The smell of death lingered…

The smell of death lingered on the man, permeating his hair and clothes, even his skin and underneath his fingernails. He could smell it when he smoked his imported cigarettes, and it ruined his appetite. No matter how many times he obsessively washed his hands, he could still smell all of the people he’d butchered and it kept him sullen and full of rage.      He hadn’t killed anybody for weeks, but still the smell of death lingered in his nostrils, the stench overpowering him at times, especially when he ate or tried to sleep. The death smell was diverse and impossibly complicated. Sometimes he would smell his latest victim, other times he would catch the scent of a family of four, he’d killed in Indiana and buried underneath a rabbit hutch.      No matter how much Ozium he used, or how many scented candles he bought, the smell of death still lingered, constantly reminding him, of the monster that he was.      Ten years later the death man could still smell his first victim. The coppery tang of blood and rotten decay filled his nostrils, convicting him and damning him to hell.      He tried not to think about it while he watched his next potential victim.      His throat thickened and his mouth went dry as he fantasized about brutally murdering, than patiently dismembering the unsuspecting father of two.      He was just on the verge of entering the man’s house, when a detective, who’d been tracking him for over five years, on his own time, shot him twice in the back and put him down.      Mortally wounded, the death man stared up at the detective with all of hells hate in his eyes.      ‘’How, did you find, me?’’ he managed to ask.      The detective smiled and tugged on the leash of his retired cadaver dog. The dog came up to the death man and started to whine and growl, then barked and snapped at him.          The detective smiled while he let his faithful companion have some fun. He even let his canine friend take a grisly chunk out of the death mans horrified face, before jerking on the leash and commanding him to heel. ‘’Finding you was easy… after I got the dog. The smell of death still lingers on you, and everything you touch.’’      The death man gasped and coughed. Dark reddish, black blood flew from his lips, and he knew that he was close to the other side of things.      As he slipped towards deaths mysterious portal, he began to experience the sheer terror and helplessness of all of his innocent victims.    He was screaming like the evil pig that he was, when the demons drug him down to hell, where the smell of death still lingers, on and on… for eternity.


One thought on “The smell of death lingered…

  1. Wow! This story gave me a whole new side of Buddy Tetro. I felt the darkness the man shoveled on himself as he plotted his next murder. The man’s need for life to end as he smelled death on his fingers showed me the grimy life that he led. It seemed as if he didn’t care if it was his death or the death of another. Someone had to die. The piece was dank and dark, reminding me of Poe. Great job!


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