lintelsoups (lintelsoups) wrote,
lintelsoups
lintelsoups

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Two Posts, One Day, Must Be Important

First
Second



I don't remember much after that. I must have fallen asleep. When I awoke I was on the floor in the bathroom. I was sitting up against the wall and my head jerked upwards. It hit pretty hard on the wall behind me. I could hear the thud it made. With that I opened my eyes all the way to look around.
Where was he?
I wiped the sleep out of my eyes and tears came pouring down because I was still tired from whatever it was that knocked me out.
"Alex?" I said, pushing myself up from the floor. Routinely, I brushed off my dress. That's when I realized I was wear a dress. I hadn't remembered going to sleep in one. It was short and black, with a long v-neck in the front and the back, no sleeves.
"Alex?" I called again, going to the door that was shut. Nothing. So I started to open the door to see him through the small crack getting wider.
He was standing there with a hammer.
I don't think I was out long, that time. Only a few seconds, because he was dragging me by my feet out of the bathroom. My forehead felt wet. I touched it with my hand and looked at my fingers, squinting at the light above me. They were red. I could feel it leaking down through my hair. I dropped my hand and tried to struggle. I was too tired for it. This almost felt like I was on some kind of sedative. I fell to my drowsiness.

I awoke later, with my head being slammed against a wall. I opened my eyes to see the bed in front of me. Everything looked different. I began to wonder how long I was really out. Or if I was out of it now? It was just a normal hotel room. The sheets didn't even look like they had been moved. His hand was around my neck. I looked down to see he still had the hammer in his other hand. I sniffled at the thought.
"Look." He pointed with the hammer to the corner where the tv should have been. There was a man I remembered. He had black hair in a slick come over fashion. But his face seemed to be missing. He was just propped up against the corner, with his entire face carved out. It was necessarily hollow, but the skull was still in tact. And he was wearing a suit. This is only the way it seemed as I couldn't bare to look for too long. For some reason I remembered the hair he had. I couldn't put my finger on why. I shut my eyes while still being held up.
"Are you tired?" I nodded. He let go and pushed me over to the bed.
Everything got hazy and I started breathing faster. I could see him coming over to me. He stood there in front of me, hovering over, forever. Then he dropped the hammer.
"How long have you known me?" He held out his hand waiting for me to take it, but I was too hesitant. He retracted after a moment. "Don't you know?" He put his hands in his pockets. He seemed confused.
I tried to sit up, but it seemed I was still being weighed down by something.
"I don't.. why are you asking?" I grabbed at the sheets, trying to bring myself up. I fumbled, and I could hear him laughing. I forced myself up and I felt like I was hearing an echo of his voice.
"Been two years since I met you. Michelle. Don't you remember?" He leaned over and looked me in the eyes. Then he cocked his head to the side, "You know what you've done." He was so close to my face I could feel him breathing on me. At any other time I would have been glad to be this close to him. For the life of me, I couldn't recall it, whatever it was.
He reached up and snatched a bundle of my hair, he proceeded to force me to look over at the body again. I squirmed at the idea that he was trying to insinuate that I did that.
I turned back quickly to him, "That wasn't me." He grabbed at the back of my head, pushing my closer.
"Really?" He lifted an eyebrow, not convinced. He let go of my hair finally, to stand back against the wall. He let out a sigh, "If I can't have you, then nobody can." With that he took a switchblade out of his back pocket.
As quickly as I could, I began my hardest to climb backwards off of the bed. I made it to the end, falling to the floor before scrambling to my feet. I was shaking and certainly aware to be high on some kind of drug.
He was waiting there, ready to strike. I took one step and fell to the floor again. So I began crawling, without really thinking about it. He reached down and picked me up by the arm. He jerked me closer to him.
The strangest thing happened; he walked me up to the corpse. The man without a face.
"Go on, look at him." I saw him put his head down, as if he were saddened. Shocked by his sudden dismay, with my mouth opened I stared at him for a second. So then I looked, because I felt I had to. A pit of guilt sank in my stomach, washing over me.

The knife I had was the same knife I used to carve off his face. A realization I was not expecting to come to. This was the same hotel room and everything.. Most of what I saw before was just a dream before my
death.

Alex dropped her to the ground.
"You can hurt me. Do whatever you like." She was unmoved completely.
He jolted down to straddle her. First he took off her left arm and then her right. It took him thirty minutes. He barreled down through the flesh like cutting pieces of bread. Back n' forth until he reached her bones, which he then broke.
Michelle was mostly dead from loss of blood. Her eyes were still open, looking at him as if to say "I can still see you." He reached down to shut her eyes, but they wouldn't.
He leaned down closer, to whisper in her ear, "You still in there?"
Alex left her body in the bathtub. The same one she dreamed about. She swam motionless in the water, looking through the glass at an empty doorway. But there he stood, smiling back at her, examining her like a human fish in a tank.

Tags: fictionals, my imagination is not worth your time, text only boo
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