A well dressed man sings on the stage in front of Joseph as he sits and awaits his drink.  In his black suit, white dress shirt and black tie he taps his fingers on the red cloth lavishing the round table in front of him.  The music sooths his thoughts as his drink finally comes, brought by a beautiful blonde who offers her services further.  “Will there be anything else Sir?”  She asks with a sensual tone, Joseph gives her a glance, her black blouse exposing her chest, her jade eyes, and her lush lips seem to be taunting him.  “No, I am fine.”  He states, offering no sign of interest.  “Well just let me know if you need anything.”  She says as she strolls off to the bar.  He offers a glance to her figure as she departs, lusting over her like a piece of fresh meat; for a second he felt free, a feeling that has been absent for too long.

            A vibration comes from his pocket.  He digs into it with his hand and pulls out his phone.  It’s her, calling for the fourth time straight.  She is wondering what he is doing, he watches the light on the screen of the phone blink and starts to wonder the same thing.  Is he that angry that he cannot even talk to her?  He ignores the call once again and just gets captured by the music surrounding the place.  The notes are calm, with each beat corresponding to a tranquil river of sound to Joseph’s ears.  It has been more than 5 years since he has been on the prowl, far too long for an attractive man like himself. 

            The minutes turn to hours, as the place is emptied of its usual crowd and only the depressed dead are left to dwell within the seats.  Gorging on booze and cigarette smoke in order to attempt to forget their lives, yet no matter what memories will always creep back in.  One thought haunts Joseph; the daughter he lost.  He remembers her face, as pale as the snow devouring her around dark brown trees.  She is holding out her hand asking for his help, her blue eyes breach through the storm but he can never make it; she always ends up lost in his thought.  A tear escapes his eyes as he awakes to the same red table which greeted him when he walked in.  Six empty glasses surround him, his mouth moist from the saliva dripping from it.  He then starts to utter words of regret, “She hates me for not helping her…she blames me!”  Was it the liquor talking or is it a rational mind? Yet Joseph cannot shake the feelings that he has lost his wife, she will never forgive him. The blond from before comes back and speaks to him, “Is there anything I can get you sir?”  He gazes at her, sensing a primal lust in her words, entrancing him in her aura.  The next moment he finds himself in bed with her, but he is also a guest of this scene.  He is bewildered since he his watching himself having sex with another women from the rear of the room as well as the one committing the adultery.  Just then he walks up next to Joseph to comment, still wearing his white suit, and still vaunting his endless power.

“Man she’s hot! Good job Joseph.”  He says with a slight grin on his face.

“Why must you torture me?”  Joseph asks saddened by the act he must watch.

“O don’t be like that Joseph, this is as painfully for me as it is for you.”  He says smiling arrogantly still watching the sin in progress.

“I was drunk and foolish.”

“How many times have I heard that excuse!”

“She means nothing to me.”

“Yet I am sure she would mean something to your wife.”

“Yet I would believe it means tons to your wife.”

Joseph looks away for a second to ponder his woes, then again speaks.

“Perhaps, but we all make mistakes.  No one is perfect.”

“Exactly!”  He says snapping his fingers in the process.

                The scenery changes back to the desolated washroom where Joseph started, but it is slightly different.  The washroom seems smaller, some of the windows seem to have disappeared and the stalls are all gone.  Joseph is back in his white shirt and jeans; his hand is still wrapped from the early cut.

“So since perfection can never be achieved by humans, why do so many seem to strut there vanity as a symbol of some delusional grandeur?  Mind you I am a horrible loser.”  He says pacing back and forth in front of Joseph, yet keeping his eyes on him.

“They wish to try and be perfect, or as close to perfect as possible.”  Joseph whispers nervous with every word.

“You haven’t answered my question.  I asked why?”  He says appear behind Joseph and stabbing him in this left arm with a large rusted knife, blood drips quickly to the floor as he screams off the pain.

“In order to be a pure soul and in gods good graces?”

He starts to twist the blade in his arm causing Joseph to fall to his feet as the agonizing pain is sent throughout his body.

“Don’t feed me that **** rubbish they teach you in Sunday school Joseph, you are not a sheep anymore!  Now tell me why do they strut their ideals in the faces of those who believe in something different, something other than what they preach?  Why are they evil!?”

“Cause they don’t understand!”

He stops twisting the blade and gives a curious nod.

“What do you mean Joseph?”

“They don’t understand the world around them so in order for them to make sense of it they must believe in something higher; something other than themselves.”

“So their ignorance of seeking their own answers as lead them to conjure a hero who has the power to change, shape, and alter time.  Makes sense, but then why do they daunting persona about their beliefs?”  He says twisting the blade a bit more, the sound of flesh ripping bounces off the bloody walls.

“Cause most do it for recognition not for the goodness in itself.  Man seeks their own happiness, in turn using this system as a means to control the ignorant masses into believe their sins can be washed away but asking them for forgiveness.”

“Humans fear death so in turn live good lives hoping to be compensated when they pass away.  That’s so hilarious.”  He screams letting out a huge laughter and letting go of the blade that was penetrating Josephs arm. 

Joseph falls to the floor and takes out the knife, screaming as every inch leaves his body.  His laughter is almost as painful as the blade.  Joseph lies on the floor in a pool of his own blood; his head feels heavy on the cold concrete.  He cannot move his arms; his body seems to be becoming a stiff lifeless doll.  Joseph’s eyes slowly close as he moves close to his face and speaks.

“It’s been fun Joseph, and I hope I taught you something.  Don’t fear death, cause no matter what you do, it will all one day end.  And I will be there to greet you…”