Page 18 of Burn (Two Wheeled Psychos #2)

“No, oh God, no!”

The purple clad, fat whore screams as I touch the flame of my lighter to her synthetic dress.

“Yes, oh God, yes!”

I laugh back, tilting my visor covered face to the roof of the catacombs, my peals of humor echoing all around us as loud as her wails of fear.

“Put it out, put it out. I’m gonna get burned.”

She yells, her bare hands frantically slapping at the singing material.

“That’s the point.”

I say, grabbing my stomach from the pain of my insane, madman, laughter. I’m fucking losing it.

“What? Why?”

She screeches, wriggling and thrashing around, trying to peel off the too tight dress that makes her look like a stuffed sausage.

I can see the marks on her hands, the black tips of her fingers already burned from the crack pipe, and I watch with a glee that overtakes me as they turn darker with the soot from the fire.

It overtakes her dress, the fabric hissing and melting to her as the flames grow larger, turning bright orange and red as they engulf her. Her screams are so loud that dirt falls from the roof of the tunnel dusting me, pelting off my helmet with little pings and pats on the carbon fiber.

“Because of what you are. Whore. Filth of society. Trash.”

“I’m just trying to live.”

She screams, her body almost glowing, her arms flailing, her chubby legs kicking as she runs in comical circles, grabbing at the flames, trying to bat them away.

“Well, you won’t.”

I say, strolling over to her and kicking her square in the back, throwing her down onto her hands and knees.

“You’ll burn.”

So beautifully done. Her screams are perfect.

“Yeah.”

Don’t deny it, you love it. I can already hear the excitement in you. Give in to it. Love it. Love me, because I’m here to stay.

“You said you’d go if I burned her.”

I said I’d leave Phoenix alone. Not you.

“Fucker!”

I shout, smacking the side of my head, the anger rising up in me, heating me inside my gear.

Ripping my helmet off so I can breathe, the heat from the blaze warms my face even more. It’s suffocating me, burning my mouth and nose, heating my lungs. The whore burns hot, her body lit like a fucking candle, the flames taking over her and reaching upwards to the roof above. Her screams and hollers reverberate around us drowning out my own sounds of coughing and sputtering.

“This isn’t right. None of this. Go away.”

I wretch out, falling to my knees, grabbing my head, banging the side of it with the helmet still in my hand.

No.

“Yes.”

No.

“For fuck’s sake, go away!”

Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Never. I am you. You are me. We are one. Accept it.

“No!”

I wail, shaking my head, so confused, angry, and in pain, just like the trash that’s fallen flat to the ground before me, still kicking and rolling around on the ground as the fire takes her flesh.

I’ve never been right, not since that night the fire took my mother, my home, and everything I ever knew. But this is a new low. A new insanity that I never thought would happen. I don’t know what I’m doing, seeing, hearing. Nothing is right, it’s all wrong. It’s all…fucked.

I want to enjoy watching her burn, I want to go back to what I was before I met her, I want my old life back. The one where I enjoyed my “work”

and got pleasure from it. When he was there in the background and not in the forefront driving me mad, making me do things in ways I don’t want to, for reasons I don’t like. I want to be crazy but not this crazy.

“Fuck!”

I scream, leaning forward, feeling nauseated, wanting to puke.

Don’t you do it. No evidence.

“Fuck you.”

I growl, feeling my insides heave and turn on themselves. The heat inside me is as hot as the inferno burning on the ground, now silently hissing and sizzling as her fat cooks like a burger on a grill.

Fuck you too.

The bile rises in my throat, burning me on top of the heat from the fire, making me choke and gasp for much needed air. I swallow hard over and over again, trying to keep it down, but it’s futile. The liquid vomit comes from me like a tidal wave, rushing from my mouth and splattering all over the ground at my knees. I haven’t eaten anything really in days, and it shows when the foamy, yellow water rolls across the ground in little rivers.

“No. No evidence.”

I murmur, wiping my mouth with the back of my gloved hand.

I’m losing my mind more, my insanity rising to a level I can’t control, and I do what I never do. I touch the body as it burns.

Her skin peels from her lower leg as I grab her at the ankle and pull her towards my vomit pile. I need the fire, the heat, the flames to burn it away, and to destroy the DNA. It needs to burn away as she does, just like she’s trash, so it’s the evidence of my sickness from the war in my head. It’s crazy, I’m crazy, and I’m going to get caught, then all of this, everything I’ve ever done will have been for naught. But on top of that, if I’m in a jail cell, I can’t be with Phoenix, and she’ll have been abandoned by me for a third time.

Abandon her, leave her. You and me only. Like it’s always been.

I can feel myself giving in to his madness. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I should walk away from her for good. I mean I’ve made it this past week without her. It’ll get better the longer I’m away. I won’t miss her soon. I won’t want to be with her once I get my old self back. Right?

“No.”

Yes!

“No!”

You know I’m right. I’m always right. I’m the one that’s always here for you. Since the day you killed your mother. I’ve always been here. You and me Zephyr. We don’t need anyone else.

“I didn’t kill her. She killed herself. She burned our house down with her fucking drugs!”

I shout, slapping the ground with my hand, almost catching my glove on fire from the blaze in front of me that smells like a mediterranean grill as she cooks.

It was you who drove her to it. Your uselessness, your utter existence was enough to do it. You’re no good. You’re rotten. No one loves you, not even she did.

“That’s not true.”

I cry out, hitting the blazing corpse, feeling the heat through my leathers, letting the same fire that consumes her lick and taste me.

I love you.

“I hate you! Hate you! I fucking hate you!”

I wail, punching and beating the pile of goo that she’s become as the fire continues to eat her fat fucking meat sack.

Wetness from the melting fat and skin splashes up on my face, driving me madder. Her filth is on me now, because I took my helmet off from him making me overheated. I want to puke again from the sheer foulness of her diseased mess touching my bare skin. It’s disgusting, infecting me, making me no better than her.

You are no better. You’re worse.

“I’m what YOU made me.”

I growl, snapping my teeth in the pure rage that flows through me now.

No, you made me. You needed someone to blame. You know I’m not real. I’m you.

I need to get away from him and from her. I need to breathe air that isn’t smoke. I need to taste the freshness of oxygen that’s not tainted with the sickness of the whore burning on the ground from my flames. She’s only here because he made me bring her here. She died to appease him.

But I’m you. She died to appease you.

“I’ve lost it. That’s what this is. I’ve gone mad. I’ve finally snapped.”

I murmur to myself, climbing off the ground, getting my numb feet under me.

“That’s all this is. This isn’t real.”

I know it’s a disillusion of what I’ve wanted for myself, but after all what has been real or not for the past decade and a half? I don’t even know anymore.

“Ride. I need to ride.”

I pant, stumbling to the bike, slapping my helmet back on my head, not even bothering to wipe the rest of the splatter from my face.

I’m already tainted, infected, ruined by the filth. It’s nothing though, compared to the filth inside of me, in my head, and in my heart. I’m trash just like them all. I may not do drugs, I may not whore out my body, but I take and take without giving. I’m a leech on the world just like them. I’m not cleansing the earth like I made myself believe, I’m charring it with my own destruction.

“No good. I’m no good.”

I chant as I fire up the bike and hop on, twisting the throttle, making her scream out loud in the tunnel, her noise echoing so loudly it almost drowns him out of my head. Almost.

Ever realize that all your problems are called she and her?

“Shut up.”

I say loud enough to be heard over the sound of the engine.

Make me.

“Shut the fuck up!”

My screams at him match the noise from my bike as I take off through the catacombs. It’s deafening, all of it together as I race away from what I’ve done, feeling guilty and not at the same time. Wanting to stay and watch her burn yet needing to leave. I’m one big fucking conundrum as I flee from my sins and myself. Only I can’t escape the worst of it all, the one in my head that keeps me insane.