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Benjamin Dialectical Journal

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The concrete stairs ascended at a harsh angle, a glistening bronze handrail aside them. At the foot of the stairs was a large, clear landing, void of all but two cracked pots of dying hydrangea and a ratty vending machine that only sold generic ginger ale. There weren't any lights in the landing, nor were there any windows. It was dark and very damp; some green and purple mosses grew in tatters from the ceiling and occasionally stretched across the dusty floor.
But, from the head of the stairs, a glaring ray of sunshine slid through. A worn, black door stood ajar, making room for the blazing warmth to intrude.
The body in the middle of the stairs was sprawled like a struck animal. Its arms were strewn out, reaching in vain for the brilliantly …show more content…

Simultaneously, he slipped a clammy hand into his inside pocket, closing two fingers around the slippery lips.
Benjamin could hear her at the door—she was pawing at the wood with anticipation.
“Yes—!” he howled gleefully, his fist clenching the bronze doorknob.
He threw it open, cast his arms out, and allowed the huge golden retriever to jump up, licking his face and slobbering nastily onto the black coat. She was proud—who could argue else with this gleeful salutation at hand?
“Now, now—” called Benjamin, laughing. “Calm down, Salem! ...”
She took her large paws off him and sank to the ground in a pleasant sitting position, her tail wagging back and forth fiercely. The dog’s fur was a golden blonde. In the dark of the basement bedroom, it seemed to gleam, sleek and bright.
Benjamin knelt before of the dog named Salem; he held a clenched hand out to her. In it sat two, slick slivers of flesh, pale and unassuming; they were such a minute brilliance—such a nothing in the grand scheme.
“I have found him ...” said Benjamin, his face lit like a child’s. “Here—look here—the lips, I have them.”
He held his hand out to her, uncurling his pale fingertips.
“You …show more content…

“You see?” repeated Benjamin, an air of nervousness plaguing his tone. “I have them—at last. Do you see?”
But oddly she seemed uninterested. Her wagging tail began to sail across the carpeted floor, dragging more with each consecutive pass, and she had closed her moist snout. She gazed solemnly up into Benjamin’s quickly falling face.
“Is this—is this not enough?” he muttered, hands trembling.
He clenched his outstretched hand around the severed lips, recalling the lurid scene from which they had come. The blood that likely still slunk from step to step ... the pearly white, up-rolled eyeballs....
Benjamin stood slowly, his face steely and speckled with stale anger.
“Alright,” he sighed, making a stride past the hulking dog and into the bedroom.
The room was musty and dimly lit. A heavy curtain was drawn across the only window, allowing only a slight and pathetic slant of balmy sunlight to slip in. Faintly, the air tasted of dog urine and stray fur—a fusty undertone hovering beneath ghostly.
“Perhaps,” said Benjamin, “the next shall please you....” But he wasn't convinced. Each kill ... each painstaking victory for the both of them ... each resulted only in

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