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Saturday, June 23, 2012

Walkin Killings Pt. 6 One Eyed Man






The skin that covers the hands we use every single moment of the day hold memory in their cells, at the DNA level.


To a Walkin, these hand-skins may be useful as "gloves."


The use of these "gloves" may afford the wearer something more, which is this:


An entrance into a short period of time whereupon the wearer may be able to “learn” through touch.  Our hands are our connection to this mortal plane, but they are not the only ones. Our sensory organs do the same work, through sight, scent, taste, etc.


Our hands are the most valuable simply because they do work; they effect change upon our environment.


Consider: you press the sleep button on the remote for the telly.  You check your alarm clock on the nightstand or your phone, and you take a final swish of liquid from your cup of water/gin/beer/all the above.


You can also do other things with your hands, and each use becomes physical memory in your hands, in their skin, at the DNA level.



The Walkin we now know as “Seen” understood this, and that is why he wore the gloves of his fresh kill upon his hands.

How odd?


Indeed.



The Walkin had taken five toes from the dead man upstairs when it was still alive, because five was all he needed.

If you recall, he kicked the table in anger.  The demitasse, which is a French word for "You need to have at least five toes to make a full tea" fell to the floor and the poor bastard could only find four.


So, he removed another one from the dead man.



Never remove flesh from the dead.  It serves no one well.


It will be ugly.




Seen popped those toes into his gullet one at a time, like taking large pills, and swallowed each with a gulp from the green bottle of lager. 




These became the electrical ground, inside the body he now inhabited, in his belly.  Always get to know your victim on a personal level.


The skin gloves were the positive charge, and their memories would be released in their connection to a surface or object familiar to them.  Seen simply needed to feel his way around in the dark to discover the light switch.


He hoped that he would learn how to drive the horseless carriage.  But a new opportunity awaited him.



As he approached the shitty car owned by Sven Slindlivrenn, a voice as thin as the ring of a crystal goblet hissed, “Better watch where you’re going.”


The hairs on his neck stood up.   He smiled.  He loved the surge of adrenaline.


Seen stopped and pulled the heavy bag that slung from his shoulder away from the pistol in his front pocket.  He pulled the lovely metal thing out and it felt heavy, solid, and good in his hand.  He said, “Do you intend to hurt me?”


The voice said, “No, not if you be cool.  Now listen---"










The shadow came forth and Seen punched it in the face with the pistol.  It went through the man’s eye-socket and ruptured the eyeball on its way into the man’s brain.   Upon the retraction of his punch, the tiny metal gunsite at the tip of the pistol snagged the optic nerves and occlusive muscles and dragged the whole soggy eyeball bag out and ripped it from the man’s head. 


Seen looked down at the tip of the lovely metal thing.  He shook the eyeball and arteries from the tip, and marveled at this excellent weapon.


Now the purpose of this marvelous creation was quite apparent to him.   The hole at the tip of the long part was intended to allow for pressure escape.  The whole thing was a face-punch/eyeball extractor.


He had never seen such a thing before.  And it worked quite well.



Seen regarded the fellow before him, who was howling in pain and falling down to his knees with his hands up to his blood-spurting, hollow eye socket.   Seen reached down to offer comfort, for he hadn’t really given the man a chance to explain himself before removing his eyeball.


When he touched the man’s head, he felt a spark of memory.  In this moment, he’d forgotten that he was wearing the skin of a dead man upon his hands.


Now he learned quite a lot about the dead man, through the memory pattern within these gloves.

Experiences from the dead man flooded into his brain, and also into the head of the man who knelt before him.

The sensations were these:


An elderly woman was dragged from her bed by the ankles; her soft, fragile flesh: cold with old age and pulsing from the blood that coursed beneath. 


This image flashed, and the feelings from the power and strength of overwhelming such a frail person coursed up into Seen’s arms and at the same time into the man with the bleeding eye-hole, who suddenly stopped howling.  He was watching a new show on the telly.  They both were.


Yes, school was in session for this stranger, and in such learning, he became connected to the large young man who stood before him.  They both witnessed more cellular memories flashing out from the gloves of the dead man that connected them. 





A young lady walked to her car.  Those gloves electrified the skull of the one-eyed man and the hands of the Walkin. 


The young lady in the next memory bit the hand that covered her mouth, and both of these men winced in pain.   But their penises became engorged from some odd source of pleasure.

The dead man evidently got off on pain.


Seen was a Walkin, and the power of the Walkin is to absorb the experiences of others.  It changes them, for whatever their agenda.



It also changed the one-eyed man.  It began to cause a mental breakdown.  You see, the human brain is a vessel, and a delicate one at that.  It is made mostly of sugar water, and within it are the tiny wirings that connect us each to the person we are, our personality: our sense of Self.



The crack head's connections became fried from the overwhelming mental sensations and experiences that streamed out of the dead man’s gloves.  All of the deaths caused from slow torture was a bit much for a dirt bag looking for some easy money for his next rock.


Seen stood back and watched the kneeling man writhe on the ground, shaking and convulsing.  Grand Mal, good and bad. 


The connection to the memories in the skin gloves was broken.


Seen stumbled back from the convulsing figure.



The Walkin had not known that he had killed a serial killer.



He had come very close to becoming a new victim of torture at the hands of Sven Slindlivrenn.


Now,  he had three things to face.


One:   He now knew how to torture people.


Two:  He now had the desire to torture people.


Three:  He needed to harvest cellular knowledge from the man before him, before the poor fellow’s heart gave out.  Removing the flesh of the dead benefits no one.




He had some work to do, and there was only one place to do it.


He would have to take the one-eyed man back up to Sven’s place.


This was going to take a long time.



He began to drool with anticipation.  



This is going to get ugly.




God Help You.

God Help Us All.


---willies out.







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