Be gentle, I love this story I've written. Well, hate to love or love to hate it, I'm not sure yet. Be warned though, I think it's a bit sad, and a bit gruesome. ^.^ And before you say it has holes in it, I know. It's a work in progress, hell I've gone through five titles already. xD
Some music to set the mood:
Destruction, once more.
Taken hostage by the ever lasting, ever horrifying moment he can't escape; will never escape. He drowned himself in another bottle of Skol, it was cheap and he was broke. His beard would probably be the first thing you noticed about him. Well, after the smell of booze that is. He wore rags. His hair was unsettled. He hadn't the money to pay for his tab, let alone clothes. His car was now home, probably soon to be repossessed though. His facilities were whichever gas station bathroom didn't have you buy something in the store before use.
That day was like the rest, lovely, a gift really, but now that day was a curse. Something no man should live with, something that tears your very soul out and throws it into the fires of the sun.
He got off the bus with a skip in his step. Always cheerful, this child, always optimistic, even in classes he was a radiant beam from the sun. She greeted him with a smile like she always had. They started their journey home, just fifty yards, three of road, the rest of field. The greenest grass a man could ever wish to mow. They held hands and pursued the first step.
The sound was that of tires tearing at the road, the engine bellowing at the tires to go faster and the tires screaming in rebellion. But the truck pushed on. Faster and faster up the hill. Towards the two most cherished things in the mans life. He heard the truck. Yelled. Then screamed for it not to be true. The smile on the mothers face could bring the dead back to life it was so beautiful. But if only she had looked through a mirror the father wouldn't be where he was now. His body ran faster than he thought possible, his mind couldn't possibly keep up. He screamed louder and louder but it was wild and incomprehensible. The mother didn't know what to make of it. She turned.
Death stole her and the boy. Silence stole the father. He ran harder and faster but they were miles away it seemed. The agony he felt was more than an army could comprehend. It was acid through his veins.
They were barely breathing when he got to them. The father crumpled, conformed to their positions. Carefully pulling them closer, tears started to come to him like they had never before. His senses went into denial, he didn't want to see them like this. He was blinded. He didn't want to smell the burning rubber from the tires. The scent was robbed from him. He felt a puddle growing around him. He could no longer feel the warm touch of the earth or the blood. "Honey, it'll be ok". She spoke quieter than any mouse, softer than any feather. Permafrost gripped his very soul as he knew this may be their last moments together. He didn't want to hear her last words, not like this, not yet. The idea that they still had years to go was fleeing his mind, he grasped for it like a drowning man would air. "It isn't your fault". She spoke again. "Is he-". she looked to the boy. This time a little more raspy. The boy hadn't spoken. The father leaned closer to him hoping for anything. He was already gone. He hadn't gotten to him in time. The tears started to pour harder and faster. He felt nothing. He saw nothing. He heard nothing. He was deaf dumb and blind wondering in hell.
He looked to the truck. The source of his pain. The driver was fiddling with something in the passenger seat. A flurry of movements trying to hide his reason for hitting the mother and child. The father took his shirt from his back, gently rested it under the mother's head. His chest stomach and back were chiseled in marble, his mind long gone. He didn't hear his wife's attempt at denying his movements. He moved to the door of the truck quicker than lightning strikes the earth. He threw the driver out of the car and onto the moist pavement. The father noticed the empty cans on the floorboard on the passenger's side. His rage grew to new heights. The driver had no time to react, the father was on top of him. He pummeled the driver, using every bit of strength he could muster. He first smashed his legs so he couldn't run. He then turned to the drivers face. The sound was similar to that of bowling balls dropping in a pool. With each blow the driver was less recognizable, his face swollen and bloodied. The father couldn't feel his broken knuckles from bashing the drivers skull, he couldn't feel the torn skin on his hands from the drivers broken teeth. The driver wheezed after every blow. The father was drenched with a mix of blood tears and sweat. The mother screamed for him to stop but her voice would only let a whisper escape. He heard his wife's testimony to his feral beating. He froze, turned to her, she was crying. He paused his onslaught. He crawled back to his wife and child. "I'm so, so sorry-". She hushed his apology. With her last breathe she said the last three words he wanted to hear, "I love you."
"C-c-come back over here f-f-****er." The drivers words were barely audible, let alone understandable through his shattered teeth, bitten through tongue, and broken jaw. His s's turned to th's. "Finnnnith what y-y-you thtarted", he said with a wheeze. The father turned to his wasted foe. "You." Is all he could say through his tears. His eyes were black with malice. His mind returned to the primal and medieval rage once more. "God bless my detestable soul." The driver spoke again. The father moved, standing over the driver now. "No." He looked up to the sky, as if he were searching. "No, if a god existed, he wouldn't let such things happen. There is no god in this world." He forsook his beliefs. He forsook the world he lives in. "Lost in this world are we. Us wretched souls, we fight for what we believe, but what may I ask, do we do when all we hold to be true and noble and beloved is destroyed? For this, there is no reasonable answer. You have taken from me what I love, for this.." He stopped, looking down at the despicable sight of the driver, he pitied his existence. "For this, I take your life, and for this, I take your soul to me with hell. If there is such a place."
"No... Please..." These were the driver's last words. The father slammed his knee into the bastard's chest. He felt the mans ribs and sternum crunch, his heart squish, and his last breath leave him. The driver was no more.
I hope you guys enjoyed it. ^.^
Again, be gentle in your CnC.
Some music to set the mood:
Destruction, once more.
Taken hostage by the ever lasting, ever horrifying moment he can't escape; will never escape. He drowned himself in another bottle of Skol, it was cheap and he was broke. His beard would probably be the first thing you noticed about him. Well, after the smell of booze that is. He wore rags. His hair was unsettled. He hadn't the money to pay for his tab, let alone clothes. His car was now home, probably soon to be repossessed though. His facilities were whichever gas station bathroom didn't have you buy something in the store before use.
That day was like the rest, lovely, a gift really, but now that day was a curse. Something no man should live with, something that tears your very soul out and throws it into the fires of the sun.
He got off the bus with a skip in his step. Always cheerful, this child, always optimistic, even in classes he was a radiant beam from the sun. She greeted him with a smile like she always had. They started their journey home, just fifty yards, three of road, the rest of field. The greenest grass a man could ever wish to mow. They held hands and pursued the first step.
The sound was that of tires tearing at the road, the engine bellowing at the tires to go faster and the tires screaming in rebellion. But the truck pushed on. Faster and faster up the hill. Towards the two most cherished things in the mans life. He heard the truck. Yelled. Then screamed for it not to be true. The smile on the mothers face could bring the dead back to life it was so beautiful. But if only she had looked through a mirror the father wouldn't be where he was now. His body ran faster than he thought possible, his mind couldn't possibly keep up. He screamed louder and louder but it was wild and incomprehensible. The mother didn't know what to make of it. She turned.
Death stole her and the boy. Silence stole the father. He ran harder and faster but they were miles away it seemed. The agony he felt was more than an army could comprehend. It was acid through his veins.
They were barely breathing when he got to them. The father crumpled, conformed to their positions. Carefully pulling them closer, tears started to come to him like they had never before. His senses went into denial, he didn't want to see them like this. He was blinded. He didn't want to smell the burning rubber from the tires. The scent was robbed from him. He felt a puddle growing around him. He could no longer feel the warm touch of the earth or the blood. "Honey, it'll be ok". She spoke quieter than any mouse, softer than any feather. Permafrost gripped his very soul as he knew this may be their last moments together. He didn't want to hear her last words, not like this, not yet. The idea that they still had years to go was fleeing his mind, he grasped for it like a drowning man would air. "It isn't your fault". She spoke again. "Is he-". she looked to the boy. This time a little more raspy. The boy hadn't spoken. The father leaned closer to him hoping for anything. He was already gone. He hadn't gotten to him in time. The tears started to pour harder and faster. He felt nothing. He saw nothing. He heard nothing. He was deaf dumb and blind wondering in hell.
He looked to the truck. The source of his pain. The driver was fiddling with something in the passenger seat. A flurry of movements trying to hide his reason for hitting the mother and child. The father took his shirt from his back, gently rested it under the mother's head. His chest stomach and back were chiseled in marble, his mind long gone. He didn't hear his wife's attempt at denying his movements. He moved to the door of the truck quicker than lightning strikes the earth. He threw the driver out of the car and onto the moist pavement. The father noticed the empty cans on the floorboard on the passenger's side. His rage grew to new heights. The driver had no time to react, the father was on top of him. He pummeled the driver, using every bit of strength he could muster. He first smashed his legs so he couldn't run. He then turned to the drivers face. The sound was similar to that of bowling balls dropping in a pool. With each blow the driver was less recognizable, his face swollen and bloodied. The father couldn't feel his broken knuckles from bashing the drivers skull, he couldn't feel the torn skin on his hands from the drivers broken teeth. The driver wheezed after every blow. The father was drenched with a mix of blood tears and sweat. The mother screamed for him to stop but her voice would only let a whisper escape. He heard his wife's testimony to his feral beating. He froze, turned to her, she was crying. He paused his onslaught. He crawled back to his wife and child. "I'm so, so sorry-". She hushed his apology. With her last breathe she said the last three words he wanted to hear, "I love you."
"C-c-come back over here f-f-****er." The drivers words were barely audible, let alone understandable through his shattered teeth, bitten through tongue, and broken jaw. His s's turned to th's. "Finnnnith what y-y-you thtarted", he said with a wheeze. The father turned to his wasted foe. "You." Is all he could say through his tears. His eyes were black with malice. His mind returned to the primal and medieval rage once more. "God bless my detestable soul." The driver spoke again. The father moved, standing over the driver now. "No." He looked up to the sky, as if he were searching. "No, if a god existed, he wouldn't let such things happen. There is no god in this world." He forsook his beliefs. He forsook the world he lives in. "Lost in this world are we. Us wretched souls, we fight for what we believe, but what may I ask, do we do when all we hold to be true and noble and beloved is destroyed? For this, there is no reasonable answer. You have taken from me what I love, for this.." He stopped, looking down at the despicable sight of the driver, he pitied his existence. "For this, I take your life, and for this, I take your soul to me with hell. If there is such a place."
"No... Please..." These were the driver's last words. The father slammed his knee into the bastard's chest. He felt the mans ribs and sternum crunch, his heart squish, and his last breath leave him. The driver was no more.
I hope you guys enjoyed it. ^.^
Again, be gentle in your CnC.
