Cable-The Man

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
a man who is tormented by demons of his mind

Submitted: March 18, 2011

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Submitted: March 18, 2011



I was just thinking what would happen if Einstein was right about the fourth world war.
I do not know what the third world war will be fought with but I do know the fourth will be fought with sticks and stones – Albert Einstein.
A dark room, in a dark building centered in Dallas Texas, an alarm echoes.
A tired voice sounds “damn alarm.”
Suddenly the lights flash on a man sits alone in his small cramped apartment dog tags jingle around his neck no longer his identification, just a memento. This man without a friend in the world knew only too little about his life too come or of all the living beings that didn’t give a damn about him, though he would save them all.
“five, damn I need a new job its too damn early to be delivering water,” the gruff man says as he gets out of his nightly sarcophagus, not a place to rest his mind only a place of torment to his mind of flashbacks to the war. He walks to the door turns the knob back and forth four times before exiting his lonely apartment.
Outside the OLD MILL BOTTELING COMPANY a half dozen men stand around smoking cigarettes, “hey cable, got a light,” asks one of the men. All the man does is grunt and flip the other the bird.
“You know they only want to make you they friend mon why you treat dem like that mon?” said the Jamaican man sitting in the truck next to him.
“Because I don’t have or want any friends Jo,” said cable with arrogance in his voice.
“But what about me, mon we been friends since you started working here,” asked Jo.
“You’re a co-worker not a friend, now what’s the first delivery?”
“It’s East Twenty third street,” stated Jo, “I don’t care what you say we friends Tommy.”
“ look Jo I’ve told you were not friends, here it is.”
“Fine you think what you want and ill think what I want mon.”
As the men got out of the truck a block or two away there was a drive by shooting and Jo ducked but Cable didn’t act quite the same. His palms were clammy eyes wide open heart racing so many thoughts running through his mind.
BLAT, BLAT, the sound of a semi-automatic machine gun too many times had he heard this before and too many times had it been aimed at him but this time was different, he actually froze. A young boy stood in front of him holding the gun that had just gone off.
“Cable mon you all right? You look like ya saw a ghost mon,” asked the still shooken up Jo.
“Huh,” muttered Cable, ”oh yeah I’m fine just some bad memories.”
“Your not gonna go all flashback crazy are ya?” asked Jo, “cuz I cant handle that mon.”
“Just forget it’” grunted Cable, “now what’s the order”
“Forgotten mon, twelve cases.”
“……and in other news ten people were killed in a roadside bombing today,” announced the news anchor.
“Damn another one,” grumbled cable.
‘How many people have to die before the world gets it.’
‘Gets what?’
‘You know what and don’t make me say it again.’
‘No I don’t remember.’
‘Damn it you always forget everything that’s why we’re here you asshole.’
“GET OUT OF MY HEAD,” screamed Cable.
‘Its not our fault we’re here you’re the one who let us down and you’re the one plagued with guilt.’
‘And you’re the one who keeps drinking and you know it depresses you so you obviously want us here.’
“No I don’t.”  
Simultaneously, ‘fine then we’ll just leave.’
But he knew all too well that they would never leave for very long. His mind would forever be a playground for eternal demons. The demons of his past, present, and future always seemed to know just when to attack. Far too many times had cable tried to defeat his demons by drowning them in alcohol but they would only swim faster and faster screaming louder and louder until silence would befall him.
Two thousand miles away in a small military compound a new force would soon be in countered a force so unstoppable that if not contained could destroy all.
“two million people, two million people would be killed every second if this doesn’t work,” piped a small man from behind his cubicle walls. 


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