Lunatic's Lament Part 1 - Helen's Corpse

Lunatic's Lament

Helen's Corpse:

I woke up and sucked in a breath full of rancid air. Immediately I doubled over and vomited. What was that horrible scent? It smelt like decay, as if something has been rotting. I look around myself. I was in my new room in the new house Helen, my new wife, and I had bought together. It was just yesterday that we wedded. I was expecting a feeling of great joy, but instead I felt off.

 Something wasn’t right.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember things from last night. I remembered carrying Helen from the car to our new home. I remembered showing her the art that I had painted for her. I remembered stripping her from her gown and loving her...

 But then what?

What else had happened?

I shook my head, almost laughing at myself. Nothing was wrong. I was newly wedded, so nothing could spoil this moment.  A sip of cold water would help me collect myself.

 I raised myself from the bed and touch Helen next to me, only to find my hands covered in blood. Confusion hits me, and against my will I look over at the body next to me.

 Helen laid beside me, naked, with red, thick, blood all over her body. There was a big gash running across her throat and a giant hole in the middle of her stomach. Her intestines and organs spilled out of her, falling on the bed, oozing blood. Her beautiful eyes were gauged out of her head. Her once youthful colour had drained from her face, much like the very blood from her veins.

 It was such a foul image for one to behold, but in some twisted way to me it seemed to only enhance her beauty. One would cry at seeing their lover dead beside them, but I could only smile. My Helen, a canvas I’ve waited so long for has never looked more beautiful than now.

 I’m not entirely sure what drew my attention to the mirror that hung in front of the bed. I looked at my reflection, my lover’s blood all over my naked body and face. That one glance at the mirror revealed the truth behind the final hours of Helen’s life.

 I, the artist, had made the most beautiful piece of art known to man.

 A piece I call Helen’s corpse.