The Spirit of Death

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
We leave this world the same way we came in... Screaming and fighting.
Credit for lyrics to The Beatles.

Submitted: January 06, 2014

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Submitted: January 06, 2014

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A five-foot dark figure sits playing on an organ meant for the basement of a church.  It’s at the top of a hill in this old, illustrious Victorian graveyard.

Screams are heard on the horizon.  It stops playing, and a smile of perfect white teeth appears on its’ face.

A scythe materializes into its’ hands; and it begins singing, harmoniously and quiet.

Legions of warriors, women, men of great stature, of small stature, and children come crashing and barreling towards it.  Phosphorous tears roll down its’ cheeks.

 

If you let me take your heart,

I will prove to you.

 

Singing, it dodges attacks with tremendous grace, slashing with the blade in righteous fury, cutting down every attacker in a violent dance, while taking the time to meticulously caress those who go willingly.

 

We will never be apart,

If I’m part of you.

 

Leaving trails of limbs, screaming bodies, tendrils, paths of ruthless gore.

 

Open up your eyes now -

Tell me what you see.

It is no surprise now,

What you see, is me!

 

The graveyard fertilizes with severed heads and hands.  Often the attackers miss and hit one another.

 

Big and black the clouds may be,

But time will pass away;

If you put your trust in me –

I’ll make bright your day.

 

Juxtaposed screams continue radiating out to the beautiful voice; as the being still smiles, crying more profusely even now, singing louder each time.

One can almost still hear the church organ booming chords together with its’ voice.

 

Listen to me one more time –

How can I get through?

Can’t you see?

That I’m trying to get to you?

 

Assault rifles now, assorted firearms, grenades, explosives.  It all passes through the figure.  Stray bullets and explosions, and the being dances yet.

To the sound of infinite belt-fed ammunition firing into the rushing horde, to the sight of flashing lights cutting through graveyard mist:

Open up your eyes now,

Tell me what you see!

It is no surprise now,

What you see is me!

 

Kamikazes in true modern form continue a pitiless assault.  After thousands of hours, the being finally stops crying, enjoying the silence, and now plays the organ surrounded by an enormity of rotting corpses.

 

Listen to me one more time,

 

It is still a soft, placid voice emanating from a being of pure dark matter.

 

How can I get through?

Can’t you only see that…

I’m only trying to get to you?!

 

The last vestiges have rotted into the cemetery; the ground is now mossy-green.  A crow sits upon a dead tree limb…  The being’s only friend.  No longer is it all red with blood.

War calls rise from the distance under the bright stars of night. 

As the being smiles with pearly-white teeth, it begins to cry glowing mercury tears, and sing while leaning away from the organ in jazz-fashion:

 

Oh yeah, all right

Uh-huh, all right

Imagine that I’m in love with you,

It’s easy ‘cause I know,

I’ve imagined I’m in love with you,

Many, many, many times before;

It’s not like me to pretend,

But I’ll get you in the end,

Oh yes I will,

I’ll get you in the end.


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