Hunger
Marie wandered through the supermarket, going from aisle to aisle, trying to find something that would sate her strange new hunger without making her throw up moments later. The young woman knew that her search was futile, as everything (ranging from the most bland and light foods to the most convoluted dietary meals) had ended up swimming inside the toilet. On one of those occasions though, Marie had noticed that the food looked largely intact, as if her stomach simply refused to digest it.
She must've caught something really bad somewhere. That party she recently went to was the most likely culprit, as Marie still couldn't remember what happened that night, or the night after. But what in the world could make her feel like this, along with giving her a partial amnesia? Nothing that the internet could help with, that's for sure. Marie knew she had to get checked out by a doctor, but at the moment her financial and legal status prevented that from happening.
Empty-handed and disappointed, Marie walked out of the store and into the dark, dimly lit streets, slowly dragging herself along. Not wanting to return home right away, she decided to take a stroll in the nearby park. Marie hoped that the fresh air would help her clear her head, maybe even give her new ideas regarding her problem, yet the longer she went, the more anxious her thoughts became. Streetlights began to flicker hectically, and the trees around Marie seemed to grow bigger, looming over her like ill omens. She took it as a sign to go back home and turned around. That was when Marie felt someone grab her, and her mind went blank.
Next thing she knew she was standing in front of a dead man, his face frozen in horror. Marie covered her mouth with the palm of her hand, but pulled it away the moment she felt something thick and sticky. She looked at her hand and almost screamed.
Blood. Her face was covered in it. She felt it in her mouth. In her stomach. But she didn't feel sick. And most importantly, she didn't feel hungry anymore.
Deal with the Devil
I stood outside of an abandoned factory. The hour was late, and so was the person I was expecting. I lit a cigarette, hiding it from the rain with the brim of my hat. Some folks would say I'm old-fashioned, even cliché, but I'm past the age of giving a rat's ass about that sorta thing. I do my job and I do it well, unlike lots of modern gumshoes. Apart from my partner, who was one of the two reasons I was standing in the pouring rain.
"What took you so long?" I asked as I took a drag.
"You have it?" The voice behind me replied.
I turned around and took out a folder from my coat's inner pocket. "Names, addresses, all the dirt. The usual."
"Does she know?" The figure reached for the folder.
I pulled my arm back. "She doesn't. And you will not hurt her."
"You know the price of that."
"I do. And you know I'll pay it."
The figure took the folder. "In due time, Hughes. Just remember – I am watching."
I took another drag of my cigarette as the figure disappeared into the night.
"As if you'll ever let me forget."
Beacon
I sit in a quiet, dimly lit room in front of a blank page opened on an old laptop. My eyelids are heavy, my thoughts are slow and hollow. I take a sip of tea in hopes of refreshment, but it is cold and tasteless. I smirk as I compare it to my writing.
So many things I want to write about. So many ideas. Yet every time I try to it all just slips out of my mind and into the infinite void that our brains are too weak and primitive to grasp. I begin to hate my mind, my body, and ultimately myself, spiraling down into remembering every single mistake and bad decision that I have ever made, once again reminding myself that I am a bad person, a scum, a villain, and that maybe it would be better for everyone around me if I wasn't even born in the first place.
No. It isn't true. Not entirely, at least. I take a deep breath and recite her words. I know them to be true, because she never lied to me. I wish I did the same. Her words are like a beacon in the dark stormy ocean, a reminder that there is light inside of me, and that it was this very light that had saved her years ago, and keeps doing so to this day.
Ruiner’s Lament
One day I'll wake up, and you'll be there again, in my arms, sleeping blissfully.
One day I'll wake up, and feel the greatest relief ever known to a living being.
One day I'll wake up, and every mistake, every hurt, every regret will become nothing but a bad dream.
One day I'll wake up, and everything will be right again.
Maybe one day I'll wake up.
Crash and Burn
Pushing my limits
For something so superficial
Collecting bad habits
On my self-destruction mission
I have lost all the plot
Since the moment we've ended
I've no clue what's the point,
Don't want to go on, but I'm too scared to end it
All I can do now
Is crash and burn
Push myself to an all-time low
And burn, burn, burn
Somebody else would fit you much better
You would be happy, living a dream
Every day your joy would grow greater
If only I had never been
There's no coming back now
All what's left is to crash and to burn
The end's getting nearer, life's taking its toll
In my final nights I will burn, burn, burn
I look at myself
In the shard of a mirror
Feel so sick of myself
Feel the end getting nearer
My love, you should hate me
I'm so sorry you don't
For all the times I made you happy
I've hurt you tenfold
My love, if only I could
Give you the rest of my time
You would have it all
It's better spent on you than I
Rook
"Ever seen a mess like this before?" Ross looked at her partner.
"More than enough." The seasoned detective kept his eyes at the bloody pulp that was once a man's head. A drop of blood fell down on the mashed remains. "But you never get used to it."
A headless body hanged upside down in the alley where the two were standing, tied to the lamppost by a thick rope. The writing on the nearby wall read 'You missed one, but I didn't.'
"Any ideas, rook?"
Young detective took a long, careful look at the grizzly scene.
"Well, while we don't yet know who the vic is, I suppose it's safe to say that it was personal. Nothing was taken, so robbery wasn't the goal. And robbers don't usually crush their victims heads."
"Thought so too. And while personal, it wasn't spontaneous. Our perp wanted to leave a message."
"And if the message was meant for us, then the vic might not be entirely innocent."
"Good point. What else?"
"Well, we've got our stabbing weapon here..." Ross nodded to the knife on the ground. "But nothing that could be used to crush a human head. So either our murderer took one weapon with them, but for some reason left the other..."
"Or there was no second weapon at all. Which would mean that our perp should be strong as hell."
"Or very angry."
"Hmm... plausible. Shame we don't have any witnesses." Hughes sighed and fixed his beige hat.
"...I think we have something better than that." Ross tapped her partner on the shoulder and pointed at the building opposite of the alley. Facing them and the alley was an old surveillance camera.
"Nice catch." Hughes gave an approving nod to his young partner. "Let's go talk to the neighbours."