ramsay@kcl-cs.UUCP (ZNAC440) (03/05/86)
References:
Xpath: ukc eagle
<Munchkin, munchkin>
-------------------------------- cut here ----------------------------------
.rm 75
.ce 2
Psychosis Carsoma
-----------------
.fi
Empty the Building, dark the Night. I turned, and as I turned, I fired,
but it was only a dream. The shadows made the Building look featureless,
bad as it really was. I met my contact under the WALKDONTWALK sign, but
the people weren't there, the cars neither, and it was only a dream. The
music was louder than I remembered it, all on one line, shattering
against my coat. Suddenly, it had been raining for several hours, and my
contact dripped into the air.
"You're late." he said.
"Of course I'm late. It's these damn nightmares I keep having. I'm
having one now, so talk fast."
He swung around and pointed towards the Building.
"There. They're waiting for you in there. The door'll become clearer
as you approach. Now vamoose - and you didn't see me, this meeting
didn't take place."
I moved towards the Building, its oak doors filling out as I reached
to knock. Soundless, they swung in
sweating. The bedclothes swept away and I looked around. It was night.
With shaking hands, I took one of the pills I'd kidded myself I wouldn't
need, swallowing it like a stone. I was back in the Building, trudging up
the stairs past the stuffed animal heads, each one reminding me where I'd
seen it killed. As I reached the top, the line ended. It ended with an
empty plaque, a name and number on it that should have been mine - for
all I knew, it might be. The ultimate insult - my head up here with a
stranger's name. They were like that, fond of their unappreciated little
jokes. There was only one door, at the end of the corridor, slightly ajar.
I knew what was beyond it, so I ignored it and went back down the stairs
to the front door, which I opened. The trap was complete - it was her
office.
"Take a seat," she cruelly said, and sat behind a desk.
"Well," I said, "I'm wanted dead; by you, and no-one else."
The file she opened was red with blood from her slashed wrists which
still dripped at intervals. She drew out the single piece of paper within,
scanning it efficiently. After a pause, she looked up at me.
"Why do you hate women so much?"
I stood to attention.
"My mother was a bitch. Ma'am."
"I see. A valid enough reason. Why did you kill me?"
"You took away my pride. Miss."
She nodded wisely.
"One final question. Why do you relive my death in nightmares like
these?"
"Guilt. It's my punishment, punishment for your perfect murder that I
committed. Your body's been buried in the churchyard if you want it."
Still she was calm.
"That'll be all, then. You can wake up now."
I woke up, catching myself in the unconscious act of reaching for
another pill.
------------------------------- cut here too -----------------------------------
I woke up this morning - and thought, what about some sf in sf-lovers?
So here is what *I* consider to be my best short story. No snidy comments,
though I'd welcome constructive thoughts. Also, if there's a net.fiction or
its equivalent, I apologize. (Stop grovelling, Ramsay, these people are your
friends...)
Edging slowly off to one side,
R. Ramsay
<And sneaking along last...>