In a Darkened Room II

Posted: August 26, 2015 by Philip Jean Kilmer in Flash Fiction, In a Darkened Room
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

So I’ve decided to continue with the piece of flash fiction I posted the other day with small, page long updates to the story until I feel that it has concluded. I’ll probably post one every few days. Maybe once a week. Be sure to check out the original page of “In a Darkened Room” if you haven’t yet, along with the posts from the other authors on this page.

In a Darkened Room b

“No. You killed her!” The man and the demon across the red smeared glass shouted in unison. “You lie!” Their lips again moved as one.

In a frenzied sweat, the man picked up the hammer next to his knees and swung it overhead, but his grip faltered. He could not bring himself to smash the glass that sheltered the fiend. He could not bring himself to stare beyond the veil and face the monster in truth. Instead, he reached out his blood soaked hand and touched the glass ever so gently, caressing the killer’s face, once dotted with flaming red specks, now smudged with odious brown flakes.

“It’s okay…” Tears welled in the man’s eyes, but he saw them roll down the murderers cheeks. “This is our secret. Nobody has to know.”

“Nobody has to know.”

The man rose off of his knees. He turned from the mirror and began to drag his feet down the hallway through the darkness. As the dirt crunched under his shoes and turned to dust, the man could hear a heartbeat. It thud louder than the low hum of the cellar light still swinging from its cord, and louder than the moth that still bashed into it over and over again until the man snatched it from the air. When he opened his palm, his sticky, browned palm, the broken wings and torn legs of the crushed moth remained as if stuck in glue.

“It’s okay. This is our secret. Nobody has to know.” The man wiped the moth carcass onto his once white collar shirt as he staggered across the cellar. “It’s okay. This is our secret. Nobody has to know. It’s okay. This is our secret. Nobody has to know.”

He dropped to his knees next to the corpse of the woman he loved and clenched her white, blood stained dress in his hands. The hands that took her from him. And with those hands, the man lifted the woman onto his lap. Sharp shards of skull pressed into his palm while squishy chunks of white matter slipped through his fingers. The man stared at her pale face and pallid, dry cracked lips, touching them gently as he had in years past. From her lips, he glanced up to her foggy grey eyes. And all the while, he could hear the constant drum of his heartbeat in his ears.

A smile cracked across his face. “It’s okay. This is our secret. Nobody has to know…” He pet her face with light strokes of his fingertips.

“I’ll know.”


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