Viktor Chase

01 : flesh

17th December, 2014             11:56pm

“The dead are alive. They just don't breathe.”

The day they had recovered his battered body, I remember it had rained in the middle of December which was totally uncalled for.

The rest was all that heaven shed it's tears to the fullest, flooding our garage and the narrow street that led to Viktor's house.

Even the heaven loved him.

Like Viktor loved himself.

Like Viktor had loved himself .

It was funny how much he contradicted himself. If he were alive he'd laugh right now.

I rather not dwell in on how much of a nice person Viktor was and how he didn't deserve to die- he had his fair share of mistakes- and let's just face it: all those who breathe are sinisters for they have at least once commited a sin commencing from the birth till the hour of death. So did Viktor, and so did I.

But I didn't die.

Viktor died.

We all might exist in a million parallel universes with infinite identities but, it is prophesied that at least once in a life time we ought to die. And in my universe, Viktor was dead.

We all ought to die.

And Viktor loved himself.

But he died.

Dedicated to Michelle [@crookedly] because she reminds me of summer and happiness and also superheros!