The blood dripped, leaking over the edge of the steel gurney, splattering against the scummy white tile. It ran rivers through their gaps, slanting towards the drain, pulled by gravity's undeniable force. It struggled past the pieces of flesh that clogged its path, rolling beneath fingernails and the small flakes of skin. It picked up dirt before reforming, coming together in a large puddle that fell, fell, deep into the abyss of the houses underbelly.
A retching pong emanated from the drain, its fumes curling into the air, pulled by the wind and dragged through the freezing room, passing over the naked skin of the dead bodies, hanging like sheep carcasses off the roof. The drained shells stared blankly, their soulless faces sagged. Some were cut, knifes had dug into their soft flesh, hacking at their insides, grating against bone. Letters were carved into their backs, formulating words. Pig. Fuckwit. Worthless. Asshole.
Some of the bodies hung castrated, their manhood's torn from their bodies and flung carelessly into a rotting pile of innards. The masterful work of a blowtorch traced sizzling imprints down bodies, scorching hair and melting skin, several bodies hung with their nipples sizzled off.
The ghosts of tortured souls moaned, clawing at their mangled bodies, slipping into empty eye sockets, tongueless mouths, to curl up and haunt until they were thrown into a giant fire, to seek their final freedom amongst the ashes.
Muffled TV voices drifted down pipes, shouting out static updates of the weather, the ongoings of the city, no one out there the wiser of the small homes hell. The blood continued to drip off the gurney, running its rivers. The body it ran from was as lifeless as any other in the room, but its flesh was still warm, untouched, porcelain white. Her hair was soft blond, falling around her head like a crown, glistening under the gloomy light.
A soft smile hinted against her lips, suggesting a painless death, or one where she mocked her murderer. Her eyes, sliver, were sealed shut in passing. She was beautiful once, memorable even.
The smell of smoke chocked the air, rolling in from a great hearth separated from the room by a thin plaster wall. Soon the entire room was gray, the oxygen decapitating and the smoke overpowering all the stenches, the smell of burnt flesh thick and heavy.
Bodies were heaved into the crematory, slapping against on another as the rolled into the hungry hot flames of hell, their salvation. The pile of slippery innards were thrown in, joining their bodies. The intestines wrapping around necks, choking. Kidneys and stomachs burst, acid and bile sizzling on the steel flooring.
The acrid smell floated above the home, chaining through its wide chimney, rising into the clean country air. The smoke was swept away, a gust of wind dragging it along through the orchards, over hills and down road. It hitchhiked in the murky fumes of a truck, crawling away down freeways, blowing across peoples faces, sucked into peoples lungs and caught in pools of water. Some particles managed escape, floating back home and into the windows of old lovers, nestling close to their bleeding hearts, washed away in their tears of mourning.
