A Night of Revenge

A Night of Revenge

Red paint splashed all over the room,

Smell of salt and metal,

Funny how one could almost think blood has been spilled tonight in a calm household.

A guy on all fours,

Begging, crying-

“Not my Son, not him

He’s still eighteen”

And a grim lover at the counter,

Starring at the mess on the kitchen floor

Flesh, and more “Red paint”


The once pale body, laid on the floor

Gives not a single twitch

His Ken-doll lips – blue, now tainted with wet streaks of Red,

A young man hovers over the broken pieces of a marble statue,

Stands and walks back,

A snail leaving dark trails of revenge,

Sense of smug pride strewn across the white face,

Knowing “His” little experiment has exceeded all expectations.

(After an 18-year-old college boy gets entangled in a series of unfortunate events, his whole life turns upside-down as he tries to overcome the anxiety and failed mentality, succumbing to all sorts of drugs and alcohol. Having only one person to rely on, the person being the utmost cause of his shattered life, he turns himself into a serial killer, thirsting to take revenge from the men who took the life of his father, awarding them the worst possible last moments. He finishes off his chain of murders by taking the life of the gang leader, though he makes sure the old man feels the agony of his son’s skull being broken open by a bullet. Just to make sure, he is being watched by the ice-cold eyes of his “grim lover.”)

– Rtr. Chamodi Peduruarachchi

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