"Oh delight!" he thought as his ruby red tongue flicked around long dry teeth. In fact, it wouldn’t be fair to call it a thought, what was really happening was more of a bodily feeling of splendor that permeated him in the same way that long thin ribbons of dye expand and combine in swirling water. “Oh rapture!” another thread of pleasure radiated through his bleached bone body and became part of him. Long bone arms protruded from his velvet black robe and ended in skeletal hands which held, above his head, a wooden club. Empty sockets cast downward towards the object of his fixation, a small hole in the baseboard. There were no eyes in his long, horse like, skull but still he could see. His state of pleasure took him away from himself. He was no longer his body, but instead, he was the club and he was the hole in the wall. He was pure intention, and his intention was death.

He waited for a precise moment in time. A white mouse would emerge from the hole soon and he would kill it with an equally precise swing of his club. His precision had a purpose; it was nothing less than the alteration of reality. His black sockets could see more than mortal eyes. They could see not just in space, but in time and in probability as well. Always he was probing forward and back and sideways, catching shadows of what was and what could be. Constantly he was looking for circumstances that were to his liking. What he liked was pain and suffering. He had searched long and hard for a situation as perfect as this one. He had strained his sight to its very limits and he had caught a glimpse of his prize.

The mouse shared this dingy and dilapidated house with a lone man. The man had wallowed in sadness and self-pity for many years. In his self-centered world he had never acknowledged his diminutive housemate. However, today was the day that he would notice his fellow resident for the first time. He could see the man’s mind turn as he contemplated something new in his world. He could see a tiny spark of hope kindled by the knowledge of this small life form not just surviving but thriving in this awful place. Because of this, the man would begin to go out again. He would clean and repair his house. He would begin to talk to people again. He would spread kindness and the recipients of his kindness would spread kindness to others in return. This would spread further still until there was so much good will that he had to strain his vision to even have a guess where it might end. It sickened him, but soon it would not matter. Soon he would put a stop to all of that. It was delicious that so much suffering could be caused by so little force. The death of one mouse was equivalent to the pain of the countless millions and his club would cause it. He was suffering incarnate. The final moment transcended time. It was forever and it was no time at all.


Bone cracked and sinew tore. Guts spilled as the white mouse’s limbs twitched involuntarily. Crimson blood seeped into the grooves and holes in his club, adding another stain to the curvy grain of the wood. Another timeless moment and then he spoke, "Weep mankind for I have brought you such torment!" His voice barely disturbing the air was dry and surprisingly quiet like rustling leaves. There was a tension. He denied it at first as he waited for ecstasy to consume him. But, there was nothing. His mind began to race. Quickly he began to peer into the probable, into time. "NO! It can't be. I saw it, I saw suffering, my strike was perfect, my timing precise". But he couldn't deny it.

Something was wrong. A spark of hope still kindled within the man and without a muse of any kind he went out. He cleaned and repaired his house. He acted out in kindness. Somehow, he still found hope without the mouse. “No! It’s not possible!” he screamed as he began to take out his frustrations on himself. He could only see red as he rammed his head into his club. When his agitation was not relieved he dropped the club and screamed as he clawed at his eye sockets. He was still burning with rage when something new caught his eye. Yes, he could see it clearly, only a few houses down. His previous vision must have been in error, but not this time. He rushed out of the house and slipped through the darkness. This time his club would unravel the world.