Virus

Is what she sees.

In fact, that's all she can see.

Brown eyes are gifted with the ability to mentally depict through playful imagination all the gore and humiliation.

It's such an immense experience, she can even tell you the raw emotions, the primitive irrationality, the rush of such anticipation to find out the ending.

Similar to the creeping temptation of reading the last chapter of a novel, you'd learn the outcome yet not truly have an understanding of how the characters deal with their journey to those last pages.

The funny thing is, she can see it, every glorious second of their demise.

Like a series of moving pictures.

She doesn't know when or how, there are too many possibilities.

She loathes this part of her, it's so wicked and nasty but she can't seem to help it.

Poison. Infection.

A sickness she came purged from her body.

No matter how much she prays or ignores or places the thoughts in a little black box deep in the abyss of her mind.

Those vicious imaginations always return.

Perhaps it is a sign? Or maybe a confirmation of corruption.

Either way, she'll have a front row seat with a bucket of butter popcorn.