The Night

Night of Lies Pt (5) Til Death Do Us Part

Lincoln stood outside along with Dace. They both gawked at the horrendous dead bodies that were now sitting there like stale fish that were out of water too long to be revived. Left in the breezy night air, that suffocating. Dace cleared her throat, not wanting to stand idle anymore, she needed to move, her anxiety over this situation soon because she would fizzle out of control if she didn't. She took a daring step forward, and the smell and sight seemed to get more repulsive as she neared it. 

She knew she couldn't do this with her eyes open, so she closed them slightly, kneeling to the gruff man, and began to prepare his body for a respectable burial. She started by cleaning around the wound of his neck, cleaning according to what her memory of the bodies damages were, so she didn't accidentally move around the cut and make it worse. Her hand then began to stray away from the gaping slice on the man's neck, and began to dress the other wounds carefully, spraying a thick rose perfume she usually used, but decided to share to make sure their stench can be masked for the funeral.

Whilst she struggled with covering up and cleaning bodies, Lincoln made his way to the old tool shed that was on the left side of his home. He stepped into the bug ridden shed, looking at the multiple spider reunions in the corners of the small 10 x 10 shack. While his eyes searched to find the shovel he need, his vision became blurred by a baby spider sliding down a web directly in front of his face. His face went from stern to frightened, though the spider was quite small, it had Lincoln's heart racing quickly as he held in a scream and smacked the very ugly and insignificant creature in his hands. 

Lincoln took a moment to regain his composure, trying to understand how he can see a dead body, but still have a fear a tiny spider. He shook his head at the perplexing thought, his eyes landing on a quite large shovel, that looked as though it would get the job done most efficiently. With this being done, he made his way out of the creepy crawly tool shed as quickly as his feet would take him, almost stumbling on the other objects that littered his floors. Making his way back into his backyard. He began marking of two 6 x 4 rectangles to use as graves. He lifted his shovel up and looked from side to side before starting the tedious job of digging a 6 ft deep hole.  He went down into the ground with a shove of his arm into the dirt, the 'shink' sound heard quite loudly in the night's silence, as he started to exert his energy to go as fast as he can to get the job done.

Dace finished dressing the roughian man while Lincoln was in the shed fighting his fear of spiders. She couldn't stop staring at this lifeless figure on the ground, she shook her head and began to move away since there was no longer any reason to delay going face to face with the man she had murder, for Lincoln's man was ready for burial. This is the first time in a while she has actually felt pity for the men that were killed by them. It seemed as though she built some sort of story in her head of what his life could have been like before. Which made it super difficult to get over the fact that they will never be able to get back to that life they could've had.. as they were dead men. Dace looked at the man that fell victim to her darts, and with a silent sigh.. a sob racked her body, not able to move over to her victim. 

Why? It was because, she hadn't looked into her victim's eyes for a very long time since she hasn't buried them in such a manner before. His eyes were still wide open, the pain and emptiness still in them, and it shook her emotional side to a depressive state. Which in effect caused another sob to slip from her lips. As soon as she looked at him fully in the eyes though, she saw yet another story. One that included a family, a dog, a mother and father. Dace was stuck frozen, looking into those honey like hazel eyes. The lifeless man had a short stature, and wore a turtleneck and cargo pants. The clothing he was dressed in was neat, and obviously much more expensive than his friend's more pugnacious attire, which was obviously clothes of a fighter. Dace's victim was definitely more dapper, and classy. As if he was a businessman before this crazy thought to become a marauder. He had a dart neatly placed in his neck, perfect hit to the side of his throat, but definitely less savage like than a dagger in the neck. What frightened her even more though was the fact that he could have lived from where the dart hit. They could have saved him. Instead of doing so though, they stayed inside scared to look at their own damage.