Alexander was a fairly well off kid, good grades, handsome and charming, basically any good quality you'd want in a person. However, because of this and the constant praise he received Alexander became quite conceited. He enjoyed history quite a bit and believed himself to be a reincarnation of Alexander the Great, a naive and asinine belief we know but strange things happen when you become full of yourself. Those bold enough to look past his outward traits were repulsed by this selfish and cocky nature, but the others he surrounded himself with were shameless yuppies latching on hoping some of the greatness might rub off on them. This however is not another publication to pump up his already swelled ego, no this a warning for Alexander and others like him.
The details of his life are rather droll and standard for a man of his stature; popular in high school, all-American sports star, so on and so forth. This isn't about the glory in his life, this is about the downfall and turnaround of said life because thankfully there is such a thing as poetic justice and people really can change. Alexander developed a sense of invincibility which led to some poor decisions, none poorer than his recent decision to challenge God. Alexander didn't believe in anything, but himself and squandered his talents on petty parlor tricks and clinging onto high school glory. He wasn't a proclaimed atheist, but by no means was he a Christian. At 23 Alexander was stumbling his way through college and slowly grasping the fact that good looks isn't everything, which led to his breakdown and disappointment in everything. It was at this lowest point though, Alexander learned one of his greatest life lessons...drunkenly wandering the streets and highways isn't safe you might get hit by a car which is exactly what happened to him.
He woke up not in a hospital nor his home, but in a space of completely white. It didn't feel he was dead or alive, the feeling was indescribable it was just nothing. There was no taste, smell, touch, or sound yet. Alexander wandered around the area and hearing no sound of footsteps despite his running he began to panic frantically searching for answers. It was in this panic that Alexander suddenly felt a presence and a hand on his shoulder accompanied by a voice telling him to be still. He wheeled around ready to confront this person, but found no one and nothing still. Sighing dejectedly he sat down contemplating his situation when the voice came back to him.
"Have you found the answers you seek yet?"
"Of course not! I'm the only one here how am I supposed to find answers to anything?"
"Have you stopped to ask anything though?"
"Well..." he looked down at his feet, "No, I figured I'd find out on my own."
"You were never alone Alexander, I've been with you the entire time."
"Then why the hell didn't you help me?"
"Because you never asked."
Alexander was about to respond, but withdrew it and began fuming. Whatever this place was he was going to get out of it with or without the voices help.
"Without Me, it will only make your journey that much harder Alexander."
"Yeah how so?...Wait how did you read my thoughts?"
There was a soft chuckle that echoed in the nothing before the voice responded, "I know more than you can imagine child."
"Hmph...So what you're like God or something?"
"A very keen observation, finally using that intelligence I gave you." There was another chuckle.
"OK Great...Am I dead then and this is some sort of listing of my sins or what's the point here?"
"Based on your actions if you were dead we wouldn't be talking, this is just a concerned Father having a talk with one of his sons."
"That's...that's uh something I guess, but how do I know you're not just some apparition of my guilty conscious trying to atone?
"Does that matter?"
"Of course, it's a question of your existence, if you're not real then why bother listening to you?"
"If you have already rejected my existence don't you think I would be gone now?"
"I guess....but still prove you're God then."
"Now now Alexander Luke 4:12 'Jesus answered, "It says: 'Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'"
"Yeah yeah, of course you pull the bible excuse."
"Well it is my word, only fair I would say."
"Fine then...what's my purpose here? Some life changing epiphany?"
"If it comes to that. I'm just concerned as to why you are selfishly wasting yourself Alexander?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Instead of using the things I gave you for a better purpose, you manipulate and use them to glorify yourself."
"OK so I'll do more volunteer work does that mean I get to go now?" Alexander's tone and posture had become more defensive.
"It's not as simple as giving a weekend or two to the soup kitchen Alexander, this issue goes deeper than that."
"Then what do you want from me?"
"I want peace for you my son."
"Oh yeah? Then why wait until I have this apparent accident to give me my big epiphany?"
"I cannot help those who do not seek me."
"Tch...what a cop out."
"If it is such a cop out then tell me Alexander, do you blindly help those who do not ask? Would you help someone who tossed aside the gifts you gave him and turned his back to you?"
"N...No but you abandoned me!"
"When? On the nights of drunk driving? Alexander I have always been guiding you despite your scornful attitude."
"So am I supposed to go to church every Sunday, join some support groups?"
"Live your life as I intended for you."
"What does that mean?"
Alexander's question went unanswered as it lingered in the air and he felt the presence leave the area. He sat in silence for a few moments before he then felt himself fading out of the area. Expecting to hear the sounds of beeps and rhythmic rushing of feet as nurses hustle down hallways, but all he heard was the car horns outside and Maury on his TV. He sat up in a violent and wild flail expecting soreness and stitches, but again found nothing out of the ordinary. Alexander got up searching for some calendar, the last he remember it was June 22 and today was....June 23 only a night had passed? He shook his head getting a headache from the pounding ideas swirling in his head. Was any of that real? What happened last night, was he hit by a car or not? Maybe this was just some sort of premonition or something crazy like that, but enough of the ideas he thought and with that decision he headed outside expecting the air to calm him down. He trotted down the stairs finding a much better surprise than just air, his neighbor Hannah. Hannah was a pleasant girl of no outstanding features who also happened to have a crush on Alexander. She would invite him to things like bowling or church just to be near him, but Alexander always had a crafty response to wriggle out of it. I mean how could Alexander let himself be seen with such a girl, but he certainly wasn't mean enough to reject. But as fate would have it, today was Sunday and Hannah had her usual offer, persistent girl she was. He almost declined her again, but couldn't think of a pretty little lie. With his pride gone and ego humbled Alexander was able to see her for her and life as it really was. It's not a perfect ending as we all still have our flaws and quirks but it's certainly a step towards the positive.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
What Dreams Are Made Of
He walked down the street a bit sullenly kicking a pebble along as he went. It was in that weird transition period of weather between Spring and Winter where it wasn't quite cold, but it wasn't warm enough for people enjoy making Cody and his pebble the only ones on the street. Cody was a bland 20-something that blended in with the background pretty well and in a description given about him from a former friend 'Cody is a manilla envelope tacked onto a beige wall'. With such glowing reviews as this, it makes sense that Cody preferred to keep to himself which made this time of year especially nice for him. He could peruse the park freely with out having to bother with the niceties. The only downside to all of this is that Cody hit a bit of a rough patch the past few months and was living in and out of different places be it, cars, hotels, or streets, as he struggled to find a job and some stability. Cody was too stubborn to willingly accept help which made things harder and his only break from it all were these walks.
Today Cody wandered into the park and unwittingly into the solution for his problems. He sat down on one of the benches by the river and idly watched the water. Cody had a million thoughts racing through his head: where was he going to sleep next, could he actually find a job, etcetera. That is until an unassuming old man came in an interrupted came in and broke the silence. Now this old man was a simple guy, a fashionable oak cane, argyle sweater vest, and simple brown shoes. What was peculiar about the man wasn't anything physical, it was the offer that he had for Cody. Mr. Cooper, as he identified himself, apparently had the solution to all of Cody's problems; house, money, and job. He was handing the keys to his lonely estate to Cody as he had no successors of his own and didn't want his house to end up sad and dilapidated like most homes do. When asked why he didn't just sell it Mr. Cooper explained that it can't just be handed to anyone, there were secrets inside that not just anyone could find even if they tried. Reluctantly Cody took the keys and bid farewell to the man.
Cody had no intentions of running to this house though, as the whole thing just seemed to strange and surreal to be an actual option. After a few days though, curiosity got the best of him and he traveled to the country where this house was. It was an old log cabin style home, but already looked like it had been abandoned for years. He sighed brokenheartedly and meandered over to the house. Was the man even real he thought, was it just a delusion? It couldn't be, how could he get a specific address to a place he's never seen from his own head? In any case it provided a home, shambles or otherwise, it was better than nothing. Cody exited his vehicle and walked up to the house awaiting a Scooby-Doo villain to pop out of the door at any moment. However, that never happened and the walk up to the sickly peeled doors was boring and quite but when he entered he did get to see the movie cliche of old houses. It had that pale green dusty atmosphere that made the place seem out of time. Cody glanced around as he wandered the foyer, idly picking up musty pictures and old relics. The home held a lot of the same furniture and architecture of older pioneer homes and seemed to be untouched since Lincoln's era. The only oddity of the house was when Cody entered the master bedroom and found a large, tattered parachute amongst the refuse. They obviously didn't have airmail when this was built. so maybe it was just an antique that old man left behind. The more Cody dug though, the more nothing turned up and he eventually let out a sigh and dusted off one of the chairs sitting down. Why did he ever listen to this old man and go on this goose chase? He shifted uncomfortably in the chair whilst thinking and getting fed up quickly he stood and removed the cushion to check for loose springs.
There were no springs to be found underneath just a wad of old cash. Was this the big secret the man was giving to him? A few hundred dollars while helpful seemed a bit of a waste of time, Mr. Cooper could have just given this to him. He tossed it back on the chair and walked into the kitchen hopelessly looking for food, but was again surprised to find more literally cold, hard cash inside. Now it began to click in Cody's head. He had his suspicions confirmed when stumbling upon a drawer full of news clippings when looking for a bag to store the cash. Each and every clipping was about the infamous D.B. Cooper. Now the parachute and hidden cash made sense, but as to the why it was all given to him still eluded Cody. It was through more rummaging that Cody found his answers. There was a small hand-written note under the parachute and Cody had sat down to read it.
"Dear son,
I don't know your name for sure, but I think it's Cody. I'm sorry to unload all of this on you at once but I am your father, sorry for never being there kid. But now that you know who I am you can guess why. I know this is pretty awful of me, I just couldn't risk being caught in public meeting you and have your small fortune taken away. I know it's not much by today's standards, but it should be more than enough to get you back on your feet. And I know it's not the cleanest of money, but I figure you will put it to an honest effort. Anyways, by the time you read this I will have disappeared again I have no choice son I really am sorry, but it was good to finally see you.
Love,
Dad"
Cody sat there stoically for a moment before silently folding up the note and tucking it in his back pocket. As much as he wanted to believe it. he simply assumed the old man made a mistake and left it at that. Out of all the people his dad could have been he wasn't D.B. Cooper, or so Cody thought. He did take the money however out of necessity, it sure is a shame to waste money like that. So ends a bittersweet tale, a boys dreams of finally righting the wrongs in his life is no more than a bittersweet afternoon.
Today Cody wandered into the park and unwittingly into the solution for his problems. He sat down on one of the benches by the river and idly watched the water. Cody had a million thoughts racing through his head: where was he going to sleep next, could he actually find a job, etcetera. That is until an unassuming old man came in an interrupted came in and broke the silence. Now this old man was a simple guy, a fashionable oak cane, argyle sweater vest, and simple brown shoes. What was peculiar about the man wasn't anything physical, it was the offer that he had for Cody. Mr. Cooper, as he identified himself, apparently had the solution to all of Cody's problems; house, money, and job. He was handing the keys to his lonely estate to Cody as he had no successors of his own and didn't want his house to end up sad and dilapidated like most homes do. When asked why he didn't just sell it Mr. Cooper explained that it can't just be handed to anyone, there were secrets inside that not just anyone could find even if they tried. Reluctantly Cody took the keys and bid farewell to the man.
Cody had no intentions of running to this house though, as the whole thing just seemed to strange and surreal to be an actual option. After a few days though, curiosity got the best of him and he traveled to the country where this house was. It was an old log cabin style home, but already looked like it had been abandoned for years. He sighed brokenheartedly and meandered over to the house. Was the man even real he thought, was it just a delusion? It couldn't be, how could he get a specific address to a place he's never seen from his own head? In any case it provided a home, shambles or otherwise, it was better than nothing. Cody exited his vehicle and walked up to the house awaiting a Scooby-Doo villain to pop out of the door at any moment. However, that never happened and the walk up to the sickly peeled doors was boring and quite but when he entered he did get to see the movie cliche of old houses. It had that pale green dusty atmosphere that made the place seem out of time. Cody glanced around as he wandered the foyer, idly picking up musty pictures and old relics. The home held a lot of the same furniture and architecture of older pioneer homes and seemed to be untouched since Lincoln's era. The only oddity of the house was when Cody entered the master bedroom and found a large, tattered parachute amongst the refuse. They obviously didn't have airmail when this was built. so maybe it was just an antique that old man left behind. The more Cody dug though, the more nothing turned up and he eventually let out a sigh and dusted off one of the chairs sitting down. Why did he ever listen to this old man and go on this goose chase? He shifted uncomfortably in the chair whilst thinking and getting fed up quickly he stood and removed the cushion to check for loose springs.
There were no springs to be found underneath just a wad of old cash. Was this the big secret the man was giving to him? A few hundred dollars while helpful seemed a bit of a waste of time, Mr. Cooper could have just given this to him. He tossed it back on the chair and walked into the kitchen hopelessly looking for food, but was again surprised to find more literally cold, hard cash inside. Now it began to click in Cody's head. He had his suspicions confirmed when stumbling upon a drawer full of news clippings when looking for a bag to store the cash. Each and every clipping was about the infamous D.B. Cooper. Now the parachute and hidden cash made sense, but as to the why it was all given to him still eluded Cody. It was through more rummaging that Cody found his answers. There was a small hand-written note under the parachute and Cody had sat down to read it.
"Dear son,
I don't know your name for sure, but I think it's Cody. I'm sorry to unload all of this on you at once but I am your father, sorry for never being there kid. But now that you know who I am you can guess why. I know this is pretty awful of me, I just couldn't risk being caught in public meeting you and have your small fortune taken away. I know it's not much by today's standards, but it should be more than enough to get you back on your feet. And I know it's not the cleanest of money, but I figure you will put it to an honest effort. Anyways, by the time you read this I will have disappeared again I have no choice son I really am sorry, but it was good to finally see you.
Love,
Dad"
Cody sat there stoically for a moment before silently folding up the note and tucking it in his back pocket. As much as he wanted to believe it. he simply assumed the old man made a mistake and left it at that. Out of all the people his dad could have been he wasn't D.B. Cooper, or so Cody thought. He did take the money however out of necessity, it sure is a shame to waste money like that. So ends a bittersweet tale, a boys dreams of finally righting the wrongs in his life is no more than a bittersweet afternoon.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Jake and Ralphy: The Girl
They say you see a lot of weird things in the big cities and that's somewhat true I guess. My name is Jake Allograth and I live in a fairly standard apartment in Brooklyn. I work as one of those dorky delivery guys on bicycles and have seen my fair share of the creeps and crawlers that inhabit this town. I've seen a guy get his order while dressed as a clown and another lady pull the cash from her what I hope were originally brown panties. Still none of that compares to the everyday weirdness I encounter. You ever feel like something weird is going on around you but you're the only one who notices? That's kind of my situation. Anyways it's the end of a long day so I hop on the elevator hearing the faint call of a woman pleading me to hold the door. I almost didn't until I saw that it was Ashlyn and seized the opportunity to be next to her. I've had a crush on her since she moved in, but I've been to scared to say anything real.
"Phew, Thanks Jake!" she smiled, exhausted but happy.
"Oh pfft that? It was nothing" I smiled back awkwardly trying to be nonchalant and just looking idiotic.
Well that went...tragically. The rest of the trip up, to the 8th floor, was painfully quiet. We departed sharing another awkward exchange as I entered my apartment and she continued to hers 4 doors down. I sighed tossing my bag on the floor by the entrance. The only good part about being back in this cramped apartment was Ralphy being somewhat excited to see me. Ralphy is my little Jack Russel that I've had since he was a little pup.
"Soo how'd things go?" he asked jumping back onto the couch as I went to the fridge for a beer.
Yeah, that's right Ralphy can talk and why you ask? Hell if I know, he just sorta can I don't quite get it either but I'm used to it. He can be a sarcastic little prick sometimes though, but that might just be the New Yorker in him.
"They went, another awkward exchange with Ashlyn in the elevator though." I responded walking back into the living room.
He wheeled around raising up putting his front paws on the back of the couch, "Dude when are you going to man up and ask her out?"
"It's not that easy Ralphy, I'm not like you," I said cracking open the can, "I mean I can't just go up and sniffer her ass and say how's your morning?"
"Well why the hell not?"
I laughed a bit, "People just don't work that way man. You have to take them out and spend money on them." I walked around sitting down on the couch, "Money I don't have."
"Then can't humans just get new jobs?" he said facing me again.
"Again, not that easy," I sighed heavily "I've been submitting stuff to publications all the time but it's hard."
I turned on the TV after that not really wanting to carry on the conversation, it's one thing to talk about it but it's a whole other thing to talk about it with your dog. I hated my job and this crappy little life, but it's what I was stuck to for now at least. The hardest part about wanting to be a wirter in the NY area is that another thousand people are thinking the same thing so I slumped down in the cushion and surfed the channels resigning to mediocrity.
"Come on buddy let's get a walk in!" Ralphy began insisting after a bit of pawing at my arm. He may only be a dog but there is something to be said about the thought that animals can pick up on emotions because he's pretty good at it. I got up and grabbed his leash, hooking him up, and headed out the door.
"Oh boy a walk a walk a walk!!" he was like a kid waking up on Christmas but I noticed he got a lot quieter when he heard a door open so I looked over to investigate. Ashlyn had walked out of the door, dressed up for something. Ralphy began asking who it was but I nudged him to shut up quickly. I still wasn't quite sure if others heard him but I didn't want to seem crazy talking to a dog.
"Oh hey! Is that your dog?" Ashlyn asked as she approached noticing Ralphy before me, how lucky, and the smug SOB wagged his tail when she patted him and smirked up at me.
"Uhh yeah Ralphy, he's about 3 years old." I smiled watching her. "So uh what are you all dressed up for?"
"It's nothing," she giggled blushing a bit, "just a silly date."
My heart sank and Ralphy lost that smug little grin as we both knew how much this sucked for me. We exchanged a few more pleasantries before she rushed off and we stood there in silence.
"I'm sorry man...betcha the guys a douche anyways." Ralphy finally spoke up to break the ice.
"Yeah that seems to be how it goes." I smiled half-heartedly before my hand was tugged, "What are you doing?"
"Well just cause you're pissy doesn't mean we aren't having a walk come on!" he pulled me towards the elevator and we left. I may not have the girl or the job yet but for now at least I have Ralphy.
"Phew, Thanks Jake!" she smiled, exhausted but happy.
"Oh pfft that? It was nothing" I smiled back awkwardly trying to be nonchalant and just looking idiotic.
Well that went...tragically. The rest of the trip up, to the 8th floor, was painfully quiet. We departed sharing another awkward exchange as I entered my apartment and she continued to hers 4 doors down. I sighed tossing my bag on the floor by the entrance. The only good part about being back in this cramped apartment was Ralphy being somewhat excited to see me. Ralphy is my little Jack Russel that I've had since he was a little pup.
"Soo how'd things go?" he asked jumping back onto the couch as I went to the fridge for a beer.
Yeah, that's right Ralphy can talk and why you ask? Hell if I know, he just sorta can I don't quite get it either but I'm used to it. He can be a sarcastic little prick sometimes though, but that might just be the New Yorker in him.
"They went, another awkward exchange with Ashlyn in the elevator though." I responded walking back into the living room.
He wheeled around raising up putting his front paws on the back of the couch, "Dude when are you going to man up and ask her out?"
"It's not that easy Ralphy, I'm not like you," I said cracking open the can, "I mean I can't just go up and sniffer her ass and say how's your morning?"
"Well why the hell not?"
I laughed a bit, "People just don't work that way man. You have to take them out and spend money on them." I walked around sitting down on the couch, "Money I don't have."
"Then can't humans just get new jobs?" he said facing me again.
"Again, not that easy," I sighed heavily "I've been submitting stuff to publications all the time but it's hard."
I turned on the TV after that not really wanting to carry on the conversation, it's one thing to talk about it but it's a whole other thing to talk about it with your dog. I hated my job and this crappy little life, but it's what I was stuck to for now at least. The hardest part about wanting to be a wirter in the NY area is that another thousand people are thinking the same thing so I slumped down in the cushion and surfed the channels resigning to mediocrity.
"Come on buddy let's get a walk in!" Ralphy began insisting after a bit of pawing at my arm. He may only be a dog but there is something to be said about the thought that animals can pick up on emotions because he's pretty good at it. I got up and grabbed his leash, hooking him up, and headed out the door.
"Oh boy a walk a walk a walk!!" he was like a kid waking up on Christmas but I noticed he got a lot quieter when he heard a door open so I looked over to investigate. Ashlyn had walked out of the door, dressed up for something. Ralphy began asking who it was but I nudged him to shut up quickly. I still wasn't quite sure if others heard him but I didn't want to seem crazy talking to a dog.
"Oh hey! Is that your dog?" Ashlyn asked as she approached noticing Ralphy before me, how lucky, and the smug SOB wagged his tail when she patted him and smirked up at me.
"Uhh yeah Ralphy, he's about 3 years old." I smiled watching her. "So uh what are you all dressed up for?"
"It's nothing," she giggled blushing a bit, "just a silly date."
My heart sank and Ralphy lost that smug little grin as we both knew how much this sucked for me. We exchanged a few more pleasantries before she rushed off and we stood there in silence.
"I'm sorry man...betcha the guys a douche anyways." Ralphy finally spoke up to break the ice.
"Yeah that seems to be how it goes." I smiled half-heartedly before my hand was tugged, "What are you doing?"
"Well just cause you're pissy doesn't mean we aren't having a walk come on!" he pulled me towards the elevator and we left. I may not have the girl or the job yet but for now at least I have Ralphy.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Screaming Bloody Murder
Months of meticulous and precise practice and implementation I think I've finally figured out a way to capture and kill the killer known as 'Herco'. Now my methods may not have been all that ethical or wise, in that I've become somewhat of a serial killer myself, but it is through this method acting and investigation that I know all of his tendencies and all the clever little quirks that make him tick. You see he likes to toy with victims first, but he is prone to pragmatic and over-the-top speeches straight out of a has-been's acting career. For him it wasn't about the kill, it was about the theatrics and I planned on exploiting this window by baiting him. It was quite difficult to get someone willing to try this but through what I like to call innocuous omission, since lying is such a harsh word, I will have a 'friend' abducted except they have no idea that I'm leading them straight to Herco. The thing is that like Herco I want the show to be perfect and if the person gives any inkling of being a mere set up then the whole thing is screwed up. Let's get going though, tonight's the night and while I'm not particularly proud of the preceding events sometimes you just gotta break a few eggs to get an omelet ya know?
"And Welcome to!...the theater!" Herco bellows out like a cartoon villain, this guy is such a hack, pardon the phrase. His 'lair' is an old abandoned theater downtown that was vacated in the twenties. He has done some renovations over the years now seeing as it has a full lighting and everything. Herco straps his victims down in the front row while he parades across the stage doing a monologue of how he is helping the theater and people aren't ready for his art yet. I've carefully positioned myself atop the scaffolding where the curtains are hung and awaited the perfect time to launch. It was easy to tell when he began to near the end though, his breaths were shortened and his gestures more grand. With the amount of time all of his prep work took he might as well just kill his victims with boredom, damn near killed me that way tonight but now is not the time for whimsical jokes I'm closing in on the opportunity. However, in a move I didn't prepare for as he went to the side of the stage he pulled hard on the curtain bring down the railing and me with it. I coughed heavily trying to catch my breath, damned shoddy construction, and soon he was towering above me.
"You really thought you could catch and kill Herco?" he smiled, I never noticed how thick his Russian accent was until I really heard him talk. He then muttered something about me not being ready for his work and thankfully because of research I knew his plan was to mercilessly beat my face in. Herco liked to doll out punishment based on their quality as an "audience" better people got a more artsy finish...others were simply pummeled. So, when he drew an arm back to deliver the blow I rolled back getting to my feet pulling out the knife I had brought, so much for a simple kill. Herco was surprisingly mobile even being slighter larger and a bit older than I he kept up well. Unfortunately our battle turned into a tiring back and forth as we both bobbed and weaved appropriately and I was quickly losing interest. At one point I called a quick stop and tried to call a truce, I was answered with a quick jab to the temple and a even quicker fall to the floor. Well, it was over for me and I awoke a few hours later strapped in with a few new victims and pain in my legs and arms. I looked at my legs and arms, Herco had turned me and the others into marionettes and the tendons were slashed preventing us from moving. However there was no pain, each of us had gotten a pretty good dose of morphine because you can't have your puppets screaming bloody murder during the show after all. It looks like I'm now worthy of the artsy kill after all, which meant the surprisingly strong Herco would dance us around weapons super-glued into our hands reenacting famous death scenes. I get to be Claudius from Hamlet, lucky me.
"And Welcome to!...the theater!" Herco bellows out like a cartoon villain, this guy is such a hack, pardon the phrase. His 'lair' is an old abandoned theater downtown that was vacated in the twenties. He has done some renovations over the years now seeing as it has a full lighting and everything. Herco straps his victims down in the front row while he parades across the stage doing a monologue of how he is helping the theater and people aren't ready for his art yet. I've carefully positioned myself atop the scaffolding where the curtains are hung and awaited the perfect time to launch. It was easy to tell when he began to near the end though, his breaths were shortened and his gestures more grand. With the amount of time all of his prep work took he might as well just kill his victims with boredom, damn near killed me that way tonight but now is not the time for whimsical jokes I'm closing in on the opportunity. However, in a move I didn't prepare for as he went to the side of the stage he pulled hard on the curtain bring down the railing and me with it. I coughed heavily trying to catch my breath, damned shoddy construction, and soon he was towering above me.
"You really thought you could catch and kill Herco?" he smiled, I never noticed how thick his Russian accent was until I really heard him talk. He then muttered something about me not being ready for his work and thankfully because of research I knew his plan was to mercilessly beat my face in. Herco liked to doll out punishment based on their quality as an "audience" better people got a more artsy finish...others were simply pummeled. So, when he drew an arm back to deliver the blow I rolled back getting to my feet pulling out the knife I had brought, so much for a simple kill. Herco was surprisingly mobile even being slighter larger and a bit older than I he kept up well. Unfortunately our battle turned into a tiring back and forth as we both bobbed and weaved appropriately and I was quickly losing interest. At one point I called a quick stop and tried to call a truce, I was answered with a quick jab to the temple and a even quicker fall to the floor. Well, it was over for me and I awoke a few hours later strapped in with a few new victims and pain in my legs and arms. I looked at my legs and arms, Herco had turned me and the others into marionettes and the tendons were slashed preventing us from moving. However there was no pain, each of us had gotten a pretty good dose of morphine because you can't have your puppets screaming bloody murder during the show after all. It looks like I'm now worthy of the artsy kill after all, which meant the surprisingly strong Herco would dance us around weapons super-glued into our hands reenacting famous death scenes. I get to be Claudius from Hamlet, lucky me.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
The River Runs Black
The clock is flashing 2 A.M. Everything feels...numb. I can feel my head throb, but it doesn't hurt it just pulsates in a slow melodic rhythm. I flexed my hands staring at them...so close to me yet it seemed as though I was looking at them backwards through a pair of binoculars. Soon I noticed flecks of red on my hands and then the pain rushed in and I was flooded with flashes of color and fast-paced images running past my eyes. None of these pictures made any sense and the accompanying screams only further muddied my fractured psyche. I need coffee or basically anything to try and clear my head but when I went to stand up my foot slipped in what appeared to be blood. I caught myself before hitting the floor and still went down onto one new to investigate this fluid. It didn't take long to figure out it was in fact blood and it was all over my room, walls and all. The strange thing was that some of it seemed dry and coagulated meaning it was old, but other spots were more fresh. My real question was to whom this blood belonged, it didn't seem to be mine or at least not all of it. There were no apparent cuts or scrapes on my body so just what the hell had happened?
Flashback to this morning, maybe I can recall something if I retrace my steps. Think...Think. I awoke like any other morning, today is...is..Saturday so that means... Dammit think! Rene was cooking breakfast that's right! Something seemed off though she...she didn't have the same spark in her blue-grey eyes. The shine was gone, she seemed so cold and distant. I clutched my head as another surge of pain hit and I remembered holding her cold body in my arms...my God what happened? Back to the morning, nothing unusual except for her attitude. And her hand...something about her hand. I stumbled into the kitchen hoping to spur more memories. When I entered the kitchen it seemed in order, blood free except for the faint footprint trail. I scanned the area peering into the living room. The living room there was...something that happened. It was loud, was it our movie? No, it was another romantic comedy she had picked out. So, why was it so loud?
I slowly made my way over to the living room tracing my finger along the marble counter-tops. That's when I cam across the ring, her engagement ring that's what was missing from her finger this morning. Now there were more flashes, but no images this time just flashes of red and white with sounds of smashing glass and vases mixed in intermittently. Were we robbed or assaulted at something? Why can't I remember?! I'm not getting any inklings of an attack...did I fight with Rene? Maybe that's why she was cold this morning, we had a fight last night about...about something inane and pointless. But we still shared the same bed, it couldn't have been that bad. I still remember how well her body felt curled up next to mine, how soft her hair felt...I thought we had made up...I thought everything was OK that night. Why isn't everything right tonight? Why is she apparently dead? I couldn't stand being inside anymore everything inside of it began to repulse me and I ran outside inhaling deeply as if I had just surfaced from water. Water...water..the river outside our home there was something there. The walk wasn't that far, but the staggered steps hindered me quite a bit as more pictures violated my eyes.
The pictures began to piece together what had happened to Rene. There were walls splashed with phrases and blood "She's mine" and "Never leave" painted the rooms...all written in blood. Was that me? Or...was it maybe a jealous ex or spurned lover? It couldn't have been me...I loved her, I was set to marry her. She was so beautiful and perfect I couldn't have done this. Or at least so I thought until I reached the river and fell to my knees. There she was face down in the river, cold and blue and her hair was dirtied and dampened clinging to her pale skin. I crawled over to her and stopped beside Rene able to do nothing but weep. I rolled her over and pulled her onto my lap, cradling her head in my arms. Her mouth was open and her face distorted, all her blood drained out. I wanted to scream but no sound came out and I simply looked up at the sky pleading the I be taken next. I started to feel weak again, the breath escaping out of my lungs as I collapsed over and my vision began fading again. Before I was gone completely, the river beside us began to shift and churn changing to a dark, sinister black and a form beside me appeared. This creature looked like...like myself but dark...maybe...maybe it was me all along.
Flashback to this morning, maybe I can recall something if I retrace my steps. Think...Think. I awoke like any other morning, today is...is..Saturday so that means... Dammit think! Rene was cooking breakfast that's right! Something seemed off though she...she didn't have the same spark in her blue-grey eyes. The shine was gone, she seemed so cold and distant. I clutched my head as another surge of pain hit and I remembered holding her cold body in my arms...my God what happened? Back to the morning, nothing unusual except for her attitude. And her hand...something about her hand. I stumbled into the kitchen hoping to spur more memories. When I entered the kitchen it seemed in order, blood free except for the faint footprint trail. I scanned the area peering into the living room. The living room there was...something that happened. It was loud, was it our movie? No, it was another romantic comedy she had picked out. So, why was it so loud?
I slowly made my way over to the living room tracing my finger along the marble counter-tops. That's when I cam across the ring, her engagement ring that's what was missing from her finger this morning. Now there were more flashes, but no images this time just flashes of red and white with sounds of smashing glass and vases mixed in intermittently. Were we robbed or assaulted at something? Why can't I remember?! I'm not getting any inklings of an attack...did I fight with Rene? Maybe that's why she was cold this morning, we had a fight last night about...about something inane and pointless. But we still shared the same bed, it couldn't have been that bad. I still remember how well her body felt curled up next to mine, how soft her hair felt...I thought we had made up...I thought everything was OK that night. Why isn't everything right tonight? Why is she apparently dead? I couldn't stand being inside anymore everything inside of it began to repulse me and I ran outside inhaling deeply as if I had just surfaced from water. Water...water..the river outside our home there was something there. The walk wasn't that far, but the staggered steps hindered me quite a bit as more pictures violated my eyes.
The pictures began to piece together what had happened to Rene. There were walls splashed with phrases and blood "She's mine" and "Never leave" painted the rooms...all written in blood. Was that me? Or...was it maybe a jealous ex or spurned lover? It couldn't have been me...I loved her, I was set to marry her. She was so beautiful and perfect I couldn't have done this. Or at least so I thought until I reached the river and fell to my knees. There she was face down in the river, cold and blue and her hair was dirtied and dampened clinging to her pale skin. I crawled over to her and stopped beside Rene able to do nothing but weep. I rolled her over and pulled her onto my lap, cradling her head in my arms. Her mouth was open and her face distorted, all her blood drained out. I wanted to scream but no sound came out and I simply looked up at the sky pleading the I be taken next. I started to feel weak again, the breath escaping out of my lungs as I collapsed over and my vision began fading again. Before I was gone completely, the river beside us began to shift and churn changing to a dark, sinister black and a form beside me appeared. This creature looked like...like myself but dark...maybe...maybe it was me all along.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)