Revamped; A Featured Post

Eyes Cast Downward- Memoir Excerpt

Originally hand written in July 2015 Late Spring of 2014.  Just Months before liver failure Our eyes are nearly always cast dow...

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

The Scent of Crushed Violets- Memoir/Dreamscape

My eyes are closed. All I see is the spin of our loop.
 I feel rapid eye movement behind my lids as I repeat the call. 
This is how I know she hears me. 
I am standing like a pillar with my chin nearly touching my clavicle.

My shoulders are back and locked firmly in place.
My arms are directly in front of me.
They slice across my abdomen forming an X shape.
My hands are beginning to warm the cold metal of the two Glocks that I have firmly griped.
They sit unfastened, loaded with a full magazine, more than enough rounds than we will require.
They rest within custom holster's above my hips. 
We are nearly there...
My breathing has become in sync with what my mind is weaving and my R.E.M.

"May I be ready. We are ready.
 Let them come. We are one.
May I be ready. We are ready.
 Let them come. We are one.
Come to us now. 
Come now. Come now. Come now..."

I lift my head slowly with eyes still closed. My senses have sharpened. 
The atmosphere has shifted. Unsettled and rearranged.
 I know they are near. 
I breathe in her power and it fills my lungs with warmth. 
My lips are pulled upwards by her strings. 
I breathe out with a slow whisper
 "Thank you..." 

I open my eyes and see them immediately only about eight yards away.
Micah and Max appear simultaneously in opposite corners of the dimly lit refectory.
I count five paces as I walk towards them.

I stop and wait to see their next move.
Max takes only a few steps towards me until he see's Micah. 
He slouches, defeated. 
Then he leans against a wall and puts his hand in his pocket. 
A simple spectator, an observer of life, as per usual.
While Micah continues toward me from the right corner with long and quick stride.
I lift both guns from my waist with sharp, precise movement.
My elbows extended for a moment, upwards, then straight in front of me.
The gun I pulled from my left side is aimed directly at Micah.
The other is pointing in the direction I last saw Max .
 I call her in. I breathe her in.

I match his pace .
He is only a few feet away now.
 I pull the slide back with the bottom of my left hand.
 Then slide my arm back, aimed once again in left corner pointing at Max.
I see past the oceanic gray of Micah's eyes. 
I now am able to see straight to the center of him.
He lunges toward me and spits out,
 "I never fucking loved you and I don't owe you shit."
I extend my arm and aim at his chest.
He snarls and jerks his chin upward. 
Never stepping out of the pseudo confident persona, not even in the spirit realm.
I only feel a touch of pity. 
She seems to have dominated my emotions.
"No. You certainly did not love her. You were a mistake." 
I pull back on the trigger and keep my finger pressed until I feel it reset. 
"This debt is paid."

I do not need a second bullet. 
 His form moves back as if pushed by something far more powerful than a bullet.
 A dark billowing of thick black smoke and shadow leak from the wound. 
Where blood would have been on a human.
His form jolts backward with a force that is far more powerful than any mortal's toy.
I lower my weapon in my right hand.
 I keep the second weapon my left hand still pointed in Max's direction.
I watch as this strange darkness begins to pour out in wispy rivulets.
In less then a minute he has disappeared entirely.

I see movement from the left I already know that it is Max.
I shift my torso and neck and observe with detachment as he slowly shuffles toward me. 

His expression is that of a smug fool.
He thinks things are different because the other male has disappeared.
A lowly dejection as always, even in this realm.
He is holding what appears to be a small gold ring in one of his hands.
 The other hand is still in his pocket.
I watch him carefully as I unload the magazine and place it back at my left side.
I could shoot him with the glock in my left hand but there is no reason to. 
He is moving so slowly that I have the time to make the swap. 
I have more accuracy with my right hand.
He is closer then I would like when he says,
"Will you marry me?"
 I look again at his hands without altering my aim and it just is as I suspected.
The ring was a ploy.
 He pull's his other hand out of his pocket for the first time.
 He reveals a pair of manacles.  
I pull the slide back with my now free left hand.
She speak's again and I allow her complete control.

"This is not a true marriage. She was never a wife to you. 
This creature I speak for belongs to no man."

The words come out of my mouth as if being pulled from somewhere deep within me. 
They feel foreign on my tongue.
He makes a desperate leap toward me.
I pull back on the trigger and his arms swing out forming a cross.
He drops the ring, it coils and slithers away.
The manacles he was holding begin to lengthen and coil around him.
This is different than the first revenant. 
She seems to be taking her time.
He is shaking violently inside one long chain, still in a crucifix position. 
My human eye's see that he is terrified and I wonder what we appear as in spirit form.

She opens my mouth. 
Words are tugging on my vocal chords.
"You have done things that all Gods within all realms have no redemption for. 
This, Maxwell Jackson is only the beginning of your eternal vision."
I watch him as he convulses, his mouth is ajar and black slides down his chin.
The Ground cracks beneath him. 
Chains are uprooted and they wrap around his ankles and work up his legs.
He is pulled down in one violent tug.
One loud blast, then the refectory seals itself back to it's original state.
I open my hand, the Glock hits the ground.
 I hear the clatter, then only silence.
A strong scent of violets is in the air.
I close my eye's and I breathe.  
I hear her.
-The are within the vacuum now, where they will come to understand their errors-
I feel peace.
-Are you ready to see your's?-
I speak with my own voice and answer.
"I trust that you will show me."
-Peace. Warmth. Golden.-
I let a tear fall .
"Thank you."

Mary Catherine, Cowardice Queen

No comments:

Post a Comment

Anything to say on the subject?