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Necro's Diary Preview by Ezekiel Clark
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Rated "R" by the Author.
This is the first two pages of my novella "Necro's Diary"- in stores now.
11/13/2056
Dear Diary,
I fuck corpses. The truth is that I simply enjoy the company of the hopelessly cold bodies that won’t cause me any problems whatsoever. As many cliché sayings and jokes about necropheliacs that probably exist, all one of them, I don’t dare make any of those jokes although it is true .
Yes, it is true that dead girl’s don’t say no. And I’m sure if there are any other jokes about it, they are probably true too. Before I was ballsy enough to dig up my girlfriends I had a living girlfriend. Oh, what was that like? It was pretty much the most boring time period in my life. I couldn’t feel for the living what I feel for the dead.
I feel that I love the girls I defile. I don’t care what name a girl possesses. What I care about is their cold touch. The touch itself is pure ecstasy. When I was with the boring living folk I would try things to boost my sexual performance.
I had my ex, my living girlfriend, soak in a bathtub full of ice for an hour so I could feel her cold, unmoving body. I had told her to lie on the bed naked and not move a single muscle so I could feel like she wasn’t one of the living. She believed in doing kinky shit but she told me that it was by far the weirdest and that she had worried for me. It was slightly working for me at first then I felt the warmth from her vagina, I knew that what I desired could not be derived from a female with a pulse.
11/14/2056
Dear Diary,
I think about what love means and all I can think about is the cold dead flesh of a lover. Is it really so wrong that dead girls arouse me? My number one hope for after I’m dead is that if someone decides to find a lifeless fuck I am one of their choices, oh the courtesy. I would consider it an honor for my body, rotting or not, to be dug up for one last serenade (at least until the next person gets around to me.)
I don’t understand the so called ‘laws’ surrounding what I do. In 2031 the ‘crime’ was given a new punishment for people of my cloth. If you are caught, or there is evidence pointing to your ‘unholy’ actions you will be put to death. The reaction of most people is so strong that it would astonish even those that are hard to get any kind of reaction from at all. If you are found guilty of necrophilia you have no trial, no jail time, not even an easy death through injection. If you are found guilty you are killed via the drop. The drop is a gigantic sling shot mechanism that slings you straight into a pit of spikes. The spikes of course just skewer the tiny pieces of remaining meat, I wrote ‘remaining meat’ because there isn’t very much of you left to skewer of being shot that fast onto any surface, especially spikes.
It’s not like I do this because I’m looking forward to having no remains, I’m not trying to make a date reservation with the drop. As much as I have tried I just can not feel for living women. I honestly don’t care who finds me repulsive or any form of disgusting. They are the disgusting ones having sex with warm people, warm vaginas.
In the end they'll all be dancin'--all them ones that didn't die.... Dance with me in the shadows amidst the lightning and the thunder, and all that nu-cu-lar debris. See the big bang from the other side, and then open that cellar door. Go down into
11/13/2056
