I don't need to watch the video anymore. Roll after roll of security film, edited and spliced for media-friendly consumption. "In other news . . . " the broadcastor's voice began again, barely audible over the faint hum of the transistor. By then my eyes were already bleeding from the grain, like witnessing nuclear fallout without proper precaution. I opened my mouth for air, gasping over a chorus of static and radio snow. More blood trickled into my throat, effectively choking off any attempt of escape. Like using an ax to remove an eyelid from the machine. Like having a seizure in a spacesuit.
I was there when it happened. I saw the scene unfold.
"This is between me and this blade, and my heart." That was the cold logic you gave to us, a sort of justification for future actions. Except . . . it wasn't. Not a single fucking word of it. Your words were a begger, a wolf in sheep's clothing, a temperamental ploy for sympathy - no one else saw the vengence in your eyes. "We see the parts, not the whole, and we're voting yes."
And then everything went straight to hell.
There was no murder weapon to speak of. No "Insert Knife Here," or "Let's Break Out The Shotguns" comraderie. It was unncessary: the situation was clean, and the intent was more than murderous. Bravo, you martyred pagan.
The holy ghost is torturous. Looking back into your panicked eyes, you had failed, and all of us knew it, yourself included. Hell, the whole thing might even have gone according to plan if your conscious hadn't pulled in. The conscious is a wolf. Deception wore its veil, but it was only a matter of time. Attempting to find beauty on a faultline only succeeds in breeding a swarm of chaos.
The centre does not hold. History proves this.
What were you hoping to achieve with his death, Kubrick? Falling out of an airplane and drowning is quite a way to die. A real work of art by any means. Murphy was an optimist to be sure, but Christ. There was a rumour going around that this guy could've been the real deal, the messiah to save us all . . .
Kubrick: "What makes a man start fires?"
Stephen: "Because a man cannot start ice ages."
Kubrick: "We will be the new ice age."
And to hold this secret from the press, from his fucking wife and family? Only to call a press conference weeks later, surrendering your innocence to the highest bidders. What did you expect? The media is an orchestra of wolves: The tongue is a flame, the microphone is the fuse.
Yes, I watched in stunned silence as it all came down.
But Jesus, I could only force my eyes open for so long. There was just so much fucking blood. This was an eviceration, a public execution televised for all to see. "Come one, come all, introduce knife to heart!" By the time it was all over, I didn't even recognize you. My best friend, the person I fell in love with . . . a beautiful angel, pulled apart in front of me. Limbless and helpless, begging for amnesty. And Lord help me, I couldn't even recognize your face.