Unmade: A Neo-Nihilist Vampire Tale

by Vocabulariast, The

  Somewhere in the distance he could hear guards trying to get into his cell, the jangling of keys the coughing and frantic screaming of the guards. He heard the door clang open and then they were on him, their hands applying enough pressure to his skin to split it open like a bratwurst that had been left on the grill too long, exposing pink insides as his blood and fleshed dripped onto the floor where it sizzled like an egg. They knocked him out of the sun and onto his cot where he lay immobilized and burst, oozing flesh and blood onto the cot.

  The clamor of the cell was amazing, cops and prisoners screaming expletives of disbelief at the top of their lungs. The tears that ran from his eyes felt like boiling water as they ran down his black and blistered face, a living, breathing freakshow that would never die. The clang of the cell door behind the guards rang with finality as his skin started to fade to normality and the weight of being denied sank into his bones through the open tears of skin.