Vengeful, when there was no wrong. His wrath, upon me.
Love! I say. All just love, for you.
Going, he says.
Breathe.
No! This is our together time, Nicole gone. Long game over, I say. Our time, Adam, our time! This I have waited for!
Going, he says again.
Breathe.
Kiss goodbye, then, at least, my Adam? No. No love, from him.
So much blood. On floor, not in me. But job unfinished. Has not seen it the end. Why go now? Stay! Just moments longer, would be something.
Breathe.
But listen, he speaks. It will be finished. He will give me peace. Because gas. Gas turned on now, by him. Gas and candle and boom! Will burn. Ha ha! says he, then goes, out the backdoor, away.
Eyelids close. Dark.
Eyelids open. Dark with pretence of light.
Breathe?
His knife he’s left by my side, his wife on the altar.
Candle, there, still burns. Soon, when there’s enough gas, it will be very suddenly warm.
Could rise, could blow it out.
Could slide, on belly, through the door.
Could escape through trail of blood.
But no. Adam knows. He knows I am His loyal servant, that I will do this for Him.
One last thing my Adam wants of me. I must serve him his love. Why defy Him? Why not make final sacrifice? He knows all.
Yes, breathe.
Cannot be closer now.
Must quicken His desires.
Must breathe to die more soon.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. Gas inhale!
And will I not then know, in dying, what no other author knows? I will be the first chronicler of life’s greatest mystery. If I can write, in my mind, what no other man has known? Why tire Luke with love and lust when always it’s been true, life’s best secret is death? He who can write death can write all life, according to Luke. I will write on the paper of my brain. I will be authentic. And we will rise above, Luke and I, transcend genre, our work be read on high! It will be beautiful, beautiful, beautiful! Adam will find my mind after I am dead and He will know the artistic heights to which I’ve risen.
And also I will serve Him, my Adam God. Direct, obedient servant. Have my name, use me … Why tears, then, in my eyes?
Tears are the enemy of fire. Must not be weak, now, at this final moment. Must go beyond what He asks – must do more. Ignition, here above me. Can click with a crack and spark will boom! And He, Adam, will know, then, I have truly sacrificed myself for Him here. The truest disciple.
So now: the triumph of my method. The ultimate piece of research. The final effort. Behold as I with my last strength scribble the paper of my mind!