From the Eyes of a Juror

  For some reason, to this very day Newlan would still have vivid dreams from time to time, centered around the old butcher’s powerful saw.

  Dreams so real that he could actually hear the terrifying sound of the saw as it effortlessly cut through flesh and bone like a shredder going through a piece of paper.

  Dreams so real that he could actually smell the stomach-turning odor of decomposing carcasses which built up over a long day spent chopping up sides of beef and pork into various cuts of meat.

  Dreams so real that he could actually breathe in the bloody mist and the powdery remnants of sawed-up cartilage which lingered in the air and then gathered like sawdust on the floor (in real life he even resorted to wearing a dust mask to prevent from inhaling the sooty organic substance and to block out the odor…but it was all to no avail).

  Dreams so real that he could actually taste the oozing blood and gristle of the remains which collected inside the cavity of the saw along with maggots, hundreds, maybe even thousands of maggots.

  Dreams so real that he could actually feel the wormy creatures crawling up his sleeves as he stuck his gloved hands into the cavity of the saw and scooped the ground-up mixture of flesh and meat and bones which represented death in every way.

  Dreams which were in fact so real that Newlan would wake up sweating and shaking uncontrollably at the unpleasant thought that this unrecognizable mass of leftover debris had once been a living breathing animal.

  However tonight when the sleeping Newlan pried opened the door of the razor-sharp saw, which had been locked for safety reasons, it was not the remains of an animal that he viewed in his mind’s eye; or more precisely it was an animal, but it was an animal of the human variety.

  What Newlan observed in his unconscious reflection was the skeletal remains of a human head rolling towards him like a runaway bowling ball. Not a normal human skeleton head, but a grotesque, larger-than-life object like something that you’d see in an old-time horror movie.

  But to Newlan, the skeleton head did not represent a Hollywood prop. On the contrary, it symbolized an unearthly entity, an unholy deity, a tortured soul unable to rest in peace.

  The skeleton head rumbled towards the retreating Newlan until it finally came to a stop a few inches from his feet where it mesmerizingly looked up to him and smiled an evil smile. Maggots began to crawl from its eye sockets and blood dripped from its mouth. Its teeth and jaws began to clatter and it spoke three words; three words and three words only; “AVENGE…MY…DEATH.”