Circle. What goes around comes around.
I can feel him. This is not someone walking over my grave, this is someone jumping up and down upon it, taking a piss on it and then bouncing around the edge of the grave while mocking my corpse. The hairs on the back of my neck tingled and stood on end. More erect than a group of teenage boys at a strip club. I am being hunted.
There is something unnatural about him. Something, and I hesitate to use the phrase, supernatural. I threw a brick at him as he chased me here, but he just continued walking. It bounced from him as if he were a wall. Who.. what is following me? And why?
I feel it before I see it. A pain in my leg, shattering my kneecap. I can feel the pain exploding from my knee up and down my leg and detonating in my brain. He has got me; I am caught. I try to crawl away, but every movement feels like torture. The feeling of a nail being driven into my leg, through the kneecap and into the soft tender flesh behind. The choice of movement is soon taken from me as he slams the metal pipe down on my other leg. I want to say the pain was easier to take than the first hit, but that would be a lie. If the first hit was the eruption of the volcano of pain, this was the secondary one. Maybe not as spectacular as the first, but you sure as shit wouldn’t want to be near it.
He leers over me, enjoying what he has done. Rolling a dollop of phlegm in his mouth, he spits it out. It lands on my back. Nothing I can do about it. I am alone; I am unarmed, and I am incapacitated.
I thought it was over when the pipe struck my legs once again. I was wrong.
He slams his foot down on my wrist, I should have seen it coming but every neuron in my head is screaming. He pins my hand and starts singing about piggies going to market. I feel the bones in my fingers burst into a million pieces. The flesh splitting, the splintering bone pushing through and breaking free. He laughs as he does this. I scream, he laughs. What kind of sick, twisted bastard is this!
His interest in me is sinking. Is he getting bored or just playing? He smashes the pipe in to my sides, into my ribs. I instinctively raise my arms and he hits my crippled hand. The pain rockets, you think it has hit the peak, but then it finds another level. Not just raised to eleven, this dial goes doesn’t seem to end. The pain suddenly switches off, like a trip switch being tripped it goes from unbearable to nothing. Is this the end? I hear my ribs cracking as he swings the pipe. Do I hear it, or is it in my imagination? I don’t know. Crack, clap, crackle, snap and pop. I hear it all; I feel it all but the pain; the pain has stopped.
It is then that I see it. Standing in the corner and watching everything. Six foot dressed in a long black coat, you’d think it was human but the two black horns on its head with smoke rising from them lets you know it is something else. I am trapped in a nightmare. It can see me looking, it smiles back. Pulling a packet of cigarettes from its pocket and lighting one.
My attacker walks over to it. I can hear and feel my heart beating in my neck, it is slowing. I am dying here on the floor alone. I can hear them, it puts its hand on the man’s shoulder. “Revenge feels good, doesn’t it? That piece of shit killed you, and now you have had revenge. Do you want another go?” The man nods. The last thing I remember before the world goes dark is the memory of being executed. Sentenced to death for a string of killings. This is my hell, doomed to live it forever.