged at what he was presenting me. I had the no options left. I stared into his eyes and he knew exactly what I was thinking. Then without any warning a shadow presented itself before me. It was the girl, the girl with black hair. She looked at me, and I looked at her. Are eyes met for the first time and we shared the moment, and it seemed like forever. Suddenly the woman with black hair began to turn, turn into something strange. Her chest ripped open and her black hair fell to the floor. Her eyes filled with blood, and then turned black, the darkest black. I backed up, frightened at what I saw. I looked at the man and questioned the happenings, and he spoke to me again. He said: “You wanted us here. You urged to open the door, not wondering what was on the other side.” I dropped to my knees, and let the tears fall down my face. I raised my head and stared into his black eyes. I asked him a question, a question I already knew. I asked them what they where and he replied… “ Who we are is a mere spot on the spectrum. We are demons to some, angels to others.” I couldn’t take it anymore, I got to my feet and ran towards the darkness, and I kept running hearing the man’s laughter behind me. I ran to I couldn’t run anymore, and then I ran some more. I stopped when I realized there was no reason to run. I couldn’t escape this place; I finally realized where I was. The whole time I was wondering what this place was, but it was clear. I was in hell, the hell of my own past, and just as the two demons stepped from the shadows, I awoke. My body was lying still on the floor, the white floor. I was back in my room, the white room. It was all a dream, one strange dream to invoked by the syrup. “Ha! It was all a dream! I’m alive, and was never happy to hear myself say that. Oh and to think that”…a sound arose from the corridor outside the door. What was that? I asked myself. I turned my eyes and noticed the white men with their white robes come in. They pulled out the needle with the syrup and pushed it through my skin. I grew tired, much tired and my eyes closed, and then opened and there before me was a window…and around me was the room, the dark room with the picture of her. I stared blankly, screaming inside, and realized, my life is my hell. A hell that I must live forever.