Some men are sent to heaven by torturers who thought they were doing god's work by sending them to hell
A riverless silence made the air heavy.
His eyes were like two wafers of slate, grey and lifeless.
Her voice was small and distant, like she’d already left the room.
During our time together in this place Holly didn’t outright avoid me or treat me rudely. But she wasn’t—how do women like to put it? She wasn’t emotionally available to me.
I knew then I was going to die in the street without ever seeing Holly again. All because I tried to help an old woman, proving for all eternity that no good deed goes unpunished.
‘Eighth one this week,’ he said.
For an instant I saw before me the young girl this used to be.
I heard them tearing at it. It was the sound of mortality.
I don’t know how these things died without benefit of a bullet to the brain pan. They seemed to exist in an eternal twilight of longing.
‘Can’t you see what they are?’ I said. ‘They’re all dead.’
Even now I can’t describe the fear that contaminated my blood like black ink.
But I was still determined to protect her. It might be the one good thing I would ever do in my life. I wondered if God would even notice.
Drive. He’s already dead.
Did you ever think it won’t be the undead who kill us, but ordinary people?
I felt a lunatic’s laugh welling up inside me.
I was a spectator who had gotten free admission to a freak show.
I’m not a bad person.
It’s not about winning, it’s about doing what’s right. And yes, we will do what’s right.
When I lifted up the skin, a fat kidney worm dripping with gore raised its bald, blind head and glared at me.
