by Samantha Mirabal 12 months ago in fiction

Short Story


(A man in a dress shirt and dress pants. Dress shoes and a mask alone on stage covered in blood.)

And yet they will never know. I will leave this world as I came unto it; covered in blood naked and shameful. For I hath killed mine own brother, in cold blooded pain and agony. Bludgeoned him with a mere figurine and strangled him with my bare hands. Watching his breath leave his body as his face turned blue and he wriggled beneath me. He was no match for the fire in my soul and the evil in mine eye. My eyes were black as night fueled by passion, as his eyes grew dull and lifeless and his body grew cold and stiff. (He shifts)

I shall always remember that night. It’s like a burning image in my head that corses through my veins like hot lava and stings my ears like slashes. My brother my own flesh and blood bedded our sister. I watched him thrust himself upon her as she cried out in agony. My first instinct was to pounce from the depths of the shadows; but I knew I must wait to strike when the iron is hot. Hence tonight the annual masquerade ball.

What will they say? What will they do? Will they find out who is to blame for this atrocity? No one shall be the wiser that it was none other than the eldest son. Will they be shocked? My mother will fall to her knees and weep for her boy. My sister will hide her face behind a black veil. My father will drown his sorrows in wine, but I will spit upon his grave every chance I get. For I could not let him live another minute. I could not let him harm another innocent flower you see. From a young age my brother has been a beast. A disgusting monster hidden beneath the mask of a charming prince. Much like an animal coming after their prey. He’d seek them out from across the room and lure them in with this devilish grin. A grin so wide his fangs baring from either side. They’d swoon as he continued to bait them further with his titillating chatter. Oh and he knew he’d captured them when they’d traipse across the dance floor. Their fabrics intertwining a beautiful sight for a dastardly deed. I’d always tried to stop him; to warn his defenseless victims not to be fooled by his trickery. Yet to no avail. (Beginning to get angry)

He’d conquer them time and time again, tear after tear, plea after plea. Ripped and tattered clothing as a shell of a woman does the walk of shame when the moon is high in the sky. Never to be whole again. It’s as though he’d stripped them of all that they were. Sucking the light from their eyes. The animal must be fed always ravenous, always craving, it was never enough to fill his appetite! (crying) I could not bare to see such beautiful creatures ripped of their souls but he was my brother, and I loved him so. (Pause)

Love—What meaning does that word have in a world like this. I can not find the love for my sister. All I find is sorrow and grief for her pain and shame for my cowardice. I can not find the love for my brother. All I find is hate, all I see is red, all I hear is the constant voice in my head propelling me to action. And the love for myself, lost in the abyss to a crime of passion. The eldest brother, as the scriptures define. The protector, the provider, yet I am torn between light and dark. I have lost myself in the darkness never again to find light and salvation never again to be redeemed for what I have done. (He looks at his hands and falls to his knees)

With mine own hands I have done what can not be undone. I have played God whilst at the same time forsaken him. The sins of my flesh can never be washed away no matter how hot the water for I will always see red. Dripping beneath my fingers and falling to the floor collecting in a crimson pool. This is all that’s left of a man that once was. The villain must be unmasked for all the world to scorn and look upon his face with hatred and disgust. (He takes off his mask) For I Nikolai Mordovski have killed my brother Stanislav for a crime of defilement of the flesh, of many an innocent victim. (Standing while saying) I must go and maintain appearances. When the moon is high in the sky I will disguise myself with the dark of night to rid the world of his rotting tissue.

(A clock bell chimes. He looks towards the sound and runs offstage.)

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Read next: Run Necromancer
Samantha Mirabal

Performing Artist, Photographer, and Writer. 

Instagram: @samanthamirabal

See all posts by Samantha Mirabal