Salvation of a Damned Man (462 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: -0.2 on 5 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by JacobT (View user info) at 2006-01-23 23:17:01 EST
Wrote this awhile back, copy-pasted it so ignore and obscure format.
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Disgusted, he slammed the door to the small cabins only bedroom, which now yet housed another corpse. The stench of decay drove him to hurry quickly to the bathroom down the hall, overcome with an urge to vomit. Whether the vomiting was just a reaction to the smell, or something more personal, he wasn't sure; all he knew was that the events of the past week had made him sick.
He flushed the toilet with more than a slight note of indignation, and walked over to the sink. He turned the archaic knobs, and the orange hued water slowly poured fourth, gaining moment as it sputtered. He grabbed the soap from its usual spot beside the sink, and began rubbing his hands under the lukewarm water.
The blood tinted the water from its orange color to a dark red as it raced down the similarly stained sink. He had lost track of how many times he had done this act, and it didn't matter. That he did it at all meant he was damned, and realizing this brought tears to his eyes. Damned despite how out of his hands the events may have been. "It's unfair! I should not be held responsible for this!" he yelled into the mirror over the sink, removing any signs of the tears he was shedding.
At these thoughts, his mood quickly turned to anger. He hastily turned the knobs, which yet again sputtered before truly stopping, and dried his hands on the towel hung less than elegantly on a metal rod next to the sink.
He stormed out of the bathroom, and across the cabin to the one truly responsible. The one who made him do it; the one who had tortured him since his arrival at this accursed cabin; the one who had damned his soul beyond any hope of repenting.
He entered the living room, and hesitated. It was dark, lit only by the light coming through the window from the quickly setting sun. He scanned the room, already knowing what he would find. Furnished only with a couch and chair situated near the Television, the room looked almost uninhabited. Just beyond the window was the heavy metal door which served as the cabins sole entrance, right near the far corner of the room.
And that was where It stood, nearly 7' tall, right in front of the door. No more than a black form, it somehow stood out in the dark of the cabin.
"God damn you!" He said, as his eyes locked on the form. "All those people!"
He started at it, frustrated and confused, as it remained where it was, not even acknowledging him.
"I've done everything you've asked of me! Why do you stay?! Why do you still torment me?!" he shouted, the anger in his voice more apparent with each syllable, and his face turning red with hate.
And still it faced him, yet did not talk, did not react. It seemed all but oblivious to him, as it stood still. So still one might think it to be floating.
"Damn you!" he yelled at it again, as he stepped towards it. "I will do no more!" he screamed, attempting to appear intimidating against this massive form that dwarfed him in comparison. "You aren't even real, are you?!" He cried, desperately trying to find some way of getting through to it, insulting it, angering it.
And still it stood, careless, silent, unmoving. No more than a vibrant silhouette in a dark room. It neither acknowledged him nor ignored him, as one might do with a mild pest, no more than an annoyance. "I hate you!" He screamed, as a child throwing a tantrum might. "This can't be happening..."
Once more he started towards it menacingly, and began his questions once more. "What is wrong with you?! What are you?! Why do you torture me?!" his demands grew louder and louder with each word, his desperation ever more apparent. "I'm not crazy!"
"Why don't you say any..." he began, until a knocking on the door interrupted him.
He paused, completely still, shocked at the thought of an intruder in his own little corner of the world. He stared blankly for what seemed like years, his thoughts racing as he tried to grasp the situation at hand. "They mustn't know... I can't let them find out... No one will believe me..." The thoughts raced in his head, as he tried to calm himself in preparation to open the door.
"Hello?" a female voice called out from the other side of the door. "Is anyone home?"
He cracked the door, and peered out until his eyes adjusted to the outside lighting and he could interpret a female police officer standing on his porch. "What?" he snapped at her, denying any signs of hospitality.
"Sir, I'm just here to ask you a few questions, if you have a moment?" she responded in the usual I'm-being-polite-because-I-have-to-be-voice he found all authority figures to use when talking to him.
"I really don't, I must be going soon..." he said, trying to end the situation as soon as possible, fearing any discovery of what had taken place just this past hour or worse; discover of the thing just behind the door.
"It won't take long" she said, setting her foot in the door to prevent him from closing it further.
"All right... only for a minute" he said reluctantly, opening the door further and stepping back into the house. "Ignore the lighting, I'm having... electrical problems" he said, making an excuse for his own bad habits.
She followed him into the room, and brushed the thing as she entered. It folded under her presence, and allowed her to pass without giving the least bit of resistance. He cringed at this sight, but her expression assured him she knew nothing as he sat down on the chair.
"So what brings you out here?" He asked hastily, praying to himself that she would hurry up and leave for her sake, slightly angered as she sat down on the end of the couch nearest him.
"Well, we've had reports of a few missing people these past few weeks. I was wondering if you've seen anything?" she asked, trying to be as polite as possible to this rude shell of a person.
"No, I haven't" he hastily replied.
"Are you sure? We found a car down the road, abandoned. Surely you must have seen it?" She asked, curious as to what he might know.
"As I said, I was just about to leave; I haven't so much as gone for more food in the past few days." He replied defensively.
"Well, we assume they were hikers" she said, with a quick pause to gauge his response. "We think they have gotten lost in the woods"
"That's all well and good, but what it has to do with you bothering me any further, I do not know" He said with a bit of hostility in his voice.
"Sir, I'm just doing my job..." she began, until she noticed him glancing past her, next to the door. "Is something bothering you?" she asked in a new tone, as she stood and looked about the room.
He stared at the thing, and nodded to it as he stood. He knew what it wanted. Knew what he had to do.
He signaled to her, indicating for her to move towards him as if he needed to tell her something in a whisper, something that might be overheard. She hesitated at this, but moved forward when she was reassured by the presence of her firearm, and the knowledge of her partner waiting just down the drive.
Quickly seizing the opportunity, he slammed his shoulder into her chest, knocking her to the ground. He leaped upon her, held her down as he removed her gun from its holster.
He stood, and aimed at her where she squirmed on the floor, the breath knocked out of her preventing any call for help. And then he saw it out of the corner of his eye. "It must be done" he said, realizing the only course of action.
He centered the gun on her head, and tightened his finger. Closing her eyes, she heard the first shot fire... and then the second, and the third.
Nothing had hit her, and she opened her eyes for the fourth shot and saw his new target, a dark image in the corner of the room.
He continued firing, unknowing that she had stood. She delivered a quick blow with all of her strength, and he crumpled to the floor. "Its over... its over..." he muttered to himself, Oblivious to the rest of the world.
She cuffed the man, meeting with little resistance, and organized herself. She saw her partner enter the door, and noticed the bullet-holes in the wall near the door where just the last bit of sunlight was seeping through. She unhooked her flashlight from her belt, and aimed it on the corner.
And there she saw a large dark trench coat, which someone had hung on a rather tall coat rack, filled with bullet holes.
User Reviews
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-01-24 08:15:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Big Mike got this one spot on.
*idly scratches head - gets back to work*
Submitted by Grimm (user info) at 2006-01-24 08:07:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Sphagnum (user info) at 2006-01-24 07:58:32 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
WTF? I'm not reading all that.
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2006-01-24 00:13:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Interesting tale of paranoia and withering sanity. Needs a little more background and maybe a tad of restructuring, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
Submitted by PoTtY (user info) at 2006-01-23 23:52:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
I want to give this a +2 but it does not have the usual feel of a good story. I guess it's suppose to be creepy and crazy, but it's not really convincing. Not like I can write any better though.