the bleeding from my neck.
I start to pull myself to my ruddy feet.
“Come on if yer coming,” I growl.
Aaron yells out and takes a step towards me–
Hands reaching out for me–
My face rising to meet him–
And Viola
He stumbles–
Leaning towards the pews and catching himself–
And he stumbles again–
But he doesn’t fall.
He
He staggers but he stands, twixt me and Viola, uncurling himself, his back to Viola but towering over her, a whole rivulet of blood spouting from the side of his head now, but he’s effing well tall as a nightmare — He really is a monster.
“You ain’t human,” I say.
“I have told you, young Todd,” he says, his voice low and monstrous, his Noise glowering at me with a fury so pure it nearly knocks me back. “I am a saint.”
He lashes his arm out in Viola’s direkshun without even looking her way, catching her square on the eye, knocking her back as she calls out and falls falls falls, tripping over a pew, hitting her head hard on the rocks — And not rising.
“Viola!” I yell–
And I leap past him–
He lets me go–
I reach her–
Her legs are up on the stone bench–
Her head’s on the stone floor–
A little stream of blood running from it–
“Viola!” I say and I lift her–
And her head falls back–
“VIOLA!” I yell–
And I hear a low rumble from behind me–
Laughter.
He’s laughing.
“You were always going to betray her,” he says. “It was foreseen.”
“You SHUT UP!”
“And do you know
“I’ll KILL YOU!”
He lowers his voice to a whisper–
But a whisper I can feel shiver thru my entire body–
And my Noise blazes red.
Redder than it’s ever been.
“Yes, Todd,” Aaron hisses. “Yes, that’s the way.”
I lay Viola gently down and I stand and face him.
And my hate is so big, it fills the cavern.
“Come on, boy,” he says. “Purify yerself.”
I look at the knife–
Resting in a puddle of water–
Near the ledge by the pulpit behind Aaron–
Where I dropped it–
And I hear it calling to me–
Aaron holds open his arms.
“Murder me,” he says. “Become a man.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper under my breath tho I don’t know who to or what for–
I’m sorry–
And I leap–
Aaron doesn’t move, arms open as if to embrace me–
I barrel into him with my shoulder–
He doesn’t resist–
My Noise screams red–
We fall past the pulpit to the ledge–
I’m on top of him–
He still doesn’t resist–
I punch his face–
Over–
And over–
And over–
Breaking it further–
Breaking it into bloody messy pieces–
Hate pouring outta me thru my fists–
And still I pound him–
Still I hit–
Thru the breaking of bone–
And the snapping of gristle–
And an eye crushed under my knuckles–
Till I can no longer feel my hands–
And still I hit–
And his blood spills on me and over–
And the red of it matches the red of my Noise–
And then I lean back, still on him, covered in his blood–
And he’s laughing, he’s laughing
And he’s gurgling “Yes” thru broken teeth, “Yes—”
And the red rises in me–
And I can’t hold it back–
And the hate–
And I look over–
At the knife–
Just a metre away–
On the ledge–
By the pulpit–