Chapter 8

Several weeks have passed. Tom sits in his dimly lit dorm room. His eyes scan the digicenter for the time: 5:40 P.M. He feels slightly sick, his bones weak. His wrists feel numb. He wishes he could disconnect his hands from them. If it could free him. In his mind he screams. There is nothing to be desired. He has already looked upon the face of God. Or is it just that he cannot decide? Paralyzed, no movement of the body but no peace of mind. Only scratching and screaming. The darkness is coming down again. Like the flick of a switch, the heavy veil casts its shadow upon all his thoughts and perceptions. There is a small fire burning in the center of his chest. Here where old Light once sat a false light burns. The animal hatred reigns. Let it come upon you and have its way with you. Biting flesh. His head is on fire. Sweat and rage. He wants to kill his family. He wants to kill his roommate. Sit there. Sit with it. Watch the tiny snake, the size of pinpoint, squirming through the wood in the floor. Bite. Bite. You feel the wounds of Christ. You are my stinking flower. Pleasure – beast – pain – rebirth. You’ve destroyed your religion, you’ve destroyed your mind. He glances at the clock: 5:50 P.M. as the digits crack. A shattered diamond. Hear me backwards: Raul med sin. Climb. Wire. Belt. Symbol. Crack. Shatter. High. Get up on the bed. Worship me. Worship me.

“Tom?! Are you ok, man?!”

His roommate Chris interrupts.

“You look pretty sick, dude. Maybe we should call someone…”

“FUCK OFF! GET AWAY FUCKER!” Tom snarls.

“Alright, man, I was just going to ask you to come out to the bar...Jeeze...what’s up your ass?”

“YOUR FUCKING MOTHER’S CUNT!” he screams.

“Dude, you really need to relax. I’m leaving. Fuck off.”

Tom just sits there growling, occasionally barking, biting the flesh off his lower lip, causing it to bleed into his mouth.

“Piss, fuck, cunt,” he grumbles softly.