The Devil Made Me Do It...
The man looked over his shoulder. There was no-one there, he was sure. Or was he? Weren’t they perhaps after him, after all, it was said that they were out to roast his hide…
The Devil, he told himself, the Devil made me do it. That’s who. It was his fault, and his fault only. None other. The Devil Himself. The problem was, no one would follow his logic, and as such, no one would believe him. Yeah, they were gonna skin his hide when they got hold of him. There weren’t no mistaking that. Skin him alive for what he’d done, that’s what they’d do if they ever got hold of him.
The thought made him walk a little faster down the darkened road. But if they were out to get him he thought, they would do just that. They always got the rat, everyone knew that as well. So did he…
The End. Finished. Tickets…that was what he was. What was he going to do? Panic started to put its icy grip about his throat, and squeezed tighter. The End for him. The bitter end…He almost cried at that, but his primal instinct of fear drove him on his flight.
Where was he to go? He had no-where to run, no-one to turn to, nobody would ever dare to help, lest they get ‘It’ as well. In short; he was doomed. And that meant fatally doomed. His ticket would be punched; there was no mistaking that, and nobody on this earth would help him anyhow.
You might just come out and say it plain to yourself, he said to himself, you are Fucked! Totally and Royally Fucked…
Shit!!! And then complete panic seized control of him as he ran down the dark street crying insanely; “Oh God Help me!!! Have mercy on my soul!!! Save me!!! Save me!!!” as he went banging on the doorways of the homes next to the road. But not a soul would respond to his haunting death screams, and not a door would open.
Then he ran slap bang into a tall, darkly clad figure who coughed once and said; “Well hello Joe, I been-a looking for you…”
There was a bang (and a lot of blood), and the world grew dark about him one last time…
