The Dam Universe

The Man

The rain fell, four walls of just rain. An umbrella roof covering my frozen body. Shivering to keep the icicles from forming on arms and shoulders. The brief chills from the wind breaks the warm crevasse of my sweatshirt. The divots between the sidewalk were turned into rivers, deluging into the street with mini waterfalls. The concrete jungle was grey and gloomy. The smog from cars came into my lungs with every slight breathe I took. The smell of the greasy dirt melted hobo's piss pierced my nostrils with a stench so foul it made me want to vomit. With every person walking along the cracked and brittle sidewalk. The people gasped at the sight they behold. A man. This man wore a coat of white like the purest of snow tainted by a dogs shit. He had sweatpants on that were made in the early 90's. His shoes tattered and leathered beyond comprehension. Dark black rimmed the ridge of his nose. He bled from the veins of his arms.

A man stood afar watching as the people flocked to the dead man. A grin of gold and white could be seen. It gleamed from the lamps in the street. This man walked in shadow. He fed off the popularity of his work. His thirst for blood would never be quenched by such a foul, wretched man. He fled to the streets as the policeman's sirens punctured the grueling masses. They sped pass the ameba of people. Wondering if the man was savable. He was not. What was once the grey concrete jungle was slathered with colour of the deepest red. A puddle of blood pooled around the dead man as if it didn't want to leave it's tainted but still warm home.

I walked home that night, as the rain turned to snow. I couldn't get the image of the dead man out of my head. The picture pulsed in my brain like a stinging headache. I had to stop in order to keep myself from falling prey to a car or the man. I looked around. Across the road I felt a cold shivering stare glancing at me. The deathly stare of his cold calculating eyes. The man looked at me and grinned a shallow, unlawful smile. It felt his gaze pierce my soul. He destroyed my sense of security and slathered in my face for all the rest of the people to see. I was ripped to shreds by his ungodly smile.

I ran. As fast as humanly possible, i ran until my legs gave out beneath my frail, and unfit body. I got to my house. Fumbled the keys dropping them as if they were as hot as the fiery depths of hell. My mind was racing. Flashing the image of the man piercing my soul with his stare. As I went to grab the keys a cold, but sharp pain coursed through my spine. As I start to lose feeling in my legs the man rips the knife out of back like I was a sow in the slaughterhouse. He flipped me on my now sliced open back and drove his knife through both my wrist. As he ended he said to me, " I am the reaper, I came to claim your soul so my brethren could feast on the sins in which you committed. My thirst for blood is now-quenched."

As I lay broken and bleeding on my doorstep I see the man walk to a bench not far. He lights a cigarette and watches as people flock to see my now red, rusty corpse. The cold grasp of death grabs a hold of my hand as the sight floods to black and I say "Venit messor."