The Pain of a Coward

Malcolm felt the tiny, stick-thin arm creep out from under his collar. One woman simply stood there and pointed silently as Malcolm pulled off the remaining slivers of material to expose the face and limbs. Do it, you coward! As Malcolm plunged the blade into his shoulder he felt it split. The sound he made could technically be called a scream, but the agonies he cried out through a gurgling, throat full of blood were beyond any noise he could have conceived himself making. It took ten minutes of the bloody form to emerge in its entirety, and another twenty for it to lie and then crawl its way over and up onto the old armchair. Through all this time

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