The finale. Sorry I haven’t posted much about the show recently, but I do actually have something planned that I’ll be working on… later this week, probably. There’s also another story I have somewhat preliminary plans for that I’ll be working on then as well.
Also. I discovered this song, “fix me up“, by an artist named unlove. Definitely check it out, it’s quite relevant to this story. Also, on that label’s Bandcamp page, you can buy their entire discography for $1.41. 41 albums for that. Less than four cents per album. Buy it.
“Well, what now?” the exorcist asked. “You want me to remove her, right?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure.”
“Why did you come here, then?”
“I don’t know. Catharsis?”
“There are cheaper ways to earn catharsis than one-hundred dollars per hour. I think you wanted to acheive something, even if you aren’t sure what it was. In my professional opinion, I think you wanted me to end this haunting.”
“I wanted to, I guess. But I… I can’t.”
“Why? A haunting is torture. Even if you think it’s some sort of self-flagellation of penitence, it can only go on for so long.”
“It’s more than that, though. I killed her once already. I can’t bring myself to kill her a second time.”
“But she’s already dead. It’s not killing her, it’s freeing her. The physical world is torture to a spirit.”
“It’s like she’s still with me, though. It’s like we’re still married.”
“Except it isn’t happy. It isn’t enjoyable. Why on earth would you want to continue this?”
“I.. I… I just can’t. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I just can’t. Every moment I think of following through with this, I remember that knife, that blood, that body, that impossible rage. This is my burden to bear. I’ll leave her with me for the rest of my life, for better or for worse.”
“I must ask you to reconsider, Joseph. I’ve seen this happen before. It never ends well.”
I stood up and wrote him a check. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this seems very stubborn for me to do, but you can’t imagine the bond she and I shared.”
“I think I can. But in any case, you know where I am. Please think about it, and come back to me once you’re ready. I’ll always be here.”
I thanked him, got into my car, and drove back home. She and I would be together until I died, for better or worse. Once at home, I took a few shots of whiskey and sat on the couch, thinking. I felt her approach, and I walked into the kitchen. I had, stupidly, bought the same set of kitchen knives as we had in our old house. I pulled out the same model of chef knife.
I saw her ghostly presence drift through the wall and hover towards me. Holding the knife in my right hand, I stretched out my left hand and brushed her cheek. “Goodbye, Beth.”
I stabbed the chef’s knife through my throat. In the few moments before I died, as the blood was draining from me onto the floor, her nonexistent form suddenly became real, just as it had been when she was alive. She knelt by my side and brushed my cheek with her left hand. “Goodbye, Joseph.”
The exorcist saw the news. He was saddened, of course, but he had seen it happen before. It was a sad eventuality for the people touched by his profession.
His wife came into the room. “Why, Victor? Why?” Her head cocked to one side, split apart on the other, and slid off onto the ground with a nonexistent thud. He winced at the sound that only he could hear, the headless body only he could see.