written for the last graffitidec_fic challenge http://community.livejournal.com/graffitidec_fic/57734.html#cutid1

I Am (Invincible)

I am the flask. Silver, shining, etched with an intricate pattern which forms a pair of angel wings. I hold his Absinthe, encase the green liquid that dances around inside my walls. I am kept close to him at all times, shielded from others in the confines of his pockets; his bag; his suitcase - he takes me everywhere. I am his saviour, his courage, his dirty little secret all rolled into one.

I am where it all starts.

+

I am the bottle, lying sideways on the floor. The final drops of vodka that have crept out onto the wooden floors beneath me are slowly fading into nothing more than a sticky patch which will be scrubbed from the world by the time the sun rises tomorrow. I see a mislaid shoe, a flailing arm; motionless yet waving in my direction. It’s crying out for help, not loudly like its owner was earlier on. It softly whispers, weeping sadly in defeat.

With him defeat is the best route to pursue.

+

I am the rope. Bloodstained and slightly frayed at the ends, tied tightly around flesh and bones. I bind wrist to wrist; ankle to ankle and weave between chapped and bloodied lips. I restrict the victim; move freely between his hands. I tie the knots he knows by heart and wrap around shaking limbs. I am the bridge between their fear and his desires. I am surprisingly not the cause of strangulation.

For that he uses his bare hands.

+

I am his knife. Eighteen inches, silver blade, oak finished handle. I found his eyes two years ago, when this all began. It was as if we’d been waiting for one another the day he stepped into the pawnbrokers. I lay in wait, coated in dust and shielded by glass fronted doors. His eyes flashed red when they connected with me; he knew it; I knew it. I was the one. I am the one. The one he uses to silence them. I love that part, dancing in front of their eyes, seeing them gulp and shut the fuck up. I’m the one he uses to pierce the delicate skin of their stomachs, trailing a line up to their chest or to slice through their wrists with one hard slash or to dive into their arms or throats; to twist and turn inside them and slip into warm blood in sync with muffled cries and struggles.

He loves seeing them struggle.

+

I am the acid he pops. The tiny square of paper; innocent in design but everyone knows better than to judge capabilities on something’s or indeed someone’s appearances. I may be small but I give him more than what he needs. I melt on his tongue when he’s finished torturing his victim; when the cries and blood curdling screams have faded into nothing. When the body has paled and is lying limp on the couch; the bed; the kitchen floor. I swim inside his body; seep into his nervous system and whisper sweet nothings into the back of his mind.

I illuminate everything until it is beautiful again.

+

I am Phoenix. I am twenty one, shaven haired and staring into the cracked bathroom mirror of room 426, Grande House, Grande Boulevard. I am the voice; the hands; the acid popping, Absinthe drinking killer. I wash my hands in the sink, green tablet of soap between my palms. I stare into the mirror, smiling back at the blue eyes and pale skin that shine back at me. I am flawless and I am beautiful. I dry my hands on the towel next to me and catch sight of the black body bag that resides in the doorway behind me.

I am the devil and the angel. I am the illicit lovechild of Archangel Michael and Lucifer. I am everything your father would have warned you against; everything your mother would have doted on. I am a walking contradiction, the devil in my smile and the angel wings tattooed elegantly onto my back.

I am notorious; most wanted by the FBI. I am, to them, a sickened and twisted killer who watches his victims for several weeks before striking them when they least expect it; following them to their houses and apartments; knocking them out with my fists; tying them down with ropes and ending their lives with the blade of a knife.

What do they know?

I am just doing my job, serving my purpose to this world; saving the fucking planet. I follow them for longer than a few weeks; often a few months. I watch them sleep and eat and jerk off in the shower. I watch them begrudgingly go to college or work day in day out then I watch them wallow in their self pity night after night and complain to their pitiful selves that this life is getting them down. I watch them sink further into depression, take an overdose or attempt to slit their wrists. And then? Then I step in and do the job properly for them.

What? It’s not like they want to be here.

I’m just ridding the world of these nobodies, the people who don’t want to live yet can’t even fucking kill themselves properly. Granted, not all of them try. No, they just take up our oxygen as they complain about how hard life is, how awful it is to be living in one of the richest countries in the world. They’re tiresome and pathetic; yet they are here for me to slay.

I am the good, the bad and the motherfucking beautiful all rolled into one. I am blessed with looks and intelligence and simply put my assets to their best uses. I am everything everyone fears in this world; courageous and intrepid. I am one of the few who thrives on walking this planet; one of the few who is grateful for everything I have. I don’t have to justify my actions but for arguments sake, I am simply making this world a happier place; putting those poor bastards out of their misery and saving them from wasting their money on therapy or pills which they’re led to believe will make a difference when put simply, they won’t. I am, metaphorically speaking, killing several birds with one stone.

And it feels pretty fucking great.

I am wiping away the bloodstains from a deceased man’s porcelain sink, washing down a tab of Acid with a mouthful of the Green Fairy from my ever present hip flask. I am gazing at my reflection; seeing my wings spread out in all their glory from my back and reaching up to pat my devil’s horns.

I am crazy. I am ingenious. I am grateful to be alive. I am every contradiction you can throw at me.

But best of all?

I am invincible.

FIN.