Inertia. 619Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGZgx7e7afC
It’s silence engulfed Michael into a inner battle of turmoil, it’s angst weighing down the remnants of his heart. Michael’s stomach lurched in sickened worry. He took another sip of the Devil's drink, baring his teeth as the burning liquid seared down his throat, and attempted to tolerate its bitter aftertaste with a violent shake of his head. He grunted disappointedly at the empty tumbler that he observed with a loose grip in his hands, running his fingers over its embellishments. He sighed at the amber that stained his fingertips, damage dealt over a long period of time. Michael never realised that until now.
A past lover, who he so stupidly committed and sold his soul to, had left him quicker than the stamp upon a dead cigarette did. All that was left was scattered ash, waltzing through the air within the broken home. His intoxicated system subconsciously pleaded for its life. 619Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsOUYvikqvK
“No more, please.” Were the words that impishly pestered Michael as he fumbled for his lighter. He steadied to his feet and lumbered out the door, taking a few haphazard steps and stumbles as he went. His blurred gaze met a white photo frame perched on the table. The eyes of she and he, mistakes of romance, grinned widely with glimmering stars in their eyes, brighter than those of the skies. Hands were slipped around each other’s waists, bound together for eternity. Michael glared back at the picture, his eyes no longer as lustrous, rather, duller than the twilight that loomed overhead.
“Bane,” he mumbled, taking the frame in his hands. No one noticed it’s shatter in the stilled night against the floor. Michael strolled away with an innocent whistle, ignoring the broken glass. He’d seen plenty of that recently.619Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOdQDU5Diy7
He sauntered onto the porch, clicking his lighter. The warm amber glow reflected against his pale profile, thin with exhaustion, as he held it close to a cigarette. Michael let the grip of the leash on his mind run loose as he took a drag in, feeling the substance flow through his lungs like liquid. What tenacity and prowess she held. Once admirable qualities in Michael’s eyes, now weapons cocked toward his chest and head. So it seemed, he was ready for Death to seduce him and sweep him off his feet into sacred oblivion. He exhaled another thick puff of smoke, allowing his shoulders to dip low.
The night grew weary as Michael loitered around the lone deck, back and forth. His glasses fell askew on the tip of his nose, as he blinked frequently to fight the burning sensation in his eyes. Michael had more than enough of fighting, and very little optimism left. He suddenly stopped and scrunched his nose. An unfamiliar sensation caught in the wind caused the boy to shudder violently. Something told him, even after the previous occurrence of events, he was not alone. Suddenly, Michael’s heart leapt out of his chest as heard a shrill shriek stab the darkness. They grew louder, with choking sobs in between.
“Ho-ly shit, How drunk am I?” He slurred, beaming up at the moon.
Thick, industrial smog whirled in front of him, contorting into varied formations. Michael coughed and wavered a hand through, squeezing his eyes shut. When he blinked them open, a scene he would have never expected to see unfolded before him.
A woman emerged from the dark, grey and dull. Her figure had been graced with heavenly gold, her features glimmering in the dark. Was she an angel? Of course not. Michael eyed the familiar dress she wore. A dress he vividly remembers unbuttoning. The familiarity of her face was one he found too difficult to forget.
She suddenly lunges for his chest, screeching once more. Her eyes cried hysteric tears as thick and dark as tar. Michael’s insides filled with nausea and eyes widened in terror, as he watched the translucent figure slither with ease into his stomach. He wildly began to retch and stumble as if his alcohol intake suddenly increased, overruling his sobriety. 619Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlOGMcdskCd
He cried out and gasped as his chest suffered rippling agony, as if his heart were wrestling another's. He flew forward onto the wooden floor and helplessly writhed about, dropping his cigarette. He felt his heart being embraced by the strength of a hand more powerful than iron. He listened closely to two hearts beating in synchronicity, his teeth clamped shut to endure the pain. Michael's beat, however, slowed, and he felt tension ripping his organ in two. He punched his stomach repeatedly, attempting to rid himself of the unwelcome inhabitant. She cried out a funeral as she left as vapour through Michael's mouth and nose.
“No smokes.” He murmured, staggering to his feet and tripping down the steps. He ran into the street, the banshee woman hot on his numbed heels. He shovelled through his pockets for another cigarette, completely forgetting his previous pledge. He lit it with great urgency and inhaled breathlessly. He whipped around and blew smoke in her face, hoping it would waver her direction. To his dismay, it only made her more enraged, as she soared faster through the air, wildly snatching for his collar.
“Hell, you'd think that would work, huh?” He babbled on to himself. “Smoke wouldn't defeat the smoke lady, would it, dumbass?”
She shrieked behind in response. “Hm. ‘Spose runnin’ don't solve much as I thought.”
Before another word, the ghoul suddenly latched onto his shirt, sending him flying forward onto the pavement. Sharp talons for nails made profound incisions into his forearm. He yelped at the ripping of his skin and crawled back.
“Get a manicure, woman!” He hissed. She leapt forward and pinned her prey flat onto the road. Michael could feel the blood gushing out of his arm like the cascade of a waterfall. He winced at the ghoulish woman puckering her lips and barring a horrid grin, inky eyes wide with mania. At this point, he seemed helpless under her grip. However, Michael may not have been physically fit, but he certainly wasn't stupid. He fumbled for his pant pocket and retrieved his little, lilac lighter. He fixated his concentration upon a stray piece of flapping cloth and clicked.
Flames instantaneously licked the entirety of her dress and scorched her grey skin to charcoal. The woman stumbled backward and danced to the sound of her final roars. She crumpled to the ground and wept away, but tears would not put out the last of the fires that perished with her body. Michael stared at the pile of ash in disbelief, brows raised.
“Oh. Well, burn the witch, I guess!” He chirped delightedly.
He hobbled about, squinting at his change of surroundings. Being chased by a scary she-devil, Michael had unknowingly found himself by a bottle shop. Seemed like some things never change. Without a second thought, he stumbled towards the dimly-lit building, ripping the sleeve of his long, band jersey shirt as he went. The white hemming was now stained brilliant ruby. Pressing the cloth into his wound, he watched crimson flow through upon instant impact. 619Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaFXT4AFRW2
He pushed the door open and slipped inside, prompting the pleasant tinkle of a bell. He wavered a finger around at the glass bottles awaiting on symmetric shelves. His eyes shimmered like child’s in a toy store. After a thorough browse, he finally settled upon an elegant bottle of whisky. He strolled to the counter and gave the worker a goofy grin, battering his eyes. The worker smirked and scanned the drink. She then held out an expectant hand. “ID?”
He giggled and pulled out a plastic card. The cashier ignored his antics and handed over his prize. He whooped and barged through the door with a sudden jolt of adrenaline. He flopped onto the curb and unscrewed the lid. He gulped down as much of the contents as he could in a flash, and then gagged at the excited overdosage.
Somewhere beyond, Michael could faintly hear the dying whimpers of his past. Luckily, drowning his sorrows in alcohol seas is a technique he recently perfected quite well. Somewhere beyond, Michael knew he could make it out alive. Somewhere beyond, Michael anticipated alcohol poisoning. He drank till the morn's rays emerged for another day. He watched the horizon glow with pleasure through half-lidded slits and hiccuped. She was out of his life for now, but he'll never forget her, no matter how much liquor he indulged in.
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