large/8432/short_ghost_horror_12_1102_64kb_mp3/ghohor012_07_eachmankills_glad_um_64kb_175
large/8432/short_ghost_horror_12_1102_64kb_mp3/ghohor012_07_eachmankills_glad_um_64kb
English
8432
I, Bill Morris, who hadn't cried since my fifth birthday—I was sobbing like a baby. I didn't call the police. I BILL MORRIS WHO HADN'T CRIED SINCE MY FIFTH BIRTHDAY I WAS SOBBING LIKE A BABY I DIDN'T CALL THE POLICE
ly, "She's beautiful," and "she" isn't beautiful at all; just a made-up, lifeless handful of clay. Dead as dead, and frightening. Well, it wasn't that way this time. Their fair skins were faintly pink-tinted and their blonde heads, hers ashen and his a reddish cast, gleamed brightly. And they sat so close in the sofa before the fire, his head resting in the hollow of her throat. They looked—peaceful; no line marred their faces. I almost fancied I saw them breathe. And on her third finger, left hand, was the ring—a thin, platinum band. He had won, and in winning somehow he had lost. How they had died and why they found each other and death at the same time, I would probably never know. I only knew one thing: I had to get away from there—quickly. I almost ran the distance to my flat. Stumbled into the place and poured a triple Scotch which I could scarcely hold. The Scotch seared my throat and tasted bitter; someone must have poured salt in it. Then I realized that it was tears—my tears. E SOME ONE VIEWS THE DECEASED AND SAYS KINDLY SHE'S BEAUTIFUL AND SHE ISN'T BEAUTIFUL AT ALL JUST A MADE UP LIFELESS HANDFUL OF PLAY DEAD AS DEAD AND FRIGHTENING WELL IT WASN'T THAT WAY THIS TIME THEIR FAIR SKINS WERE FAINTLY PINK TINTED AND THEIR BLOND HEADS HERS ASHEN AND HIS A REDDISH CASK GLEAMED BRIGHTLY AND THEY SAT SO CLOSE IN THE SOFA BEFORE THE FIRE HIS HEAD RESTING IN THE HOLLOW OF HER THROAT THEY LOOKED PEACEFUL NO LINE MARRED THEIR FACES I ALMOST FANCIED I SAW THEM BREATHE AND ON HER THIRD FINGER LEFT HAND WAS THE RING A THIN PLATINUM BAND HE HAD WON AND IN WINNING SOMEHOW HE'D LOST HOW THEY DIED AND WHY THEY FOUND EACH OTHER IN DEATH AT THE SAME TIME I WOULD PROBABLY NEVER KNOW I ONLY KNEW ONE THING I HAD TO GET AWAY FROM THERE QUICKLY I ALMOST RAN THE DISTANCE TO MY FLAT STUMBLED INTO THE PLACE AND POURED A TRIPLE SCOTCH WHICH I COULD SCARCELY HOLD THE SCOTCH SEARED MY THROAT AND TASTED BITTER SOME ONE MUST HAVE POURED SALT IN IT THEN I REALIZED THAT IT WAS TEARS MY TEARS
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file
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