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Burial Camaraderie: The thing you do to friends, bury them.

Novel By: marsh
Mystery and crime


PROLOGUE:

Chain from the past



(1892, Black Widow Forest)






He stood there; wearing a dreary expressionless face, buried beneath his frayed hair whipping him brutally against the strong wind, deep silver fog overcastting amidst the churchyard bellowing its taciturn movement athwart to Black Widow Forest. The white snow powdering away quietly on the soil, making it look dusty and pale. On his hands embraced a silver locket, he held it for some time now, afraid to let it go. In front of him stood a gravestone, white snowy roses lay on each side, he stared at the roses for a while now, mocking him with its elegant beauty, but it was not the white petals that tempted him, for it was the blood that stained the roses in red. He seemed bothered. He seemed troubled. But on the same face contained a calm and tranquil manifestation.








You killed her. You killed your wife. Murderer! The phrases still echoing in his thoughts, confusing him, making his head hurt. He remembered the last night when they were together, how he held her tight, how he embraced his love, how he kissed her. And he also remembered the night when she passed away, the night when they took her from him, or was it him who killed her? He was confused. His head still aching, but he doesn’t seem to mind. What’s all this? He thought to himself. He pressed the blood on his head, he wasn’t sure where it was coming from and why is it there but he was sure it was blood, the same blood that stained the roses, the blood on his hands. Bang! He remembered the gunshot. The people on the streets. The knife on his hands. Murderer! They all shouted. He remembered how he ran from there. He remembered how they chased him with forks and spears. Are they still chasing me? He wasn’t sure.







I’m going to kill him! I’m going to kill them! I’m going to kill the ones who murdered you! My love. . . He was talking to the gravestone now. Shouting at it. Cursing them. Cursing him. His face now covered in blood. He slowly placed the locket inside the hole he dug up a while ago, or was it already there? He still wasn’t sure. Carefully filling up the hole with soil and blood. He smiled. He laughed. He cried. He was confused. You are safe here. He whispered to the ground. He smiled again. The torchlight’s slowly appearing on the graveyard, the torchlight’s the mobs were carrying. He rode off with his horse. Heading towards the forest. His sight now blurred and red. He smiled still; he knew he’ll be back. But for now, he must go, hide, and disappear.





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Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5

Submitted:Nov 30, 2010    Reads: 15    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


"You scared the living out of me, man" He said as he took a seat on the couch. His clothes were wet as his hair was, his face looked shaken and his hands were still trembling. He thought and never cared if it was the cold rain that made it or was it the whole 'moving doorknob' thing he had witnessed. "You freaked me out, too," Sean said. "Boy, I thought it was your father or something," he looked outside through the lancet window, peering down on the wet road and the faint rain that had stricken the clear window glass. "But I never really did thought I'd see you before seven, about the plan," He put in. He was acting all like a detective. He remembered how detectives showed off their shiny badges to people, but in his state he can't even show his face to anyone, especially the police, which are looking for him all evening. "We wouldn't need to go to school now that we are all here, now do we? Why else are you here anyway?" Jack asked, he snapped out of his hysteria and came back to the real world and began to ask real questions. "You won't believe what I just did," he stared at the door carefully, suspiciously listening to the pouring rain outside. He then turned back to Jack. "What, you mean you killed old Gharry?" Jack subjected. "Don't be crazy, you know I wouldn't do that, but that police guy sure was stupid, perhaps stupid enough for me to escape," he grinned at Jack. "Oh boy, don't tell me what you just told me, you mean you forcibly escaped from that police? What, you beat him up or something? Where's the body?" Jack hauls over the coals and started scolding Sean as if he was the mother. "You know, you're acting weird lately, must have been that Johnson's been telling you, but anyway, all I did was took the keys from his belt when he was busy driving and talking over phone at the same time," Sean explained, seemed proud of what he did.

"That guy has a date tonight with a chick named Lisa, hah, boy I never knew police got it in them, I listened to the conversation all the way,"

"Got what? Uh, never mind, just get to the serious part," he said. "Come on! How'd you escape?"

"It was simple; he had filled his bladder with coffee for some time and had to take a pee, really badly," he started to pace the living room back and forth, waving his hands in motion as he continued his story, which eventually became an oration. "We parked near the museum, when he left me in the back seat, with no cuffs on, or something, just locked doors," he continued. "I used the keys to get out, simple." He ended it with a bow and sat in one of the chairs surrounding the small table center of the living room. Jack thought he was taking this all like a joke, but he remembered how Sean was at the train station, how he looked so damned, with it, he never doubt. He must have accepted it. That it happened. He thought. And maybe I should accept it as well, that things happen.

"Johnson," Jack remembered.

"Mr. Johnson was called up by the head office earlier at Milles. You think it's about your whole escape mission?" he started to dry himself with some towels. He hadn't notice the wet clothes 'til know. The living room carpet was soaked as well, absorbing all the drippings. He was in such strain. "I'll be glad if it weren't." Sean said. "Where's Bob anyway?"

"He's helping with a case at the police station," he began wiping his hair, "your case to be exact."

"I thought he retired from the service two years ago."

"I thought too," Jack said. "But he's back, and he's serious about it."

After they had finished planning what they had needed for the plan, with Sean dramatically adding some detective side to it and Jack constantly being able to plan the whole thing, they decided to put it to rest and sleep with it. Jack arranged some sleeping sacks for Sean to sleep with while he plunged himself to sleep on his single bed. He glanced at the window for a minute and resumed his attempt to sleep with it.

The wind blew from a soft to a grueling and relentless bluster that had disturbed the twigs and leaves, making an eerie yet hushed sound of swishing. The rain had become increasingly strong as it had been all night. It had been an hour since the light coming from the room went out, silent as it is the still room was highlighted by footsteps, hard yet orderly steps. He glanced at the person on bed, being as quite as he could be, carefully not to arouse his deep and tranquil slumber. He carefully shut the door close and walked through the hallway, thoroughly guiding his way with hands through the abysmal and dark night, with mere lighting and only the light outside producing a blunt amount of light, he didn't know where to find the stair down. I have to do this, he whispered in silent.

On the long and busy streets of metropolitan, located his small and stuffed headquarters, situated left from the sixth floor of the red brick building, from here you could see a bird's eye view of the whole coastline, stretching all the way to the other side, the yachts and beautiful royal-like ships docking on port, the blinding city night lights that flashed on his eyes, he seemed bored of it.

"Where are you off to, Sir" Fred, his assistant asked.

"Out of town," he said. He wore a black long coat that had reached all the way to his knees, a black hat that was drawn down that had covered a portion of his face, and his hands were cuffed on to a suitcase, a sturdy black suitcase "and when will you be back?" Fred replied, "I'll be back whenever," he was outside the door now, looking from side to side making sure no one had seen him got out the room, "an old friend called me, says he has something for me to work on," he told Fred about it and had understood that he would stay behind to continue his office duty, there were only three of them working in headquarters, perhaps they wouldn't be if he had transferred to an exclusive building the senator had given him. But he wanted to do it his own way, his own place. "I'll contact you if I need anything," he closed the door shut. It's been long since I've gone to Desert Hills, he thought.





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