Canto III: Black Rivers of the Fall(R)

[abstrect-christ]

"What kind'a sick fuck-"

"Subtlety boys, no different than any other

night in this infernal City."

 

Squeamish, their obscurity to mans potential was discouraging:

Throat cut as deep as the vertebrae --

her head was another half an inch

from decapitation;

chest plates ruptured bone,

its keratin chunks among the meat of

her breasts, green shirt flipped

and blood stained displaying quarter of a nipple --

the quarter not missing --

stripped skin, appendix, half torn stomach,

pieces of her livers, diaphragm cast down an abyss,

from thyroid to rectum her torso was an open casket

of deep opaque violence and awe;

only topped off by her intestines noose like

pattern strewn across her torn darkly spattered jeans.

 

"Get a tarp over this before the rain washes

all the evidence away."

 

I.

Like a stop motion movie

my chest collapsed into one leg,

other jutted back, shin parallel its intersecting joint,

then my chest tight, up right, arms spread, face a frozen scream;

legs bent as if freefalling into nothingness,

Nothingness speaks:

"Hey buddy, hey-"

"Hey!"

 

Light, like a dawn my eyelids first to view, pupils widening:

"Hey, thought ya' were gone there,"

I'm mumbling in a stupor to this new scene;

"here's some clothes, some'a the chefs were complaining about a naked guy out back

so I got some

cheap clothes for ya', were ya' mugged?

Need ta' talk to the police?"

Awareness less that lucid I take his offering and nod him off.

 

It must be an hour later my migraine hits,

who, what, where, when, how; like the dream my mind is a river of black --

I start to wonder if my dream was the criminal;

leave it for later.

Head But a Glimpse of the Horror

Tracy Atkins, 28, was walking home from work to her downtown apartment on York Street

when out of the darkness of an alley she saw what looked like a human head. Not sure

whether it was a bad joke she approached it, "I mean how many people run into severed

heads on the street, none," she admits when questioned why she thought it might be a

joke gone awry. But to her surprise when she neared the head of a young brunette female

not ten feet away was the rest of her.

Disheveled this victim of a brutal and horrific murders bowels and organs lay scattered across

the alleyway, "first time I'd seen someone dead in front of me, and in such a state... I don't

want to remember it; psychiatrists can't fix what I saw," told Tracy as she covers her face and

lights a cigarette going white.

But even with the Police on full lookout for the criminal, doubt is cast as news comes of a

similar attack just a couple nights earlier on the south side of the city. Police Commissioner

Urich has yet to make any announcement of who or what the perpetrator looks like. Names of

the victims have yet to be released as well in the midst of what looks to be a serial killer.

by Ed Guerro

 

II.

Pounding! A barrage of memory's breaks through;

Leopards escaping a caged prison, all five senses engaged:

A child’s laughing, innocence encapsulated in a tan husk

being lifted with symmetric smiles, hands at the

child’s side in relation to tan in appearance brunette, fit,

brown eyes reflecting the happiness of the child in her arms --

another rasping vocal cord sounding "mommy" inheriting the

catatonic feeling of love in this movie real of fraudulent images --

short black hair, an average build reassuring her as she's running

with a neon sphere reflecting a dogs innocent hopes, the dogs hopes

then running away in the grass awaiting its fated inspirator.

 

"Let go a' me ya' freak!"

She yells as two men push me off her,

the thin slits of my eyes widening,

end credits the unveiling of reality,

wandering through a bog till I dream once more;

marsh to the river of my first dawn in this new existence.

 

But no stop motion real, blurred edges focus in

on a familiar face, the cling and clang of dishes interrupted

by running water and "how was your daze" interaction between him and her;

he states his proposition of sleep, she agrees smiling in her

night gown, "jus' let me finish this an' make sure the kids are asleep."

 

Blurred edges disappear, static the stars appear as fast as the window

had shattered, as fast as the blood had drained from her neck,

Shadows of hands drop her, the remaining quartz splash the blades of grass,

I recede to the black river, then a sweat filled naked husk;

screaming, the horror of blood coagulated and hard letting

my pores absorb their thoughts

absolving them from 'cross my chest, down my stomach to my groin,

soaking my penis, causing it to retract.

Same cold coagulant crusting my face and forearms, hands

thick with unrelieved skin-

Who am I?!

 

"so what did you see?"

"Just... black,

wings, not even sure if it was human,"

he's lying.

 

III.

"The family's of the three victims have been notified and we are in deep remorse for their

loss," Police Commissioner Urich sais as he breaks the two week silence since the reported

first victim of the fall murders began. But is the silence broken enough for the denizens of the

city?

With heavy rains water-boarding its residents, outrage and panic at the Polices response is at

a tenuous high. "The killers confirmed modus operandi is that of brunette's with children, of

course we also feel remorse for the children left behind after each death. So we are doing

everything in our power to find this serial murderer and bring him or her to justice, be

assured citizens everything is being done to make your streets safer."

When questioned on the victims identities Chief Urich responded "we're releasing limited

information on victims in respect to the mourning family's, however we have one witness in

custody with no suspects identified but we ask for help from the public in catching and

preventing other family's from being tragically separated"-

 

 

"Readin' that bullshit again Kastle?"

"This shit's a media nightmare."

"Ya, no shit eh; the witness to victim number four is in room two."

 

Nothing -- again.

"It was- It was grotesque,

I was walkin' wit' my girlfriend when --

out of nowhere she had disappeared an'

nex' I heard a thud, disillusioned I ran

looking for her and- And-

There it was, skin rough like leather,

wings long and fidgeting, this Thing --

it was -- it was tearin' at er', part' er',

I could see er' face frozen in terrifying end.

Er' blood glistening off It's black skin --

it then lifted its arm and I could tell It

could easily take down even the largest a' man

an- Er' eart' --

 

it wa' still beating when-

When It squeezed an' punctured it wit' a nail an-

An-"

Couldn't even finish his sentence.

We were left in disbelief,

the silence through out the two rooms were like a delta

where two rivers, one black and one red met cancelling each other out.

 

by Jeremy Swyck

(04/29/10)

Edited May 17, 2011 by abstrect-christ

[tonyv]

Remarkably vivid, Jeremy. This horrific scene couldn't possibly be the handiwork of a human serial killer. Loved the way you incorporated the news articles. There's too much good to quote, but I especially liked "the thin slits of my eyes widening" and "wings long and fidgeting."

 

Tony