Death Obsessed

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It was the Internet that reacquainted Calvin with his death obsession. He thought that was a chapter left behind in his oblivious days of teenage confusion, but there it was again, silently waiting for him like some dormant plague buried for years, festering amongst the remains of its last carriers.

It began with a video clip that was having its fifteen minutes: two cage fighters in a match. One of them kicked the other and broke his leg quite grotesquely. There were plenty of similar clips on YouTube of other such limbs snapping in unimaginable ways, but this particular clip was the current buzz on the national news outlets and social media sites. Something light in the wake of terrorist attacks and sickos molesting children.

Calvin laughed at Ronnie’s repulsion of the video. It wasn’t a mean sort of laugh, or at least he didn’t think so. She grimaced as the cage fighter took a step back on his newly broken leg only to have it bend ninety degrees, dropping him to the mat. The break was just below the knee, his lower leg lying there in an unnatural angle like an unfilled sock. The tight clenching of his teeth said more than his pained screams, which were muffled under the gasps of the crowd.

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