Icarus

FORTY-FOUR

He never knew what he dreamed or what was real. Not while it was happening, not after it was all over. It was all so distorted and twisting. Twisted. Sometimes delicious. And funny. Sooooo funny. He couldn't stop laughing, it was impossible to stop the laughter. Nothing ever felt so good. Until it felt bad. And then nothing was funny. He couldn't stop crying. It was excruciating. Terrifying. Unbearable.

Sometimes he was naked. Once he was on the bed like that and he couldn't move, he didn't know why but he couldn't, and Caroline, sweet Caroline, lovelier than ever, was on top of him, riding him, her eyes rolled back in ecstasy, saying over and over again, I love you, Jack… I love you, Jack… I love you…

Then suddenly it wasn't Caroline. She was gone and instead it was Samsonite. Laughing and moaning. And dripping something. What was it? Dripping all over. It was red. Wine. Blood. Red red red everywhere…

How did Grace get there? She was naked, too, spreading her legs, climbing over him. She was delectable. Petite. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anyone. She was saying something, yes, she was saying, The Destination. She drew it out, Desssstinaaaashunnnnnn, so it sounded like a train, chugging far away, around a bend and gone forever, He was inside her. She was on top of him and he could feel himself inside her. She was leaning forward, bending down low breasts grazing his bare chest, and she was very beautiful. So beeeaaaauuutifullll. Her lips were soft and moist and he kissed her. Her tongue was inside his mouth, exploring his teeth and the hollows of his cheeks. Her breath was sweet, like wisteria brushing up against his face. But then her tongue got too big to keep in his mouth. It was so long, like a snake. It was a snake. It hissed and licked him but it kept going, slithering out past the bed, along the floor. So thick and getting thicker. Growing. Expanding like a balloon being pumped up with air. It was filling up the room. And getting longer. Going out the window…

The window… out the window… he was going out the window…

No, not the window. The balcony. Kid's balcony. He was going over, he was falling. Plunging! Going faster and faster and faster and faster. He was going to hit!

He heard the screaming. Was he screaming? Yes, yes, it was him, because the red was everywhere now, covering him, flooding the room in a rushing wave, filling it up to the ceiling. Everywhere he looked, there was red and more red. More red everywhere.

And he was fucking them all now, one at a time. And yet all together. How could that be? But it was. Steady, hard, rhythmic fucking. The Rookie. So beautiful, so gentle. The Entertainer. Grinning at him, a knife in one hand, a long needle sticking out of her arm. The Mortician, her long nails scratching his back, ripping his flesh. Samsonite. Her sharp teeth biting his neck, then his shoulder, before she exploded in a burst of red and he began screaming again. And even Emma! Sexy, delicious Emma from long ago. But then Caroline was back… perfect Caroline. Calming him down. Loving him. Making him safe…

He wanted to say to her, I can't be safe. I've almost done it, I think I've found them all, but there's one missing. No one's safe until we find her! They were missing the Murderess. Where was the Murderess? Why couldn't he find the Murderess?

More red. Oh, God, it was impossible, how could there be more red? But there was. Caroline disappeared, submerged in a river of red. A red rolling river…

And Kid's voice. How could it be Kid's voice? Saying: Say when it hurts… Say when it hurts…

Even more red… Even more pain…

Naked.

Fucking.

All of them.

Alone. Together.

Red red red red.

Say when it hurts.

When… Jack screamed… When when when when when when when! Please, God, it hurts… Oh… my… God… It huuuuuurrrrrrtttttsssssss…