What I'd do for Love

Grey

As soon as Justin turned that corner, I breathed out heavily and started to worry. I mean, Justin was all over the place, worried, stammering about 'going to jail' and whatever. I didn't care. I was staring at whenever was knocked out on the floor. I knew he wasn't dead. Don't ask me how, because not even I know, but I could... sense it. He was breathing, but it was so, so light. Lighter than air. Lighter than water. Lighter than life.... I wondered who he was, if he was anyone. I mean, he could've recently lost his shit. It's plausible. Maybe he was a businessman? Nice but if money can turn anyone crazy. Or maybe a homeless man? I mean he could've lost the plot easy, too much starvation and loneliness. Somehow, I sensed whatever did this to him made sure he wasn't going back. Ever. Nothing could change him. I wonder what it was? Must've been something horrible, something powerful... something really evil.
"Ah yeah, forgot to mention, you should check behind the dumpster" The voice suddenly popped into my mind, pushing my thoughts aside.
"What?" I thought "what's a dumpster going to do?"
"Nothing" it replied "just check. I've got a bad feeling about something being there."
"I mean you haven't been wrong yet" I replied in my head heading towards the back. I left it as it was. There was no way it was waking up. If it did... it would taste whatever anger I had left inside me. I'm not gonna lie, besting something made me feel... better. Not completely happy but more relaxed, more calm. Ready to go back into the world. I mean, not many people should've noticed I'd left right? No one except.... her. Or I hope anyway.
I wish I didn't. I wish I removed her from my mind. It only got worse.

Coming towards the dumpster, the metallic pang hit my nostrils uninvitingly. It was a bad, strong, deadly smell. Almost made me want to throw up. It was as if something died back here, alone, in the dark, with that thing...
"I think the best place to check would be inside it." The voice seemed to get louder. "Sorry, your hands might get dirty, but it's better safe than sorry."
"Wait wait. How come I've never heard you before?" I asked it.
It was silent for a second.
"I'm your safety voice." It replied. "Whenever your about to die or become close to death, I will trigger and help you. Trust me. I mean I just saved you didn't I?"
"Yeah, that's true. Alright" I looked in, as if was already open as we were in here.
Nothing.
I mean, the bags of rubbish we're piled high, but no blood, brains, or bludgeoning. Everything was as clean as a restaurant bin can be.
"Nothing?" It said "well... check behind it I suppose. I mean, it could be anywhere"
"How do you know this?"
"Guessing as I go. Now come on!" The voice ushered me. Turning around so I can see the sides, I realised how wrong this seemed. I'd been in a few life-threatening situations before, but this.... Whatever it was had never shown up before. Curious... The smell was so strong that I felt like I could reach out and touch it. The unease resting in me was growing. What if this was a trap? What if I was about to get stabbed and left? Well, fuck it. I'll go down fighting before that. Finally summing up the courage, I looked behind the dumpster.
Ho. Ly. Shit
There was a body there. Not a normal one, but a gross, hanging, fleshy body. Parts of it were visible: just from memory, I can see a lung, some liver, and the bottom of his stomach, pale grey and moving in the moonlight. The flesh hung off, like a limp piece of string, but was stretched tightly in other places, patches in a flesh suit. One eye was gouged: the contents almost wriggling in the soft, warm wind. The other eye is completely diluted, no colour remained inside of it. It was as if I was staring into a sound stolen from the devil himself, and he was grinning back. Scratch marks that bared flesh on them wracked across his body. A hand lay covering something, three of the fingers were missing. The bones to the knuckle were still attached though, and looked as if they'd been snapped. Below the waist, it looked as if someone had decided to rip chunks of flesh from the legs. I could see veins, a odd dark purple colour, hanging from the openings, swinging as if they didn't have a single care in the world. Blood leaked out of them.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
I gagged. The smell, the metallic smell, the smell of death, was coming from that. The dark didn't help: the body was almost hidden until you rounded the corner. I'm surprised that Justin didn't say anything about it. Falling backwards onto the floor, I tried to get a grip on things. But all I could see was blood and whatever that was being stabbed by whatever was asleep on the floor over there. Over, and over, and over....
"Jesus Christ....." The voice murmured. "It's okay, we'll get you out of this easy"
"What do you mean? I didn't do any of this!" I retorted. "Your in my head, you know that!"
"I MEAN, what to do. Check what's in his hands" the voice told me.
If this was real,  I would've stared at it like it was crazy. Or wanted me to hit it. But of course it wasn't.
"I'm not touching that" I said instantly
"You need to. You need to see what's in its hands. It'll help you" it replied
"But....-"
"I haven't let you down, and I won't. Just do it please. I'd do it myself but I don't have a body"
"....fine" I gave in. Taking myself back into my own hands, I stepped closer. I could see every strand of flesh hanging from it. Every single pore that seemed to ooze perspiration as it died. Every thought that went throw its head as it was killed. Taking a deep breath in, I took one of his heads off of whatever it was holding. It fell without a problem. What it was holding was clearly visible. What it was holding glimmered, and sparkled, and was pretty.
If only all pretty things didn't want to kill you. Wouldn't everyone be happy then.