A shriek danced through his body like belly dancers dressed in vibrant reds. Dispassionately, he realized that it was just his own screaming as more blurred shapes mumbled and drifted around his line of vision. Everything was painted a bright ruby and sparkled just the same. Sharp pounding in his ribcage informed him that they were very broken, and the smell of burnt flesh, blood, and decaying souls assaulted his nose.

"Why do you not fight back, mortal?" The question asked more than its fair share.

Then another blow; the man heard a curiously loud cracking. Grating gristle and bone brought tantalizing whispers of lost childhood tears and a mother’s soothing kiss. It was even more curious that he couldn't figure out which part of his body had been broken this time. Boyhood injuries paled considerably when compared to his current state. Most curious of all was the sound that erupted from his belly. This, he could feel flooding over him like a hot bath.

Dead curiosity observed the man, neither annoyed nor amused. "Why do you laugh?"

Slowly, the heaping mass of crimson bones and sickly sparkling flesh moved a little. It shouldn’t have been possible, but he laughed and got to his knees.

“I laugh, said the man, “because I choose to laugh. I will laugh until I die. I will laugh after I am dead, and, as I laugh, I will be assured in the knowledge that it is my choice. It is my choice, and I have made it.”

Pieces scattered to the darkness

Leave something of yourself in my book
(if you'd like)