Friday 29 November 2013

Dark Fiction - Razor

Razor

By Casey Douglass

for #fridayflash


 
The neon tube overhead shuddered as a train rumbled past somewhere to the left, the small subway toilet quiet and unminding. The rough looking man stood alone, the only denizen of the grimy smelly pit. A wan and drawn face stared back at him from the smudged mirror, the dark rings under its eyes and poking cheekbones looking even more ghoulish under the artificial lighting.
He hadn’t wanted to do it here, but with his ticket lost and no money, why bother arguing his way out of the station above. What difference did “where” make in the long run anyway. Better to do it now and save some hassle.
He rolled up his right sleeve with a dirty hand, twisting the stiff jacket material so that it stayed behind his bent elbow. He pushed up his jumper sleeve next, then undoing his shirt cuff, he forced that up with the others.
His forearm throbbed and shook with his pulse; the veins and muscles pushing up against the paper-thin skin. He looked in the mirror one last time before reaching down for the razor blade that was propped up against the cold tap.
The icy metal chilled his thumb and index finger but in the smoothest motion he could manage, he brought it to rest an inch above his exposed right wrist.
His eyes locked onto the mirror almost against his will, and he noted that they looked calmer now, more relaxed. He smiled and his double smiled back.
‘I wont make the same mistakes next time,’ he said to the glass.
With one swift motion, he spun the razor blade around his wrist, it never fully dipping to actually touch the skin. Blue sparks fizzed and sputtered from the sharp edge, ghostly worm like tendrils momentarily appearing and fading as the razor severed them.
The lights above flickered and buzzed as another train rattled past, failing totally for a few dark seconds. When they recovered and blazed once more into the tiled space, the man was gone. The only sound heard over the still vibrating train line was the quiet gurgle of the urinals as they entered their scheduled flushing cycle.

--THE END--

Not some of my best writing by any means, but I have been stuck in such a poor state that I felt I just needed to get something out and start the ball rolling again.Thanks for reading.