The Final Loop

Look with dread upon the scene.

Your earthly meanderings and bitterness did little to appease your hungry soul. It longed for warmth and human contact, but instead you fed it gold and silver.

Yes, this is the night it ended. You had just had dinner, remember?

A warm spot of soup, and a thick slice of bread. A fitting last meal for a man with no love in his heart. You even went out of your way to find something to complain about, in order to feel no remorse for not giving the poor serving girl a tip.

See? Here you are turning the corner onto your street. Too stingy to hire a houseboy or maid, so no one was around to light your porch lamp. The shadows are rather ominous, aren’t they?

There! That shadow! It is your murderer.

He watched you as you opened your purse at the inn, and saw that you carried shiny coins, the only thing you valued in the world. Witness the dawning fear in your eyes as he grabs you and pulls you deeper into shadow.

Does it hurt?

The knife that he uses is rusted and dull, and the gashes in your flesh are ragged. Time slows to a crawl as he plunges the rough ice-cold metal into your flesh, over and over again. Can you feel your lifeblood flow over your chest, and grow colder with each contraction of your miserly heart?

Little did you know that by living your life with no mercy for others, you sealed your own fate for eternity.

Hell isn’t fire and brimstone. It is repetition... and now we begin again...

Look with dread upon the scene.

(c) 2017 - dustygrein

** I sometimes wonder if the ghost isn't the true victim in the end...