1A Hawk's Eye View : Hello, Sorry I haven't been posting. I had this great idea for a story and well, here it is. Enjoy!
ADarkEveryday
Distinguish the Facts
Unless there's nothing to Distinguish
Then you can explode
Like the Guy with the Face
"Oh, my it's dark out here, let me find a light. I don't keep enough lights in here. Ah, here we go. You have come here, for me? Yes? That I assumed. No one enters my home anymore, nor would anyone figure there was any inhabitance here. Please, sit down, I must find myself a chair.
"If I may ask, it is past midnight, what is your purpose? You've come on behalf the town? Pathetic, this town does not need my help they-
"Wait, Selia? She? No… You wish to understand me, because Selia sent you? Under command or privilege? So you want to hear my story, so that Selia can come back to me? I guess…I have no choice.
"So be it mortal, I'll share with you my life."
The old bag scrambles among the drawer imbedded in the desk he sits at, his hands shaking and heart beating fast. It seems that the name "Selia" has shaken him. His arm ascends and the object that ascends in his bony hands is a candle. He sets the candle carefully onto the table, to the left of his self. He pulls out a lighter, the pattern of the lighter is not distinguishable, but it seems to be black. With a quick, flick of his finger a small flame immerses from the tip of the lighter. For an old bag, his movements are quite fast and proficient. The candle lights briefly, and after a short moment, the flame dies down a bit and stays its preceding height as it moves in the close to none currents of wind, most likely, breathing.
The old bag coughs for a second, releasing the snot from his torn throat.
"I shall start you off, back in 2007, 20 years ago. Where the drug trade wasn't as vital to our lives and oil is not a struggle to survive. Ha," He grinned a second and continued. "When god wasn't the reason people killed each other to the point where everyone had their own gods."
"Oh my, it was here, November of 2007…"
The sun had just newly risen, the window that laid next to him was bright with the sun's light. Little Bobby awoke with a long yawn and a smile, as his bright happy mood made the bird's sing a song that brightened everyone's mood. Little Bobby's Mommy came into his room with a plate of eggs and toast, toasted to perfection.
Bobby told his Mommy "Thank you" with a smile and quickly ate his good like a good little boy. He put his plate on his table next to his bed where his alarm was dormant for the time being. At that very instant it turned on and Little Bobby's favorite song appeared on the radio.
Bobby looked at the clock and said "Wow! It's Time for school." After Little Bobby's enthusiastic out burst he changed his clothes and put on a smile for the day. He made sure his backpack was ready to go for school and his pencil was sharpened.
He put on his Nike sneakers which his Mommy bought for him to show off to the other kids. He then fitted his winter jacket on so he wouldn't get cold which as bright green with orange lining. Green was his favorite color in the whole wide world.
Once he quickly zipped up his jacket he took hs backpack and threw it over his back swiftly and felt proud that he, Bobby, was going to make his Mommy proud when he came home from school to bake cookies.
Once Bobby was ready he stepped out of his door and walked down the hall. He stopped to see his Mommy, gave her a kiss and said "I love you, Mommy, see you after school!" His Mommy waved to him and he skipped out the door into the chilly autumn air.
Bobby, while waiting for his bus took out his baseball his Daddy bought him and threw it in the air to catch it, as he smiled because every time he threw it, he caught it!
Bobby threw his ball into the air one more time and he missed it as it rolled into the street. Bobby carefully walked into the street quickly to get his baseball and then…Bobby looked up.
A 19 year old man, dressed all in black, Tripp pants with 5 chains of skulls and crosses hanging from them, a trench coat with multiple rings falling from it, gloves with the quote "Satan is my Death Hero" sewed on them, eyeliner so thick his eye was nearly visible, his nails blacker than the eclipse and black lipstick on that would stain his lips forever, maybe longer, opened his front door and walked out.
He carried a crucifix the size of a computer monitor and a little doll on one hand, and a chainsaw in the other. He threw the crucifix onto the ground and stuck the doll onto the crucifix with small nails latched into the crucifix already with blood dripping endlessly form the crucifix already, which was easily noticeable a while away. He then quickly pulled the knob on the chainsaw and revved it to full speed. He then lifted the deadly chainsaw above his head, ready to destroy the doll and the turned his head to Little Bobby standing innocently in the road, staring at him.
The man turned off his chainsaw and placed it to the ground, next to the crucifix. He waved at Little Bobby, and all that Bobby could do was stare. It was as if he was frozen there forever.
Suddenly the man said,"Hello, Bob! Goin' to school right?"
Bobby stood there, not moving and inch or talking. Maybe not even breathing.
He spoke again, "Bobby? Bob? Hello?"
Bobby stood there. Bobby then dropped his baseball again, which laid at his feet now. He looked down to it and didn't move at all. He then looked back up at the man and looked down.
The man spoke yet again, "Uhm, Bobby, could you get out of the road?"
Bobby didn't move, but in the distance a bus could he heard moving quickly to Bobby's happy home. Bobby's street was a blind drive street. But the sound of the bus got closer.
The man said a few final words, "Bobby! Get out of the road damn it!" He saw the bus turn the street, and as the driver could spot Bobby, he honked his horn, he couldn't stop so soon. Booby kneeled down to pick up his ball and the bus got within 20 feet of him. Bobby looked back up to the man and frowned, he mouthed something that sounded looked like, "Please, Jesus" but I could be wrong.
One minute later, good ol' Happy Little Bobby Sanarkins became the newly called Bobby Grill Stain. But who was to blame but the guy next door, mutilating a doll because it seemed like a good idea, who was now in the psychiatric police department explaining what happened while Bobby became best friends with the front of the bus.
"Mr. Devim, or should I say Rick, you're the only one to blame to the accident today. I mean the boy didn't just stop and look at you? He's not stupid."
Rick turned around and looked the officer in the eye, "Well, apparently he was that stupid."
"This is no joke Mr. Devim, someone must be to blame for this, and what were you doing with a crucifix and a bloody doll in your front yard?"
Rick grinned a bit, "I could tell you it speaks to me, but I'd sound crazy. But, it speaks to me, so I had to crucify it so it will stop talking or I was in the mood for a nice good crusification. I'd let you choose but you'd lock me up. So, I just wanted the damned thing to die. "
"Mr. Devim you can leave, we'll have you reappointed for another meeting and prepare to have the truth ready." The interrogator pointed his hands to the door and with his other hand on his cold forehead, hopelessly.
Rick stood up from the desk, pulled his Tripp's up and walked out the door, through the hallway. Ignoring all the looks and glares at him when all he did when someone passed him was yell "Hi!" very enthusiastically.
Rick made it outside where he put on his winter jacket, which was black and printed on the front was a quote from a text describing the devil in the language of hell.
Today's going to be a Good Day.
TheHawksReject