This was it. His mind made up, every possible question asked and answered in his own mind a hundred, a thousand times over. There was no turning back now, it was just a matter of the right spot. Point A to Point B: easier said than done. He had to keep reminding himself, left, right, left, right, one foot in front of the other, pace yourself. Inhale, exhale. This limbo between decision and action was almost literally killing him, but he could not let her see this. He stared down at the ground, looking up only to redirect them when the path split.

It was as if he were on autopilot. A fork here, left. A fork there, right. What did it matter? Every choice he made would lead to the same ending. For the first time in his life, every choice he was making felt like the right one. He felt confident, absolute, invincible. Each time he paused, he heard the rapid-fire of crackling and snapping of twigs behind him; her way of trying to compensate for her significantly shorter stride. How he wanted to turn back, to look into her eyes, offer his hand or a reassuring smile. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t look her in the face and risk letting her see the truth in his eyes, no this would be too risky. He felt that he might break, lose control, take her into his arms and throw the whole plan to the wind. No. He had to remind himself that could let her catch up physically, but on every other level he knew that they could never truly be together. Every step she took that brought her closer on this very path just served as a reminder of the distance between them otherwise. They could never be one, atleast not in this life. Left, right, left, right.

The forest became more dense. The hurried steps behind him grew increasingly more frantic sounding. Dear God, please let her forgive me. He knew the time was near. Soon, she would start asking questions. Slipping, losing control over his patient, calculated strides, he begins to hurry. And there it was. He stopped short at the edge of the clearing, one of several that they had been too before. This happened to be the one overlooking the campus. How deceptively peaceful it was, the sun beginning its descent into the horizon and the breeze barely there, just gentle enough to cool the humidity and dry his dampened skin. He suddenly felt refreshed, more alive than he had in years, perhaps since the first time they met. Then, a flash of hatred toward her for this. Or maybe it was love. Either way, his pulse quickened.

The sounds of her footsteps growing closer, she calls out his name and awakens him from this daydream. He dashes back into the woods, on the opposite side of the clearing. He crouched, watched as she stepped out. She hesitated for a moment, looking confused and frightened. He briefly panicked, re-calculating how much of a struggle it might be to get her closer. God she is beautiful. For a split second his confidence faultered, but by some miracle she convinced herself to draw nearer to the cliff’s edge. He saw his opportunity.

He took a deep breath. There was no turning back now. Left, right, left, right, it was all alot quicker than he had imagined it. It was a matter of a few swift steps, eyes squeezed shut, a final embrace, and then … release. Total release. His eyes stayed shut as her body plummeted. There was no scream, almost as if she had expected it all along and he wasn’t sure if this disappointed him or not. He was numb, and while this did disappoint him, it was no surprise. Numb was the name of the game lately. Still with his eyelids clamped tight, he took his own last steps. Left, right, left, right. He opened them only when he finally stepped over the edge, his stare immediately finding and fixing on her bloody, broken body below.

And so he extended his arms, finally offering her his hand and that smile of reassurance. At last, they had finally reached one another, had finally found a place where they could become one.

Her smiles became frowns now and even tears as she struggled to pull herself through the thinning trail and thickening forest.  He couldn’t be seen anymore, but rather heard.  The sound of his boots across the large stones and the crunching brush beneath them. Then, silence.  She stopped and called out his name, silence.  She walked through the woods a bit more and came out onto the clearing.  The citrus sky from the setting sun lay across the horizon.  The trail came to a head and the edge of the cliff just past it.  Her undying fear of heights told her to keep away from it, but the sky and sight of the university in the distance below told her different.  It was a beautiful sight.  She soaked up the sunlight on the surface of her perfect face and her eyes released a few more tears.  Her thoughts focused on all the good times she had with him, was this it, the peak of there friendship?  Would it be all downhill from here?

She was disturbed by the sound of a man’s heavy breathing behind her.  She could feel his very essence only a few inches from her back and found a quick comfort by it.  He grabbed her in his arms and squeezed her tight right before releasing her off the side of the cliff.  His eyes were shut.  Her eyes opened wide as she realized what was happening.  A look of worry and infinite question as her body disappeared over the edge.  Her stomach in her throat at the realization that there was hundreds of feet between her and the rocks below.  Her gaze somehow pierced his eyelids and forced the muscles in the back to open.  He was required to watch. Her body crashed on the rocks below, but her soul endured.  Her end was not like how it was told in Hollywood.  There was no flashing of her life, or lessons learned, but a simple means to an end.  This wasn’t the life she was meant to live so she embraced the next one as she walked on streets paved with light.

news bulletin: 24 year old boy and girl found dead in ravine just outside upstate new york college campus.  investigation is currently underway and police are asking any witnesses to please come forward.  suicide has not been ruled out at this point.  in accordance with the families wishes names will not be released at this time.

From The Top: Part 2

Knights

The blood turned black and the snow soaked it up like a sponge.  The man continued to walk through the whipping winds towards a tall tower with purpose.  The world became fuzzy and seemed to skip around.  The bird in the distance appeared and reappeared.  Day turned to night and night to day as he no longer walked, but glided toward the frozen building.

Suddenly, he stood in front of a woman. A woman he knew all too well.  A woman he had made a promise to 24 years ago. It was the same room he had brought her into across the threshold in his arm.  Though, this time, they stood in a room covered in ice.  The walls, the bed, lamp, dresser and windows were all frozen over.  The room and the woman both filled with sadness.  The light barely squeezed through the cracks in the ice on the window.

“Darling, I have wronged you”, he said as he grabbed her arm.  His hand began to freeze.  He ripped his hand from her and watched it return to normal. “What the…?”

“You owe it all to me…a piece of you,” she grabs his hand and makes him watch as it freezes, “for a piece of me.” She finished as she takes her other hand and smashes his hand.

“No!” The man screams. “I know it was never the money that you wanted, let’s fix this.”  He looks deep into her ice blue eyes.  She grabs his other arm and makes him watch again as it turns into brittle human flesh.  He closes his eyes tight waiting for the crippling pain to take over him.

“You will watch!” she screamed.  The eyes that were an icy blew now glowed with the crimson red of the devil himself.  “A piece of you for a piece of me.” His eyes open and she smashed his arm on the nearby table.  The man bites his lip in agony. A tear crept out from his eye.  He began to slide down his face, but before it could fall off onto the floor is froze.

“Don’t cry, it’ll all be over soon and you can escape this nightmare,” his wife said to him.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked.

“All the lies, deceits, and horrible things you have done.  Each has taken a piece of our love with it.” She grabs his leg tightly.  “For each piece you have taken, I will take a piece of you.”  The man looks at his wife with remorse, but the cold in her heart makes her feel nothing.   With a swift motion of her leg she shatters his leg out from underneath him.

The man’s nerves have been stretched to their maximum and he looks at her as he rolls himself onto his back.  He eyes streaming with tears.  They hit the floor with the sound of small pins as they freeze through the arctic air.

She straddles his chest and puts her hands around his neck.  Slowly, his neck and head begin to freeze.  He begs for his life as she laughs at him one final time.

“A piece of you…” She slams her fist through his head.

The man awakens standing in a room covered in ice. A familiar figure stands in front of him smiling.  “…For a piece of me,” she says.  He lunges for her and takes her in his arms.

“Never again, we are even…never again.”

Part 4 – White Mystery

I’d like to know if anyone else has had any crazy dreams lately? Or even just find out what your craziest dream was.  Comment and let me know.  Let’s get the conversation rolling.

The picture alone is enough to keep you interested for more than a few moments.  Kristian Hammerstad has found his niche in the art world.  I’m not sure exactly what you call it, but its fantastic. He seems to have a fetish for the undead and luckily he found his audience…Me, and perhaps you as well.

I have found a real appreciation for art over the past few years.  Mainly the appreciation of art that pushes the envelope between socially appropriate and inappropriate..  Kristian expressed that in all of the works shown on the website.

Without a doubt you should be checking out his works.  Really an amazing artists with a great portfolio and resume.

She stood outside the coffee house confused at first.  It soon became clear what had happened.  She looked to her feet and saw the still smoking cigarette butt.  It was the same brand that he smoked.  A coffee cup still sat on the small wire table.  The cup had that warm feeling that had been rapidly cooled by the brisk temperatures.  A tear came to her eye.

*         *         *

She sat across from me smiling.  I was lost in her beauty.  Her lips moved, but made no noise.  It wasn’t just her beauty that caught me, but how she carried herself.  We sat in silence for several minutes talking only with our smiles and eyes.  It was as if we had already lived an entire life together.  She spun the wine glass upon the bottom rim and I followed it with my eyes.  She brought the glass to her face and looked up over the rim into my eyes.  I was lost in those crisp oaken eyes.

“Whatever I had before no longer matters,” He told her, “Something has happened inside of me.  Everything I have ever known about myself has been forgotten, manipulated by your essence and has transformed me into someone new.”

She smiled gently.

“I don’t know why or how, but I know that I don’t want to know.  I’ve never admitted to believing in fate, not until the first time I looked into your eyes.  Some things are best left unexplained.  Today I’m thankful for what is.”

She paused, “All I know is that, after today, I will never have to worry about being alone.”

She grabbed my hand.  Our fingers locked together passionately and, once again, there were no words, just raw emotion and the mannerisms did the talking.  We knew it was time to go and I stood up from my chair and guided her around the table with my hand and we walked out onto the sidewalk.  The sun was setting up the street from where we stood.

The red and orange sunset was a spotlight to our closing performance.  I grabbed her by the hand once more and pulled her tight. Our heads framed the setting sun.  We could no longer resist, our lips locked for the first time.  It was slow and moist.  When it was over our heads moved apart slowly and her eyes opened to my smile.

“I WILL see you tomorrow.”

I turned and released her hand and began to run across the street.

Her smile was struck with terror.  There wasn’t enough time to react.

My body crinkled along the front side of the oncoming compact car.  My body, lifeless before it hit the ground, and skidded across the road.

She ran to me and held his bloodied and mangled body in the middle of the street.  She couldn’t be controlled.  The free flowing tears consumed her sight and in a moment confessed her undying love for the man she had known, but for a few moments.

The sun crept off the street as it disappeared past the horizon leaving the us in the dusk.

Part 3: Feminine Omega

]]> http://tomshaggy.com/2009/11/chapter-omega/feed/ 1 http://tomshaggy.com/2009/10/tomorrow-a-mystery/ http://tomshaggy.com/2009/10/tomorrow-a-mystery/#comments Fri, 30 Oct 2009 05:37:36 +0000 Tom http://tomshaggy.com/?p=414 It was dusk.  The sky was an orangey glow and the air was still warm.  I stood and looked towards the horizon.  The sun did not move.  It would be dusk forever.  I was now looking at myself from behind standing atop the cobblestone walkway that overlooked the town.  Everything I was, and had become, had culminated to this day.  It would not end and I did not want it to.

I drifted higher above myself and still I stood.  Not a soul in sight could distract me from the endless beauty that had me fixated.  A cool breeze sent a shiver through me.  I could see my arms tense up around my torso, but my focus remained untainted.  The buildings surrounding me glow with the same citrus hues.

I rest myself upon the top of a building and watch.  A few people fill the streets. They look towards me in question. What does he love so much about his life?  The rays of sun light enter my eyeball and sprint down my optic nerve and slam onto my brain.  It’s rapture, like staring into happiness.

The streets clear once more and I am left standing alone once again.  The sun has crept a little closer to the earth.  It is silent. There is a breath of warm air on my neck. My eyes close and a feeling of relief comes over my body.

A swift slap to the back of my neck with a cold metal pipe separates the vertebrate and causing immediate paralysis.  My body collapses to the ground without a fight. There is no one around to witness it.  The dark figures run off into the evening with nothing off my body.

Just because.

The sun set slowly over the day.  My body still remained unclaimed by the world.  The life slips slowly from me.

This world isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.  Yesterday is history. Tomorrow, a mystery and today is a gift.  That is why it is called the present.

These are the words I that raced through my head while I stood staring at the microphone. The crowd of people in front of me whimpered to the absence of my words.  The glanced down at the casket below.  I started to relate my own life to my father’s. He had spent the majority of his life fighting with everyone over his own life that he never really had a chance to actually live it. The last few years were filled with fear and loathing by my brother and I. We resented my father for the choices he had made and his lack of desire to rectify those choices.

“Riding around in my battery powered Jeep Wrangler, with my brother at my side, was a regular thing. Dad would sit on the stone underneath, “The Big Tree,” with his them stylish haircut, and watch us cruise around the front lawn. I was five and my brother was three. Though we may have been children the Wrangler I was driving was made with 25 lbs of plastic and a rechargeable car battery, not the real thing. Those were the days. Though my memory may be a little shaky on the subject, due to my youth, it was the happiest of times with my father. Constant smiles and sobriety filled our daily activities.

I use the term sobriety because, as it turns out, my father was quite the drinker. And without glorifying it, he could run with the best of them. This may explain the sips of beer we would get as children. Now I know what many of you are thinking. What kind of parent gives their child alcohol this day in age? Well, boys and girls, ladies and gentlemen, times have changed. So much in fact, those parents can no longer raise a hand to their children without someone filing a lawsuit or calling child services. My brother and I were never damaged from this “treatment,” we always thought we were a little bit cooler when he’d let has have that last, backwash filled, sip of beer.

“We end one era and continue with another.  None of us will ever forget what I great man he was and the hard times that he endured.  The walks he took along the same road over and over again to visit my mother.  The countless number of red roses he left her. We love you Old Man.”

I descended from the podium and with “the” rainbow bag and placed it into the coffin.  Mom and Dad could finally be together at last.  I reached into my pocket and pulled the last pack of cigarettes that my father bought and placed it in his hands.  He never knew where he was going without one.

“Now you know where you are going.”

Prequel: Old Man and the Cigarette

He was face down on the bed.

“Where is everyone?” The young man walked around the room grabbing different pieces of clothing off the floor.  A tattered pair of blue jeans, a blue and white stripped button-up shirt and fitted baseball cap. He sat on the edge of his bed and tied up his new, but worn sneakers.

The sun has long since set.  The feeling of deep loneliness crept into his body as he approached the door.  There was someone in the house and he knew it.  He could feel their presence.  That dark foreboding one gets when they are alone at night.  A small light lit the hallway just outside the man’s door.  Peering around the corner he still couldn’t see anyone.  Suddenly a shadow crossed a light on the steps at the end of hall.

The man backed into the wall.  His breathing had increased and he looked around the room for something to defend himself with.  A switch blade lay on his night stand.  He clicked it open and readied it by his side.  The figure had now moved closer and he could practically hear their breathing patterns.

A shadow crossed the near light directly outside the door. The man bolted out driving the knife into the neck of the stranger.  His eyes widened with regret.

“No!” The young man yelled as he guided the body to the floor.

The woman grabbed her neck trying to stop the bleeding on her own.  She gagged on her own blood as she began to speak.

“They are after it…they are…com…in…g fo…r you.”

“No, Sandra, no! Oh my god what have I done?” He grabs a shirt from his floor and puts pressure on the wound.

“You ha..ve to li…ste..n.  They are coming for the ring,” she pauses as the blood pool around them.

“What are you talking about? What about the ring?”

She lets out a violent cough.  “The ring activates The Basement.  Remember where we would play as kids? Across the field…”

“Yes, what about it? What are you talking about?”

“You need to go there and activate the Coat of Arms.  Save yourself.  Place the ring in the center and turn the Coat of Arms clockwise.”

“What is there? What is going to happen?”

“You need to go now.  I love you Connor.” She kisses him good bye. They lock lips for only a few moments until her body falls lifeless to the floor.

“No, no, no, no oh please God, no!”  He holds her tight for the last time as the sound of a broken window comes from the first floor.  The sound of a half dozen men fills the house, broken glass under their feet and splintering wood alerts Connor.

Connor kisses ever so gently on the forehead for the last time.  He turns to see the shadows in the hallway approach the room.  He darts out the window and runs to the edge of the porch roof and slides down the scaffolding.  Sprinting as fast as he can, he disappears underneath the cover of the dark forest surrounding his house.  The dark figures enter the room with their semi-automatic machine guns locked and loaded.  They clear the room and stand around the body of the dead girl.

“The boy is gone sir, she must have alerted him that we were coming.”

“I, see.” A tall elderly looking man enters the room wearing a grey pin-striped suit. “He is gone now, clean it all up.”

Connor continues to sprint through the deep dark forest, tears streaming down his cheek.  He appears on the other side of the forest at the top of field.  The moon hangs over the apex of the hill lighting the area.  He wipes his eyes and trots to the top of the hill.  A cement slab marks the entrance.  Connor pulls back the iron door and slides down onto the carved granite staircase.  It was dark and musty.  No one had been into The Basement for some time.  There was a small window built into the side of the hill that let in some of the moon light in.  Connor looked around for the Coat of Arms and slowly approached it.  There were several markings surrounded the large iron object.  None of the marking meant anything to Connor, but he took the ring from his finger and looked at it.  He could only think of Sandra dying in his arms.  “Put the ring in the center and turn the Coat of Arms clockwise.” His fingers trembled as he fit the ring into the center.  The Basement began to shake and the floor lit up from below.  Grabbing the outsides of the Coat of Arms he spun it slowly.  The light got brighter until it eventually blinded him.  He shut his eyes tightly and turned the Coat farther until it clicked down into place.  Conner hit the floor unconscious.

The sun beat down onto the corn field.  The day was dry and the wind blew the dust around until the limp lifeless body laying face down among the corn.  There world was silent and only the sound of the rustling corn filled the air.

Connor woke up with his face in the dirt.  He stretched his limbs and gathered himself to his feet.  He looked around to get his barrings.  The last thing he remembered was the intense light in The Basement and then passing out.  He ran over to the entrance to The Basement and descended into its bowels.

“What the hell happened?”

It looked as though nothing had happened.  He ran to the Coat of Arms.  He looked to the floor and saw the ring laying on the ground.  He picked it up and put it back on his finger.  He ascended the stairs to the outside.  He opened the iron door and looked towards the middle distance.

There was a large screen with grand speakers at the top broadcasting a young man in a uniform.  There was sound, but the message repeated itself.  Connor watched the screen that had been constructed on a hill that was damaged by some type of explosion.  The only thing he could make out on the screen was the name tag on his uniform, “Jayden.”

“You aren’t from around here are you?”  Connor felt the cold tip of a rifle at his back. “Turn around slowly.”

The man was holding a WWII M1 Garand.  He lowered his weapon in awe, “Welcome back, sir.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’ve been waiting for you.”  The man replied. “This indeed you isn’t it?”  The man pulled a old photo from his pocket and gave it to Connor.  At first he could not, believe his eyes.  He turned over the picture.  In his handwriting it read, “To my love  Sandra, Love, Connor.

“Welcome to 1945 sir.”  Connor’s face went blank.