Freeze Frame Life For A Dance In Hell – KILLtober Short Story

“Say it again?” He asks with a bemused smile upon his face.

“Say what again?”

“It, what you just said!”

“Which part?”

“Fuck it, why not say it all again, from the start.”

“What stupid fucking game are you playing Smoltdon? You heard everything I just said, as did everyone else. So if you’ve got some smart-arsed comment to make you might as well just get it off your chest now, so we can move on.”

“I’m deeply offended by your accusations Mister Edwards. I’ve been nothing but cooperative since you ALL entered my house uninvited, utilised MY resources to help fulfil YOUR ludicrous end of world prophecies with first asking, and now that I’ve asked a simple request you vilify me,” Smoltdon says, furrowing his brow as he does.

Edwards feels all eyes fall upon him and he swallows a mouthful of dry air in a desperate bid to clear his throat before casting his eyes back upon Smoltdon. “I-I-I,” he clears his throat once more, this time feverishly clutching at it as if some sort of invisible hand is tightening its fingers around it. He catches a terrified glance from Clare in the corner of his eye, and finally after what seems an eternity breathes freely once more. He dry reaches, then spits out a mouthful of dry phlegm. The room falls silent as he stands tall once more, “Sorry I-I never, I never meant for that to happen, and..” he looks back over to Smoltdon, “I never any disrespect to you  Daniel. And yes, I agree wholeheartedly that you indeed have been nothing but a excellent host. The help you have provided, and the network you have introduced us to has been a vital part in our war against those who wish to see the world become a hollow shell of what it is. So please, if there is anything you didn’t understand or need me to repeat I will gladly do so,” Edwards says as he gestures towards Smoltdon and smiles awkwardly.

“Are you okay?” Smoltdon asks with a bemused look upon his face once more.

“O-Of, of course I-I am,” Edwards answers as a thick film of sweat breaks out upon his brow. He feels his stomach turn, then like a roller-coaster that’s suddenly come off it’s tracks he empties the contents of his stomach onto the ground before him. The room falls silent while the black goo dances around on the floor before them like a fish out of water, his eyes dart around at the faces of those he holds dear. “DO IT!” He screams as he tightly holds his eyes shut, and the whole world freezes around him.

“Welcome home,” a voice hisses in his ear as an ice cold hand rests on his shoulder.

“D-D-Da……” Edwards feels the fire burn in the back of his skull, and then nothing.

Clare pulls the blade from the back of Edwards skull and turns to face Smoltdon.

“How did you know he was infected?”

His face drains of its colour, and his cheeks go bright red, “I-I-I, I’d love to take credit for this, I really would. But…”

“But what?” Clare asks.

“He was right about my motives, I didn’t have anything constructive to add to the conversation. All I wanted to do was to stir the pot!”

She looks over at the lifeless corps of her lover, and then over to Smoltdon. “What in the world could you’ve found in such a heartfelt speech to take the piss out of?”

“The word’s tentative Clare, and that infected clown said ten-to-six, how could I not?”

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