Rebirth

         "I'm tired" the man said.
         These words were spoken slowly fumbling out of his mouth. He imagined them falling to the floor, scattering around like ants. His foot steps were heavy as if something was hanging onto his back. Each step he seemed to slump farther and farther forward until, he had to stop. He would then have to muster enough strength to make himself upright again. He approached his mirror and stared at his reflection. His hair had turned grey, it was short, parts of his hair were sticking up, he tried to pat them down but, they would not submit. His eyes were green they seemed to be trying to say something constantly but, would lose their nerve and find refuge staring at the ground. His eyes were pale and had bags under them, he didn't sleep well. His face looked young yet the scars that covered it seemed to suck the juvenile qualities out of his visage. One of them on his right cheek resembled an unfinished upside down triangle. Another located on his forehead looked like a S on its side. The one that had healed the worst and because of this was the most noticeable was located on his chin. It started on the right side, angled over to the left and, went all the way down to the middle of his neck. He moved his fingers over each one feeling the rough skin, he smiled. It was a weak one that flashed only for a second, after which the frown that was his default setting seemed to sink even farther into his face. He began to examine his hands they were small feminine ones. Each had an angular cut on the palm, so that when he put his hands together they formed an X. His nails were short, his knuckles bruised. He looked down at his chest he wasn't wearing a shirt, he could see his ribs they looked so brittle as if a breeze would crack them. A bandage caked with dry blood was on the inner side of his left breast. His body was that of an old man's if not for his face you would guess he was in his 80's. He continued and stared down at his feet, a star had been carved into the top of his left one. While underneath the right you would discover his name crudely written into his skin, Samuel. Only, because of how poor the quality was it looked like the e and l had combined to form a d. He laughed upon remembering this, a dry laugh that sent him into a coughing fit. When he finally composed himself, he stared at the mirror looking into his eyes. He was breathing heavily, everything seemed like such a struggle now. With a swift movement he sent his head crashing into the mirror. The glass shattered his scars were revitalized into fresh cuts, blood started to pour out of them. He picked up a shard of glass and made a vertical cut on the tip of his nose, he clasped his now bleeding hands together.
         He started to whisper "I'm all better, I'm all better."
         His arms and legs started to contort, he screamed, he was on his knees and yet, his legs had rotated 180 degrees so that his feet were in front of him. The hinge joint in his elbows no longer worked properly, his arms snapped and, bent the opposite way they usually did. His hair fell out, the skin on his face became very loose, it looked as though it was melting off of his face without the horrific effect of actually falling off. His eyes rolled back into his head, his ribs started to grow and jut out of his torso. They pierced through the skin and the bone became visible. He went very still, his breathing even stopped. After a couple seconds, his eyes rolled back out of his head, they were an intense blue now. His body began to inflate his legs and arms snapped back into their proper places only, they were much larger more muscular. The skin on his face constricted and, clung tightly to his skull, the scars that once covered him were gone. Blonde hair began to rapidly sprout out of his head. His breathing was no longer heavy, he stood up. He imagined himself picking up the words that had fallen onto the floor and, swallowing them. He opened up the bag that was laying beside him, it contained his clothes, he put them on. He was now wearing a black suit and, a green tie. He walked out of the warehouse filled with an assortment of old dusty mirrors, some broken. It was a crisp night, there was a slight drizzle. The moon looked unnaturally large in the sky and, there were no stars. He started walking, a figured started to approach him from out of the shadows. The man was bald, his eyes were hazel they were constantly moving looking at him up and down. He was wearing jeans and, a coat, that had the name of a local hospital on its left breast. His arms were at his sides, one hand was clutching a brown paper bag in it. They stopped to meet each other.
         "What do I call you?" Samuel asked.
         The man seemed caught off guard by this question, his legs were constantly shifting. Sam could hear the man's heartbeat it was quickening he was going to run.
         "Listen friend it's just, I only like to do business with people that I know." Sam spoke these words slowly and softly.
         "You listen creep I want to get this over with as quick as possible so, screw the formalities where is it." The man spoke quickly he was trying to act tough but his voice started to crack at the end of his sentence.
         Sam reached into his pocket and, pulled out a gold ring.
         The engraving on the inside read. "To my Sasha, I will forever be yours."
         A ruby sat comfortably on it. The mans eyes widened when he say it, he could not tear them away from the ring.
         I wish we could have been friends. Sam thought to himself, while the man was distracted by the ring, Sam searched his suit jacket for the knife hidden within. He unleashed it with a quick flourish planning to quickly cut the mans throat unfortunately, his would be friend was quick. He had seen him reach into his jacket and, preparing for the strike he began to step back. He had also lowered his head to protect his neck, Sam's knife sliced the skin below the man lips. Sam tried to stab the man in the stomach but he dodged to the right, grabbed Sam's wrist and, attempted to turn the knife on its user. Sam brought his knee up, it connected it with the man's groin. He bellowed out in pain and yet, it only seemed to strengthen his resolve. The knife was now against Sam's neck but, where many men would begin to panic at a moment like this Sam only smiled.
         It seemed to say. "I know something you don't."
         The man paused stunned by Sam's lack of fear. Sam pushed the back of the man's head so, their foreheads were touching. He stopped fighting for the knife but, instead helped the man slit his own throat. Blood started to flow freely, Sam's smile widened.
         "What the hell?!" The man exclaimed.
         Sam placed his other hand on top of the man's skull. He pushed it down then, he forced the man to look up. The blood showering down from his neck began to fall into the man's open mouth. When it came in contact with the man's tongue it changed into a mud like material and, turned black. He started to choke on it tried desperately to pull away from Samuel's grip. Soon his gurgling choking sounds were replaced by silence, Sam finally released his now limp body. It fell softly onto the ground, the black blood that had once been in his mouth turned back to red and, flowed smoothly down his throat. Samuel fell to his knees searching frantically for the paper bag the man had brought. He was losing too much blood, spots started to appear in his vision. He was feeling around the ground now, almost blind. He felt the rough texture of the bag, heard the crinkling. He tore it open, felt the squishy, moist, object in his hand. It jumped to life and, began inflating and deflating in his hand. He bit into it tried to rip off a piece of this rough object. He barely managed but, the small piece fell out of the cut on his neck. He picked it up and, stuffed it into the opening of his throat, he felt the wet fleshy inside, chills ran through his body. He ripped the object into the smallest pieces he could and, shoved them down his esophagus. The blood loss finally became to much and, he succumbed to the darkness. When he woke up the sun was at it's zenith, he was on his back. He started to rub his eyes when, he felt a metal object on his right ring finger. It was a ring an emerald in the shape of a snake was set in it. He got up stretched, the man's body was gone the only remnants from the previous night was the paper bag small traces of blood could be found in it. He looked up at the sun and smiled.
         "Dam, I forgot how good it felt to be alive."