…And then there was Dan…
written by maria pistorino



3:45 a.m.   "And don't come back, until you can pay your tab!" Stumbling into the parking lot, 
Dan's dilated and bloodshot eyes slowly rolled to the back of his head as he mumbled something back at the 
bartender.  His words slurred over as shadowed figures floated around his head and quickly constricted his 
once spacious void.  Disappearing into the black background of his mind Dan's misinterpreted evening was 
soon gone, yet little did he know that this end was only the beginning.  
6:25 a.m.   Staring at the pallid, cream-colored ceiling, Dan finally woke to the conscious world.  
Eyes still dilated and somewhat buzzed, he sat up in the well-worn mattress and rolled his eyes around the 
room.  The mirrors that encircled him reflected his inverted image back through the gray pupils and 
deteriorated cornea of his saturated eyes.   
	There in the doorway stood Maria, slouched up against the doorframe, staring blankly into nothingness.  
Her mindless stare faded into a blur and her pupils disappeared into their sockets.  Filled with a desperate 
fear of longing and remorse she found him helpless in a world of his own.  Shaking her head she 
disappeared from the doorway down the hall, leaving Dan bewildered and confused in the midst of his 
diluted state of unrealistic unconsciousness.  Catching a glimpse of her coffee colored locks, he stumbled 
out of bed and attempted to crawl to the door.  Knocking over cigarette boxes and empty beer cans, he rolled 
through the debris, attempting to make his way past the five-inch barriers that stood blockading the way.  He 
called after her, but his throat allowed no more than a coarse, faint whisper to escape his lips, that in it self 
was only drowned out by the loud gurgling sounds of indoor plumbing.  
	Moments later Dan found himself strewn across the threshold, connecting hallway to delirium and again 
in an unrealistic state of unconsciousness.  Trudging down the hallway, Maria encountered this corpse in her 
path.  Seeing that it did not budge after persistent nudging, she forced a blow upon him, causing a 
discoloration of his toned skin and an acute pain in the small of his back.  His body cringed as she stepped 
over him.  But before turning the corner her hazel green eyes happened to look back as he quivered 
uncontrollably.  His eyes saw her quick glance, yet missed the smirk she had, planted on her face.  
	His legs, both bruised and weak, were unable to support the 170 pounds of muscle as he crawled after 
her, dragging his legs behind him on the wooden hall floor.  Again he called her name, but the apartment 
had enveloped itself in silence.  After three feet of eternity he reached the kitchen, and could see the 
crevices of Maria's back and the sweats that hung right below them.  The counters were cluttered with all 
sorts of debris and where Maria stood it grew in a heap on the floor.  She opened the refrigerator door and 
was greeted by a blast of dead air.  Her eyes quickly searched the empty shelves, yet was not disappointed to 
find them in such condition.  Returning to the counter, she attempted to swing the door shut, but it bounced 
back, slowly inching until it hung motionless on its hinges.  
	Now clinging to Maria's sweats, he attempted to pull himself up, to see what she was preparing.  Yet he 
was unsuccessful and decided to simply close his eyes and drop his head back against the wooden cabinets. 
The decapitated receiver came tumbling off the counter and split as it hit the floor. The useless phone cord 
hung from the wall like a vein displaced from the body; hypnotizing Dan as it swung back and forth, in a 
steady, monotonous movement.  As his body quivered uncontrollably, Maria took notice of his presence and 
along with the mug she had furnished brought him a warm wool blanket.  Draping it over his shoulders she 
handed him the mug and pulled a packet of Reds from her zip down sweater; proceeded to light one and 
hand it to him.  Taking her place beside him on the floor, in the darkest corner of the kitchenette, Dan 
opened his eyes and once again saw the golden brown locks that hung over her hazel nut pupils.  For once, 
rather the first time that morning, a smile broke across his face.   
Now fully conscious, or so he thought, Dan could smell the warm contents of the mug.  Rolling, 
"Thanks," off the side of his tongue, he blew her a kiss and for a moment, stepped away from himself to 
observe.  Never before had he seen her from this angle and her eyes glimmered as his pupils tried to focus in 
on the details of her physique.  She pecked the side of his face, tenderly pressing her lips against his left 
temple.
Darting around the room, his eyes frantically searched for the acute details of the apartment.  Sitting 
there he felt the sweat buildup under the wool and trickle down his brow.  Staring at a small plastic bag and 
its white powdery contents, Dan reached out his arm in attempts to grab it.  Throwing his body forward and 
knocking over the mug, he fell face to the ground.  Short of the bag, Dan stretched himself out through the 
tips of his fingers until his skin could stretch no more; his fingers barely reached the plastic corners of the 
bag and he clenched his fist, slamming it against the hard enamel floor.  
Fingering the bag; his arms flung uncontrollably as he fidgeted with his legs and tried to regain 
control of his sporadically sprawled body.  Exhausted he lay motionless, squinting his eyes and focusing in 
on the shadows as they danced on the walls and out the broken window.  Yet one shadow stood apart from 
the rest, staunch and immobile.  And as he stared it slowly mutated into a bodily figure, and leapt from the 
wall into reality.  The blond tips of her hair hung down by her sides as her thin, pale arms framed her hips, 
swinging interchangeably from the elbow accompanied by her slow familiar gait.  
He somehow found the strength to stand; and as he leaned against the counter she threw him a white 
oxford shirt.  "Tuck it in," she said, "He's Coming." His pupils finally focused and he watched as Maria 
emptied his pockets into a drawer.  Slamming it shut, she looked at him, her eyes expressed some sort of 
loss and longing as they glared at him from under her untamed brows and pinning him against the wall, 
striped him of any and all comfort.  Her gaze could have frightened the most ferocious of creatures, but Dan 
knew; and curiously lit a cigarette.  
Grabbing the bag he emptied its contents onto a flat aluminum dish and listened as Maria's footsteps 
echoed down the hall, accompanied by the creaking floorboards and the sudden loud crash of some heavy 
weight object.  
Pausing for a moment Dan stared at his unkept reflection in the empty dish.  Opening the drawer he 
searched through the mangled array of useless and priceless remains.  Switch blades, lighters, condoms, 
pencils, thumbtacks, hooks, needles; even left over holiday peppermints, all cluttered the drawer, 
deliberately stalling his efforts to find his most precious and expensive prize.  
Snapping the drawer shut, Maria's delicate fingers flashed across his memory.  Seeing them slide 
across the plastic seal of the bag his eyes slowly began to drift down in the direction of the hall.  His feet 
soon followed and he found himself staring down what seemed to be an endless and lifeless hallway.
 "Maria?"
 It was dark, the doors had been sealed and the air was icy cold.  Dan's palms grew increasingly 
clammy as perspiration began to stockpile in his pores.  As he experienced a self-induced adrenaline rush he 
pushed open the bedroom door.  Struggling to keep afoot he tripped over his feet and practically took the 
door down with him.
"Shit!"  
" Maria?"
 His voice now deeper and with a slight tint of concerned echoed in his ears like a loud base drum.  
Looking around he noticed that the sweat stained mattress had been pushed forward from the wall; and now 
lay halved and on its side.  The filing cabinet had been knocked over and the vase was now unevenly 
distributed throughout the room.   
He started to back away when he caught sight of some golden locks hanging off the edge of the 
mattress.  There, propped up against it, Maria sat in a pool of coffee, legs sprawled across the floor, head 
hung slightly to the left.  Dan felt her cold, clammy skin; his eyes touched the needles, the pregnancy results 
and the many miscellaneous objects that were systematically thrown about the room.  Her arms hung from 
their joints, limp and lifeless, and like her feet, they too were raw and badly bruised.  The whites of her eyes 
stared blankly at the ceiling and the corner of her lips were changing to a purplish blue hue.  Dan pressed his 
head against her chest, but her lungs had long since given up.  Sitting on the floor he focused on her deadly 
white arms and the purple veins that ran through them.   Examining his own arms, he noticed that his veins 
too had turned a purplish shade, and that his lips were following suite as well.  
Jumping up in somewhat of a bewildered trance he set in search for his blade.  Plowing through the 
drawer, he slapped it upon his wrist, but the blood did not ooze, rather smeared his arms red.  Staring in 
disbelief, he returned to the room to find a pool of blood mingling with the sea of cold coffee.
The sunlight that had once poured in the shattered window was now gone.  Boxed in the room Dan 
quickly became disoriented as he tried to distinguish the various objects he knew were situated around him.  
Unknowingly Dan's eyes blotted themselves shut and his head fell forward, pulling his torso down 
uncontrollably.  His body was forced into an awkward position and he felt the energy drain from his 
crippled limbs.   Incapable of moving, he had no choice but to hang limp in this empty void of time, and 
attempt to unravel its mysteries.  As he lay there, his eyes stared blindly into nothingness, his senses were 
sharpened and he heard some loud, obnoxious banging. 
"Bad Trip?" he thought, "Nau."
 Someone was indeed knocking, on what he was not sure, but it was evident that he had indeed 
come.  
Visions of Dan