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The Dark Winter

Page 25

by David Mark

Then he feels the familiar weight on his back. The sensation of being pinned beneath another human being. The excitement of welcome helplessness that comes with giving yourself to another.

  In the periphery of his vision, the belt is scooped up in a gloved hand. He closes his eyes, eager to play.

  ‘Am I your fantasy?’ he asks again.

  The reply, when it finally comes, is hissed into his ear: a tumbled rush of excited words.

  ‘To die for.’

  There is a sudden, biting, flesh-ripping sensation, as though his Adam’s apple is being forced up into his skull.

  ‘Her name!’

  Spittle hisses from between his ghoulishly parted lips, frothing on his chin, into the dust and crumbs. His eyes bubbling, popping, like microwaved soup …

  In an instant, his faculties are at once dulled and frenzied, his thoughts twisted and squeezed.

  Too tight, too hard, too much; fantasy becoming fear.

  The words again …

  ‘Your friend. Pink blossoms. The laughing girl.’

  There is only confusion and hurt, a sensation of becoming somehow less; of reducing, melting, puddling into nothing …

  ‘The girl. Laughing at me …’

  Darkness closes in as his oily fingers and skinny legs drum on the dusty floor.

  An instant of clarity. A sudden heartbeat of understanding. What this is for. Why he is dying. Why the life is leaving his body and the poetry leaving his soul. What they want. What he must do …

  The voice again, wet in his ear.

  Anger. Venom.

  ‘The one who looked and laughed …’

  A knee now, hard in his spine; his back arching, teeth bringing blood to his thin lips, blood thundering in his ears …

  He wants to plead. Wants to beg for his life. Wants this to stop. Wants to live. To write and create. To fuck and dance.

  ‘Name. Her fucking name.’

  He knows now. Knows these will be his last words. Knows that all the warnings were for nothing. He’s going to die, and his final act in this life will be one of betrayal.

  The cord loosens for the slightest of moments. The strong hands readjust their grip.

  The boy takes a gulp of air. Tries to swallow it. Manages only to hiss, before the cord cuts back under his jawbone and an explosion of sweet-smelling blood flowers and flows from his eyes.

  ‘Suzie …’

  Her name at once an act of treachery and a dying invocation.

  Available April 2013

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Part Two

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Part Three

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Part Four

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Original Skin

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Part Two

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Part Three

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Part Four

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Original Skin

 

 

 


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