I had stayed up late the day before and it showed, as my head attempted to escape in ten thousand directions at once.

There was a greasy feeling in the area when I arrived. A shiny cloud of red sparks gathered up in the air, flowing like waves in the sea, moving through the sky. There were pieces of a grayish substance lying atop the street and splattered across walls. They smelled dusty and dead.

I could see shapeless forms covering the ground, and so I walked around them, trying to find patterns long lost, like a soothsayer of old. I learned their ways and theirs paths until my senses got familiar and a picture formed in my mind.

And so I started.

I conjured splinters of bone and made them travel across the air, flying towards a common puncture in time and space. They reeked of desperation. I discovered sound waves splattered in silence, sizzling in the wind, carrying pain. Holding emotions.

Spilt brownish water surged through the floor, converging through the pink and the black and colors I've only seen in stars and in the dark of the night. The red dust awoke, turned now into a thick, slow-moving river running against the current. Against time.

Bones were being lined up and recreated now. Chunks of grayish meat and matter merged with the river, mixing and twirling until they were muscles and skin. I could hear a sound pledging, blending itself in the silent night.

It wasn’t a trumpet, more like a drum. Drumming beats. One, two, three. I could hear them all. One, two, three, one, two, three, until they were the only thing I could hear.

The water rushed into the growing mass, circling it and surrounding it. Tendons were being destroyed, torn from entropy and into real, tangible threads.

Teeth had formed by now and so had eyes. You can’t ever see a spectacle like that and sleep sound again in the night. Thousands and millions and trillions of neurons merged together and developed synapsis. Eye bulbs looked back at me, almost alive, already seeing. And they were filled with dread.

The skin lost its reddish color, a white hue covering most of it. Hair (I never notice where it comes from) burrowed down into every pore of his scalp—for now I was sure the body was male.

The sound was no longer a drum beat: it was more of a yell. It became obvious he was yelling.

And why wouldn’t him? I was traveling back to his death, from ten seconds in the future, towards this very moment. I was there to throw the finishing blow, end his life and disperse him through the universe.

Sometimes I hated my job and this particular night, my head ached like hell.