as some of you know i used to write alot... my old myspace fan page was filled with the stuff... and i have been kinda feeling like that is part of me... so it's whut i do... this type of writing was part of a book that would never be really written... just a fictional tale of things in my head... so... yeah... here it goes...
As I Spread My Black Wings
I have no face, no name, if I had a name I forgot it a long time ago. Back when I walked this earth before. I am now a nameless, faceless being. It's really hard to explain if I try to because things just get fuzzy from a certain point. I had a life once. Not what many would think if they see me now, I am just an existence, a form, a shadow. Not even sure why I am here. Sometimes it starts flooding back to me, at other times it is just a whisper deep in my soul, my life, was an endless time of salvation and damnation, walking that razor's edge, often jumping from one side to the other whenever it seemed most personally self gaining for me. I cost me everything that I held dear, not standing on one side or the other, being a moral mercenary if you will, and then the end came. Not how I expected it, hell, I had figured it all out so differently, but like I was told a thousand times, if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans. Now I stand alone, no one with me, very few can even see me anynore, and for the most part those who do, well, I am one of the last things they want to see.
For instance tonight. I sat in one of the places that I like to sit, a place where most won't see even if they look hard at it. A place where thousands pass by every day and yet they just pass by. Not looking, not seeing, not knowing, that within and arms reach, I was there, just waiting. I saw him, looking, watching, waiting, prowling. A predator, I can see it in him, the way he moves, the way he lurks in plain sight. Most will not notice him, he has mastered his craft, the craft of being seen and yet unseen. To most, he would be just, that guy, a little different, but not different enough to notice, but I notice, for me, he reeks of it, something that I have only come to know as, the darkness, some call it demons, some call it evil, whatever it is I can only describe it as darkness. A decision that he had made that led to another decision, and so on and so forth until he became a walking form of what strives to slowly eat away at the world. He is a predator, out looking for prey. Like a lion stalking a herd of gazelle in the long grass. Slowly moving, watching, waiting, and when the opportune moment comes, striking. Striking without mercy, compassion, any type of emotion that would make him human at that moment. No longer being who he was, but just letting his inner demon out.
What makes him that way? The truth? All humans are capable of it, as they are also capable of being the guardians. It's all ingrained in us, it is how we were created, and within that creation we were all given the choice, some choose the narrow road, which is much more difficult, but in turn, is the true reward. Yet some, like this gentleman here, I'll call him that, for now. Hasn't made that choice, he has chosen that path that was laid before him that was wide and easy. I always thought it was funny, the whole Highway to Hell, and Stairway to Heaven, because most people when given the choice to dirve down a highway or climb stairs, well, I think you can all figure out which many decide and which few do.
That's where I come in, I guess if this was the true animal kingdom, and the city was a forest, I would be a wolf, the top of the food chian, but yet I am an outcast, I stayed with the pack for a long time, running, hunting, forraging, and yet I found no comfort in that. In my life, I was the Alpha male, and yet there was no comfort in that existence, I have my own pack, that is true, but when I hunt like this, I hunt alone. Maybe because I don't want to be influenced, maybe because I don't want to be swayed from my target once I so choose. Or maybe it is just because that was how I was built, that was how I was made, that for some moments in my life the only way I can stand is to stand alone. Either or, It is what it is, and I am what I am. The animal that diverts the moment of impact and turns the predators into the prey. I am a hunter, and that is what I am.
The man below has chosen, he sees his lamb that has strayed. She is about 22 from the looks of it, long blond hair that looks like it has been bleached 10 too many times, green heels that look like she could break a hip if she toppled off of them due to the height, and a green dress that almost matched the shoes and looked abut 3 sizes too small. I would guess a stripper, or as she would probably call herself a dancer, anything to make the nightmare of what she has to do for pay in this city paletable to herself. She has led a life of regrets, a life of bad choices, addiction, and pain. Granted, as all of us have, we are products of our choices, surroundings, and our raising to some extent. But she does not deserve the fate that he has chosen for her, no one does. She seems a little off, maybe she had a few or more, or an upper, or a downer, or a cocktail of things that just bring her back to the point that she was looking for. Either way, he can see it, smell it, feel it, and I makes him hungry. It's almost as if something insde him clicks, a switch gets flicked, a point where morality and sense is abandoned and the darkness comes. It's something that I have seen time and time again.
My first thought is to end it at that moment, I don't know what it is, it drives me, like lava pulsing through my veins. I feel as if I am on fire, I feel the need to spread my black wings and stop this at this precise moment, but I can't, I won't. For this moment all I can do is pray, pray that he comes to his senses, pray that he can fight the darkness, for within him is the power to do that, everyone has it, even if they cannot see it or feel it, it is there. Screaming through the darkness, sometimes so loud I feel I can hear it, 'take my hand, I am here, take my hand, I am here'. Of course there were times in my life that I heard such calls and didn't listen, heh, maybe that's why I got sent back. Of course that part of it, I'm still not really sure about, I'm not even positive I even left in the first place, maybe just kinda woke up, but I'll get back to that later. I can see it working it's way through his system, he's not fighting it at all, like a pirahna that flinches the moment a droplet of blood touches the water, he almost seems to the point of a feeding frenzy. I know that it is now too far gone for him, it is now too late, he had made his decision and now I must make mine.
He slowly moves closer to her, the people are thinning out, the bars have been closed down for about an hour and the people who are still out are either too inebriated to care, are just trying to go on their merry way and not become lambs for the slaughter, or predators themselves. The city has died down to a dull roar. I know this area well and can almost anticipate his point of attack, an area right by the river where the city comes up against God's nature, the sidewalk comes right alongside the foliage of the rvier, and the dense underbrush not only makes perfet cover, the rush of water over St. Anthony Falls will help disguise his attack. I have been hunting these types so long I can almost see inside their heads, it makes me want to vomit. But I have learned that I must give them every chance I can, for that is the way. heh, that's the hardest part of my job, waiting, I never have liked to wait, they say patience is a virtue, well, I guess then in that way I am not too virtuous.
Please don't do it, please, don't do this to yourself. Too late, she tries to struggle and scream, but he is on her like a mountain lion. His hand quick to cover her mouth with something and his forward intertia pushing them right into the dense underbrush. I can see the fear in her eyes from here, and I spread my great black wings.
Did I mention that I'm no fan of the underbrush? Yeah, when moving at a high velocity, it sucks. Either or from my point I was able to reach them, let's just say, before he could really get anywhere. I think he looks just as suprised and fearful as she did when he came for him. Before he knows it, he has become the prey. The girl may be more shocked than he, her mascara was already running down her face in anticipation of the horrors he had planned for her. All I can do is tell her, 'run, do not look back, find a church and make something of yourself', I don't look to see if she heeds my call, but from the sounds of it, she at least figured the run part out.
Heh, and now onto him, it's often funny how once the predator becomes the prey the fight just goes right out of them, not all the time, but most. I think he is still trying to figure out what just happened. He just figgured it out, and now, has becaome the cornered animal, and now, instead of the darkness I can smell his fear. He tries to be tough, 'you don't know who I am man', heh, yeah I do. I hate this part, but it is necessary, and it will do exactly what I have come to do. As I reach for him, he tries to struggle, but that never works. As I grasp his arm, he gets to see. It's his life, but from his victims point of view. Their emotions, their fears, theirs pain. I am an oracle for that of sorts, still not quite sure how it works, it just does. He gets to see what he has caused, what he has done, and fell it all as if it was happening to him all at once. The cruddy part of it for me, since I get to be the vessel, I get to see and feel it to, yeah, not fun. The hardest part for me is not to slaughter them where they stand while all of this is going on, and yet, to see the look on their faces when they come to terms with all of this, like the commercial says, priceless.
As the visions subside he does, what they all do, crumples to the ground whimpering, crying, staring blankly at whatever they choose to stare blankly at, and my job is done, heh, yeah, even in this existence I am a middle man. I get to leave them on their own accord, and then see where their hearts lie after this experience, some will die that very night, victims of other human predators, sometimes by people that they have hurt along the way who seem unexplicably compelled to go to that exact spot that night. Some to just survive, only to not realize the error of their ways and to be shortly afteward visited by one of my, I call her, co-workers, and lets just say, she makes me look like the nice guy. I had this one one time, there he was, crying, staring blankly, and just helpless, and along came one of his victims, you wouldn't even want to know what this man had done to him, and then I saw what I'd never thought I'd see, he slowly crept forward, and when he realized who this man was he knelt right over his head and reached out with his hand slowly. As he did, I heard these words, 'Father, thank you for helping me find it within my heart to forgive this man, now please Father, watch over Him as you watch over me, I ask in your holy name. Amen.' Yeah, just when you give up on humanity, they throw you a curve.
Either or, for now my job with him is done, and it's time to go back to work. It's it weird that I still get Dolly Parton's 9 to 5 stuck in my head from time to time while I'm on the job? As I slowly wander out of the brush, I can see her off to my left, sitting outside the local parish, heh, I guess she did process it. I slowly raise my hood up and turn to walk in the opposite direction, I can feel her stare at me, they can always seem to seem me form the point of impact til about a half and hour after, don't know why, that's just the way it is, never really stopped to run a post traumatic event interview. I hope she does get her life right, everyone has chances, they just need to take 'em. I think my sense get hightened when I have these moments, not like super senses, just hightened, cuz I swore I just hear her whisper, 'thank you'.
No comments:
Post a Comment