The Fifth Ring – (day 5)

by

Kil Conor

I met Cameron in Gehenna. We’d been set about to locate the clandestine graves, as forensic students do at times. The six of us gathered for a sermon undoubtedly to be delivered regarding proper digging techniques. Cameron, with fierce green eyes and tattooed skin; “LOVE” inked across his fingers like a prison inmate, stole my attention.
It was a gleaming Thursday afternoon when the first shout was heard at the head of the camp. Cameron and I stood side-by-side, somber as a memorial service as the first finger was unearthed. The doctor held it up for all to see, brushing away at the crumbled dirt that clung to the mummified ligaments, giving the entire structure a curve, and therefore a come-hither gesture. His voice traveled past my ears, droning on as I tried to study Cameron instead. (Read More)