Red Friday - part 2 (414 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 2 on 4 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by zombieZero (View user info) at 2004-12-10 10:56:24 EST
Part 1: http://www.ubersite.com/m/53918
Kirk pulled the shade closed. He replaced the expended shell. The air smelled like gunpowder.
"He's better off," he said.
"He's better off," Sally repeated wistfully. She looked up at him and saw no remorse in his eyes, no regret on his face. The man outside coughed once then was silent. She could hear the sound of many wings flapping as crows, pushed to desperation, descended to claim the body no one wanted and no one cared about. A single tear formed in the corner of her eye.
"It would have been worse if he'd lived," Kirk said, his voice softer, "you know that."
There was a part of him, no matter how small, that cared about her and always would. Their eyes met and she found that she still loved him.
"I know," she said, then looked back to the picture.
The little boy. His smiling face.
Kirk sighed. He was tired. His mind was tired. Too many things were crowded into it; dimly he could remember how things used to be, before. Before they had come...when the first offerings were demanded, and everything changed. He could remember back before everyone had turned on each other like animals, back before they had initially tried to band together and fight, back even before the first refusal, and the terrible demonstration that followed. Way back, before the first of the days had come and he had sat on that same sofa with Sally and their biggest concerns were work, and money, and what to have for dinner. Now their living room looked like something out of a nightmare. He used to wonder why...how it all got started. What mankind had done to deserve this. It didn't matter. The world had changed and he had given up any hope of it ever changing back. There was nothing to do but to follow the rules, while every cycle they were squeezed harder and harder.
Gather your offering. Nothing from an animal, or yourself, or anyone still living. Have it ready on the appointed day.
If not...
"It's almost time," he said, glancing at the window. It was starting to get dark.
"Almost time," she repeated. Her face was dreamy. Kirk put the shotgun back on its rack, then turned and quickly walked out of the room toward the cellar. He was at the basement door when he heard his wife speak again, and he paused in the doorway.
"Can we still celebrate his birthday?" she asked suddenly, without looking at him, and for just a moment something wavered in his face. His throat knotted. His jaw clenched, and for just a second tears welled in his eyes.
He stopped them. If they started they would never stop.
"Yes," he said, "anything you like." He disappeared down the stairs.
From the moment he entered the cellar, the smell flooded over him. It was vile. He reached for the light switch, and his hand hung there as he prepared himself for what he was going to see. He could feel the switch under his fingers, but he didn't want to flip it. He didn't want to see.
He squeezed his eyes shut in the darkness and saw the intruder on the porch; saw him lunging for the window, that look of pure, blessed relief on his face. The look of betrayal a second later. He wanted to feel bad for the man, he wanted to feel shame, or pain, or anything about what he had done that might feel remotely human...
But all he could think was; why did you have to show up now? Why couldn't it have been last night, or even this morning? Why did I have to leave you to the crows, now, of all times? It's not fair.
I'm a human being, the man had said. It was meant to appeal to his sense of decency, he supposed, but it was that very phrase that had caused him to waste the shell. It wasn't fair.
His teeth were clenched, and his heart was pounding. He had to turn on the light and face what he had to finish. Time was running out.
He had no choice, he knew that. It was cruel, yes. It was evil, but he had no choice. When the day came, you had to be ready. If you weren't, there were worse things than death. There was suffering, and there was eternity.
Kirk opened his eyes, and flipped the switch. The light came on, and his crimes were in the room with him.
He reached out for the cleaver in front of him, its handle sticky and cold, and yanked it out of the tabletop.
User Reviews
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2004-12-10 14:07:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Mother fucker, I want MORE!
This is fucking good. REALLY fucking good.
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2004-12-10 12:37:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Oh, this is going to be bad, bad, bad.
Submitted by funkchomper (user info) at 2004-12-10 11:50:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I like!
Submitted by brodiesattva (user info) at 2004-12-10 11:32:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
still got my interest. Like who needs the offering? This better not turn out like "The Village."