I've been going through his closet, and trying on his clothes. I put them back and close the door.
A knock on my door nights ago.
The man called "Van Helsing", the Brian no more was at my doorstep.
The overweight hulk with his face his eyes under the fucking fedora and the fucking leather jacket who does he think he is fucking neo or somethin? Bullshit. Fucking Bullshit. Fuck fhcuk fuck fuclk=ing bullshit! I
"Rachael, open the door." he said, his voice the same if deeper and sadder.
My eyes widened. Did he remember? How much did he remember? Did he...
"Fuck you Hellsing! Go away." There's no way. He couldn't have. He's dead. He was a shell of a man.
"What?" I tore the door open "What is it? You remember my name now?"
"Rachael..." There were tears in his fat fucking eyes, like he was struggling with something long ignored, long forgotten. "I, I know you."
"Of course you do you fat fuck, you know me. YOU KNEW ME!" i looked into his face and Brian looked into the eyes of his lover his wife
and he ran into the night like a squirrel hunted by a hawk not seen but sensed in the sky far above.
Rachael sank to the floor of her doorway and she wept for hours until there were no more tears. She wept for Konaa, for Schrodinger, for Maurice and for Brian, and Rachael.
When the tears were gone she curled up in his closet with Maurice's swtichblade and flicked it in and out, staring at the blade. she disrobed and looked at herself in his mirror, staring at the cuts all along her arms, her legs, her sides.
she went through Brian's closet and tried on all of his clothes. She wore them and smelt them
even after all these years he still smells the same