Killian dropped a hammer from the rooftop

Story

Killian dropped a hammer from the rooftop. He watched, eyes at half mast, mind slightly numbed from the paint he'd huffed a minute ago. The hammer fell in slow motion, and mid fall angled so that the sun glinted bright off the claw, sending little waves of rainbows out and out and out as it fell down and down. Five more floors to go. But as the rainbow waves dissipated Killian lost interest and grabbed the paper bag, filling it with more vapor and sucking it into his lungs. From far away he heard a scream, low pitched and gravelly. It sounded so funny Killian almost laughed.

The stairs were a hazard, especially because he was more interested in hanging on to his blessed paint can and bag than the handrail that snaked along before him. It didn't occur to him that the can could go in the bag, or that he could at least hold both items in one hand. That level of processing was not available right now. Or very often for that matter. He almost tripped a few times, but stopped, wobbled, let the vertical corridor settle, and then took another step down. Some steps were longer than others and there was no pattern to the variation. He was careful in his careless way, but running out of air and getting clumsier with each step. He stopped and looked back, which sent the whole stairwell spinning. When the spinning slowed enough he saw he'd only managed about ten steps so far. He remembered a porno he'd seen once with a girl on concrete stairs. What had she been doing. Peeing maybe. It was a weird one on the internet. He'd been searching for something that led to something else until he was deep into some very odd videos he hadn't even imagined existed. And the more he watched the more even stranger videos were being recommended, which he watched in turn and then was introduced to still stranger ones.

There are stars that float before your eyes if you press on them just so. Floaters. Killian was seeing them now swarming above the stairs. He sat down. He would need to catch his breath. There was a tightness in his chest and he was panting. The stars continued to swarm and spin even as the tall concrete column settled to a slow swaying. He felt the concrete step with his hand. There was something gritty on it, something he couldn't see in the grayness. Perhaps sand. Sometimes they mix sand with paint. Sometimes the cement is rough. Or perhaps it just felt that way and was actually smooth. It could be the molecules, maybe he was feeling the molecules themselves. If he could feel atoms maybe they would sting or shock him, millions of tiny shocks. Electrons. Electricity. Electric. Electrick. Who was that one guy, the one Edison hated. He could never remember his name. There was a video he'd seen of Edison shocking an elephant to death. At first he thought it was funny, but lately it had shown up in his dreams and it was becoming very unpleasant.

Killian pulled out his dick and started to play with it, but he couldn't get it hard and soon lost interest. He pulled out his phone and took a picture of his shriveled dick just hanging there being useless. Then he zipped up, stood, and tried to catch both breath and balance. He slipped a tentative foot down the next step. He now had one foot a step above the other and couldn't quite manage to get it down. It wouldn't go. He couldn't step up with the lower foot either. Nothing was cooperating. He sat again and considered huffing more paint, but realized he would never get down if he kept huffing. He looked over the rail down the endless spiraling center, all the way down to the first floor. It had to be done. He tossed the paint, then the bag. If he wanted more he would just have to climb down there. Somehow. Hopefully before dark. He'd been told there were people who liked to come to this building at night. He didn't want to see any people. Not the type who broke into buildings. Although he had. But that was different. He wasn't going to hurt anyone. But other people might like doing precisely that. You never knew until it was too late.

Killian closed his eyes and the swarms of stars formed elaborate geometric patterns. He opened them and started to slowly scoot down the stairs on his butt. After four drops he hit his coccyx hard and a sharp pain shot up his spine. He stood up and the pain increased. He sat down and it increased more. He howled and the sound echoed and echoed up the walls and down the stairs, bouncing around and banging back into him. If he could just get to the next landing he could lie down. But he was halfway there and it seemed so far. Another 8 steps or so. Maybe it wasn't that far. He should try. He stood up and sucked his breath in at the pain. Slowly he worked his way down, step by step, holding the rail tightly with both hands until he reached the 9th floor landing. He laid down on his stomach, feeling the cool concrete against the side of his face. This was not comfortable, but at least the pain was diminishing.