Pain

Pain can be the only thing to let you know you’re still alive. It can be the only salvation against an incessant onslaught of generic, pathetic woes and pitiful whims and cares. Pain is my dearest friend, because it's the only thing I still feel.
Pain is my only friend.

. . .

 

Her useless words fluttered around me like so many annoying flies, seeking attention. Urging me to destroy the source. She looked at me as if she wanted something, and my mind idly searched for her previous words. "What a lovely day. We should go to the park!"

"I'm afraid I don't have the time." My mouth twisted in a pale imitation of a smile. "So sorry."

"Do you not enjoy the park? I just adore them, all the little ducks and children running around a pond." She giggled, fluttering her eyelids at me. Internally I roll my eyes, imagining holding her under the water of the aforementioned pond. The first real smile of the conversation emerges.

I looked down at my watch and pretended a sigh. "I do apologize, but I must go. I have a meeting." I stood and set the necessary funds onto the table, paying for the coffee and more. I turned to get my coat only to find her standing there, laying a single pale hand on my arm.

"Oh, let me walk with you?" Stop simpering you pathetic idiot! I composed my features and smiled, in my mind slamming her head into the table.

"Anything you want, of course." I took her arm in mine and opened the door for her, feigning the perfect gentleman. Wanting to slide a knife into her side. The emptiness, the un-feeling, the anti-emotion, it was worse that day. It had grown and festered since that morning, bubbling to be released. Aching to feel something, anything. A void of nothingness, wanting to be filled. Filled with what? My eyes flicked to the pulse in her neck, and my pulse quickened. Filled with blood. We were passing my house. I could... "I need to stop and get something."

She nodded and looked up at me, one side of her mouth pulling up. "Just going to leave me out here?"

I shook my head, grinning at her. "Come in. I couldn't leave you out here." I lead her up to the door, holding it open for her. Locking it behind her. "Let me get you a drink."

"I thought you were just grabbing something?"

"It'll take a few minutes. Please, get comfortable." She nodded and sat down, crossing her elegant legs. I crossed to the kitchen, opening the cabinet for a glass. I turned the water on, and started filling the glass. Then I saw it. It taunted me at the edges of my vision. An ethereal wraith in my peripheral. Whispering sweet promises, ultimate redemption. Hardened steel and a razor edge. I glanced back and could see her doing something with her shirt, pulling it lower. I snorted and turned back to the knife, my un-feeling burning anew. My fingers twitched and suddenly I was holding the knife.

Holding it blade down, parallel to my body and slightly behind me, I walked towards her. I held the glass of water in my other hand. "Here, I don't have much, so." I handed the glass to her on her left side, and my right hand came up and pressed the knife against her throat. Her eyes widened as I slid the sharpened edge against her fragile skin, pressing hard. A tiny gasp of air, an infinitesimal moan of pain, then a enriching choking sound. Her blood welled up hard and fast, bubbling over and soaking her shirt. I quickly came around the couch and grabbed her chin, turning her head so it faced me. The look in her eyes...my un-feeling pulsed, drinking in the look of pain and hopelessness. I brought the bloodied knife up and held it in front of her dying eyes, watching light reflect off the steel and crimson liquid. Looking back, I noticed that her throes had become less frantic, her chokes less desperate. Her eyes started to close.

In a moment of inspiration, I brought the knife back down, pressing the edge against my forearm. A quick jerk, and I had opened up a long straight line in my arm. Blood immediately starting welling up, and I watched it trickle down my flesh and mix with the pools of her blood. Her... does she even have a name? My smile was gruesome, demonic. Not anymore. Never again. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my arm, staunching the blood flow. Not once did I glance at the inanimate corpse sprawled on my couch.

Half an hour later, I was showered and dressed in a fresh suit, and the wound in my arm had stopped bleeding. I started packing my briefcase, preparing to go to work. I glanced at the now clean knife on the counter and pursed my lips, considering. Finally, I slid it into my briefcase. The locks snicked shut and I swung around, sliding out the door and locking it behind me. I whistled joyfully as I ambled to work, smiling gallantly at a passing young women. She grinned back, glancing back as she walked past. The doors to the offices slid open and I called a greeting to the security guard sitting behind the reception desk. He held up his hand hesitantly, as if not sure how to react to a genuine "Good afternoon!" I made my way to my office.

Halfway there, I heard a voice calling my name. I looked back and saw Jerry Winhelm, his brown, floppy hair helplessly slicked back. "Hey, the meeting is about to start! Come on, I have to grab my laptop, then we can go together."

I nodded and smiled at him. "Sounds like a plan. Any idea what this meeting is about?"

"Probably about Rick harassing that poor secretary. You know, the one who quit?" Jerry chuckled. "You seem to be in a good mood. Is there a lady involved?" He elbowed me suggestively, grinning.

My laugh was genuine. "Yes, there's a lady involved. She made me feel alive."

Jerry nodded sagely. "That's good, you do seem half dead most of the time." He winked at me. "What's she like?"

My expression of joy started to fade. "It was a single moment of passion. She can't offer anything more to me."

"Whatever you say man," he snorted. "Hold on, just have to grab my laptop." He opened the door to his office and walked in. I was only a step behind him, pushing the door shut. He looked back. "Need something?"

"Yes, I have a favor to ask." I walked up to him, angling to the side so we were standing parallel to the desk.

"Anything, man." He turned away and started unplugging his laptop. My hand picked up the corded phone beside me, and my other arm swung the briefcase into Jerry's head. He was knocked to the side, disorientated and groaning. I dropped the briefcase and wrapped the phone cord around his neck several times, pulling back hard. He started choking, kicking his feet in a futile effort to stand up. His hands starting clawing at the cord, then my hands, then my arms, then his face, slowing down as the moments passed. Jerry stopped kicking. A moment later, Jerry ceased to exist. I dragged the nameless body behind the desk and tidied up the office, pulling the knife out of my briefcase. Looking down at the corpse, I held the knife against my unharmed arm and slid it slowly against my skin. A longer, shallower cut joined the first gaping wound, bleeding less but stinging more. I breathed in, breathing in the pain and elation.

"I'm afraid you weren't as good as Ms. No-Name, Mr. No-Name. Alas, I find I like the sight of blood. Something to remember for next time. Have a good day." I nodded my head and walked out of the office, shutting the door behind me.

The rest of the board were already sitting at their places. I took my seat next to a lady named Clarissa. I glanced at her and frowned. Pale, skinny, and old. She would be no fun. To my other side sat Rick. Bingo. My thoughts were interrupted by the head of the board walking in.

"Right, let's get started—" He paused. "Where's Jerry? I just saw him."

"Ah," I raised my right hand partially, "he said he had a family emergency and had to leave. Something about his brother."

"Hm, I didn't know Jerry had a brother." He shrugged, "Moving on! I'm here to discuss how an employee should treat another employee—"

Clarissa gasped. "What happened to your arm? It's bleeding!"

I peered at the hand that I had raised, and saw that blood had soaked through my shirt. "Mm, I cut myself on the way to work. It's not a big deal, I wouldn't miss work for a little cut."

Rick, looking a little pale, piped up. "Uh, sir, maybe I should walk him out, grab the first aid kit."

The director glowered. "Very well. But don't you go far, Rick."

Rick stood up and gripped my shoulder. "Come on, buddy."

I sighed dramatically and nodded. "Very well." Rick walked out into the hallway. Behind him, I pulled the knife out of my briefcase and started whistling.

"Whatcha whistling?" He turned the corner.

"I don't think you'll care much." I came up behind him.

"Why's that? I—" I slammed the knife upwards, impaling him on the long blade in his lower back. I angled the blade upward, stabbing into his kidney. The scream was caught in his throat, dragged back down by the pain.  His legs no longer held his weight, and he collapsed to the ground. I slide the knife out and stabbed again, higher and more central, and severed his spine. Immediately he stopped struggling, and moments later his breath passed out of him. I pushed my sleeve up and drew another line next to the original wound, then pat Rick down. In a holster on his hip I found a loaded 9MM handgun, which I slid into my belt.

"Well, Mr. No-Name the II, congratulations. You were the best one yet." I grinned down at him, clenching my fist. Suddenly, I heard a scream directly behind me. I twisted and shot up, tackling a small figure to the ground. Looking down, I saw it was Clarissa, and I clasped my hand against her mouth. "Saw a little too much, didn't you?" She struggled in my grasp, trying to scream. Without hesitation I stabbed Clarissa in the side, directly under her armpit. The sharp steel slid into her heart and killed her almost instantly. My breathing was even, calm.

No wasting time with cutting. I drew the handgun from my belt and stood, pivoting until I came face to face with the rest of the board. A man near the back paled and fumbled with something on his belt. I turned towards him and fired a single round, taking him through the side of his head. He collapsed to the ground, surrounded by screams and whimpering. "Everyone, back into the conference room. Now." A woman tried to run past me and I smoothly intercepted her, slamming my knife into her gut. Over and over and slid the knife out and pushed it back in, until my left arm was covered in gore. "Right, now you know the consequences of trying to run. Move along, now."

DISCLAIMER: I really felt I could've written this story better. I'm not a fan of it. The subject is interesting, but the execution is far from acceptable for me. I'm not going to bother finishing this, but I might revisit it at a later date.
Have a lovely night,
Zachary