Written on 10 January 2019
It was likely the smell, this hovel sure smelt like dead animal.
There probably were at least half a dozen animal carcases within the structure, anyhow. Might be a dead person or two as well, someone who'd gone a bit too far and hadn't been checked on for a while.
That smell, that smell, that smell, it was skinned rabbit. That's all Carlin could think of. He was vaguely aware he was on his way down, and vaguely aware that someone was rummaging through his stuff, but mostly he was hungry, and there was the casserole dish, one like he used to own, heavy and red, and something delicious was cooking.
The issue was, as it were, that his body no longer worked. He just lay there, in the fetal position, unable to move anything but his head, staring at this glorious pot of stew. The lid started rattling, was it boiling? Carlin needed to reduce the heat. He needed to move. He was sat up. Miraculous. But the lid had just flown off, and glided gracefully out the window.
And there was the rabbit. On hind legs, wearing a Chelsea kit. Fucking Chelsea. The fellow was winking at Carlin. It couldn't have been clearer that the rabbit was desperate to be skinned. He wasn't going to allow Carlin to eat the stew, until his fur was proudly displayed on the crumbling walls of the hovel.
Carlin didn't want to. He shook his head, protested, but the old man was there now, in his scouts uniform.
“Come on you little poof. All the other boys are doing it.” That didn't make it okay. But the old man was behind Carlin now. “If you behave like a poof, I'll treat you like a poof.” the rabbit swayed gracefully, highlighting it’s ruff, it’s cotton tale, it’s despicable brown eyes.
Carlin reached out and grabbed the rabbit by the scruff. It's fur melted away. It was now gesturing at his leg. That twisted little critter wanted Carlin to eat him. Eat him while he watched. His own body being ingested right in front of him.
The old man was sat next to him now.
“EAT IT YOU FUCKING FAIRY.”
Carlin instead decided to use the skinned carcass to throttle the old man. Kill kill kill. But the old man just laughed and laughed and laughed until Carlin blacked out.
When he came too, he was in a police cell. He felt horrendous.
“Where am I!?” He shouted, panicked.
“You've been arrested, junkie.” someone said through a slat. “You strangled a dusty friend of yours.”
“He was a bad man.” Carlin said, closing his eyes. “He deserved it.”