"Once You've Sat At The Top of The World, You Never Really Come Back Down."


Without him, all of you would be lost souls roamin
Feb 23, 2005
The dying embers of the sun caressed James' face as he dragged Stephen's naked body through the snow. He had to work quickly, before the light left him entirely. He had come to view the sun as an unecessary evil. It light was like was not nurturing or warm. It was like the light of an empty planet, haunted by the spirits of ancient death. He hated it. It made him want to vomit. But he need it for his work.

He quickly reached his destination: The Pit. It was two feet deep and six feet long. Some would label it a grave, but James knew better. Graves are permanent. This wasn't a grave. He rolled Stephen's body into the Pit next to Nathan. For a moment he admired the macabre scene. He imagined two lovers, together forever in their icy tomb. But Stephen and Nathan were never lovers and this was no tomb. Shaken from his day dream, he lowered himself onto his knees. He felt the familiar wave of pain run up his spine as he hunched over the Pit. He let out a long sigh and drove his gloved hands into the snow. He shoveled the snow onto their bodies until they were entirely covered. By the time he was finished, the sun had set and a thick darkness hung over everything.

He felt slightly better now that the bodies were out of sight, but he could still smell them. It was suffocating. It reminded him of his Aunt Nancy's house. A particular variety of "old lady smell". A lethal combination of cat piss and plastic covered furniture that you couldn't find anywhere else. The bodies smelled entirely different than this, but they seemed to be linked in some frustratingly abstract way. Maybe it was the smell of decay...James didn't know and he didn't want to know.

James hiked back to the camp site, farther up the mountain. He built himself a fire and dried his hands into its heat. He sat on a pile of clothes and jackets. Dead men's clothes.

"Once you've sat at the top of the world, you never really come back down." That's what Smokey told us before we left. They had met him in that little place, that last scrap of civilization. He stank of cigars and cheap booze. He told them stories about the effect that these mountains could have on someone's mind. "Many a man has lost there head up there."

Crazy bastard, thought James. I'm sane I if I were insane I'd know it. He doesn't know anything about me. He's probably still down there in that ****hole laughing his *** off about this whole thing. The crazy bastard.

James reached into his pocket and pulled out the flesh. Once Stephen was dead, he had takenn out his knife and began cutting. He had wrapped it up neatley in a piece of flannel fabric, like a Christmas present from Hell. This was the only way he could survive. If he hadn't done this first, they would've done it to him. Survival. He took out a strip and speared it on his ice axe. He dangled it over the fire until it was cooked just right. He wanted it to taste terrible. he wanted it to taste disgusting, but it didn't. In fact, it was delicious. The most delicious thing he had ever eaten, he decided. He ate all the meat in the bloody piece of fabric. Then, he slipped into his sleeping bag and pulled the clothes and coats over him for extra warmth. He fell into a deep sleep, the kind you can only experience in a place like this.

"Rise and shine, Jimmy-Boy! Its time to kill again!" James was startled awake. He looked up and was instantly horrified. "There ain't no alarm clocks on Everest, Jimmy-Boy," said Stephen.


"You've got work to do." James crawled out of his sleeping bag and got to his feet. Stephen looked just as pale and lifeless as the night before, but he walked and talked as if he were alive. He was wearing his shirt and pants, but was missing his jacket and other snow gear.

"That's right," said Nathan, in a similar state, putting on his shirt. "Say, why'd you take our clothes, Jim? Talk about awkward."

"Here you can keep our coats. We won't be needing those anymore. Hehehe..."

"B-but you're dead! YOU'RE DEAD!"

"Of course we are Stephen," began Stephen. "You killed us."

"And ate us."

"I always knew you had it in ya, Jimmy-Boy. I'm sure you've thought about it before. Fantasized about it..."

"No, no. I haven't. I had to survive, that's why I did it!"

"You enjoyed it and you know it!," said Nathan. "I could see it in your eyes as you squeezed my neck. As you strangled the life out of me."

"And the cannibalism. You though we were delicious. Who knows, maybe you've developed a taste for it. Maybe when you get home you'll start eating little kiddies like that Jeffrey Dahmer fellow-"

"Stop it!"

"Think about it Jimmy, you'll be famous!-"


"I'm afraid we can't. In five minutes, two climbers are going to find you here. And their going to see what you've done...," said Nathan.

"Are you gonna let them turn you in, or are you going to do something about it?"

"No...I-I have to..." stuttered James.

"That's better. You know what you gotta do, right?" Stephen held up the ice axe and handed it to James.

The two climbers had no idea what was coming. They didn't know that James was hiding behind that rock or that he'd bury an axe into their heads. James drove the axe down over and over again, letting the warm blood spray across his chest. He dragged the bodies back to camp, the blood trailing in his wake. There, Nathan and Stephen waited for him.

"You're shaping up nicely," said Nathan.

"But of course, this is just practice. The real killing will start soon enough."

"...oh my god...why'd I do that... I'm not a murderer..."

"Of course you are!," said Nathan. "Don't puss out on us now. You've gotta understand that you're fate is se in stone. You're a killer and a cannibal. Its what you do. Its what you'll always do."

"Just go with the flow."

"No! I won't! I'm not a killer, I'm not this person!"

"Its fate Jimmy!," said Stephen.

"...No, it isn't." James took out his knife and put it to each of his wrists untill he drew blood. He fell to the ground and everything went black. He swore he could hear the sound of a helicopter and smell that odor...Aunt Nancy's house...

James awoke and looked around. He was in bed, in a warm white hospital room. He looked down. His wrists were heavily bandaged. Still groggy, he wondered if this was a dream or some odd afterlife. Suddenly, a doctor entered the room and greeted James with a smile.

"Hello, Mr. Larson."

"Where am I?"

"The Everest Base Camp Medical Clinic. You were found on Everest by a chopper team. Luckily, you did a pretty crappy job of slitting your wrists. You just barely survived. We also found your friends. Now, I have no interest in knowing what happened. These things happen, but we tend to keep them under wraps."

"But, Doctor I-"

"I don't care. Whatever happened to you up on that mountain, leave it there. Go on with your life."

"...You're right...I will. I can move on."

"Good, now why don't you get some sleep?" The Doctor left the room and James closed his eyes and began to drift off.

"Rise and shine, Jimmy-Boy!" James opened his eyes to see two dead men standing at the foot of his bed. He recoiled in horror.

"...god no..."

"We told you that you've got more killing to do," said Nathan.

"Cuz ya know what they say," began Stephen. "'Once you've sat at the top of the world, you never really come back down.'"
thee great one said:
Wow. I give that a 10 out of 10. That was a really good story. Extremely creepy. Excellent job.

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