peeup
Smash Lord
Link to original post: [drupal=3181]The Killer of us All[/drupal]
A (very) short story, the first I've written since, like, 2nd grade. Obviously, it's (slightly) more complex than something that I would have written 10 odd years ago, but it's still nothing special.
It was a rather pleasant day, decided Mr. Gregory Smitts as he took a generous puff of his cigar. He reached a hand to his nightstand and picked up a picture taken at his high school graduation all those many years ago. He gazed upon it with a nostalgic eye, and gently put it down, as if handling it with too rough a hand would displace the scene from his weakening memory. He reached for the glass of whiskey that rested upon the nightstand, but the incessant trembling of his fingers tipped over the drink. As the old carpet drank up the whiskey, with a similar vigor as Gregory had in his youth, mind you, he pulled his blanket over his chest and fidgeted his head about the pillow, trying to find the perfect position. As his eyelids were beginning to meet, he heard a sonorous ring fill the room. His heart pounded at the sudden noise. A series of thumps filled the hallways of his tiny home. His eyes sprung open. He sat up in his bed, and observed a rather curious occurrence on the floor of his bedroom.
The puddle where the whiskey had pooled on his carpet had become dark violet in color, and emitted a haunting, eerie glow. A gravely dark being began to ascend from the purplish liquid and assumed a humanoid form. A puff of suffocating smoke was released, blinding Gregory’s view. As the smog cleared aside, he could see that a shrouded figure had appeared, its face obscured by a shadowy hood. It bore a cloak the color of midnight, and grasped a large scythe in its left hand. It outstretched its right arm to Gregory, revealing a bony, skeletal hand. It spoke to him in what he thought to be a strangely familiar voice. “Come, Gregory. Your time is up. Follow me as I take you to the kingdom of the dead.”
“Greetings, spirit” Gregory stumbled to say. “It pains me to show disagreement to one with a stature such as yours, but you certainly have come to the wrong household. I am only 68 years of age, I must have a good many years to stay on this world!”
“I make no mistakes” the ghoul replied emotionlessly. “You must suffer through what millions of men have suffered through before you. There are many places we must visit before your final place of resting. It would be easiest for both of us if you make haste.”
Gregory slowly removed the blankets from his bed and stood up. Looking upon himself, he was stricken by what he was wearing. When he had entered the bed what seemed to be 10 minutes ago, he was wearing his nightgown. However, he was now fully clothed in his best tuxedo and dress pants. A rather curious thing, though he regarded it as unimportant considering the figure who stood before him. “Please, reaper, explain to me why you are here long before my expected time!” he cried out.
“Calm yourself, Mr. Smitts. The first stop on your celestial journey is to a place of reflection, the Chamber of Remembrance” the reaper declared.
“I wish to stay here, in my bed! I am frail and tired, and as such require my rest!” he exclaimed to his grim host. The shade seemed not to notice his plea, and simply gripped his scythe in both bony hands. He slashed at the space in front of him, leaving a ghastly violet streak hanging in the air. The streak flashed the entire spectrum of colors, forcing Gregory to shield his eyes. He lost all sensation in his body, and then was overcome with the sound of drowning sorrow and crying filling his ears. A flash of silence, and he opened his eyes. He sat in a chamber lit only by the dim glow of a small floating flame in the center of the room. Suddenly, hundreds of television screens buzzed to life across the entire circular room.
“These,” the reaper began, “display memories that have remained in your mind for all these years.” Gregory almost hadn’t heard him, as he was momentarily distracted by the attempt to see what was beneath the reaper’s hood. He longed to see the face of his escort through his grave.
“Ah, yes! I see so much here, it brings a tear to my eye to see where I have come from! This screen here, it is showing me the first time I met the love of my life, Allison. It was at a dance at my university. I was a sophomore, she a freshman. My friends told me that I could do better, but when I gazed into her eyes for the first time, I knew that we were destined to be together. That must have been the greatest moment of my life.” He was overcome with emotion as he watched the scene play out. However, his eyes could not help but fall back onto the reaper. He hoped to be able to see what was hidden beneath the shadowed hood that the reaper wore, though to no avail.
“What else do you see here, Gregory?” the reaper questioned in his emotionless tone.
“Certainly I was wrong before in saying that the first time I met Allison was the finest moment of my life, for this screen shows my only memory better than that! This is when I asked Allison to take my hand on marriage. We were both speechless in our happiness; we knew we would be together forever. She was the only other human being that I had ever truly loved. It was a magical feeling unlike any other.” Again, what began as a leisurely stroll down memory lane ended in a futile attempt to steal a glance of the reaper’s face.
“Thus far, you have shown me only joyous memories, Gregory. Surely you have experienced sadness in your life” the reaper noted as he pointed to a screen to their left.
“I wish not to watch this, though I shall, as you have directed. This screen shows the saddest moment of my life. After returning to our apartment after a long night of drinking, Allison said that she’d had enough. This situation had occurred too many times before, though this one was even worse. She told me that she needed a husband that had his life in order, not a blathering drunk. She left me that night, and I have never been as happy since.” Tears filled his eyes as he watched Allison slam the door and walk away.
“You have seen enough, Mr. Smitts. We must continue your journey to your final resting place. Follow me, if you will” said the reaper.
“You say that I have seen enough. However, in truth, there is one remaining sight I wish to see. Since I have first seen you, your face has eluded my gaze. I do desire to see what you have hidden from me. Would you please reveal to me this secret?” No sooner had Gregory asked this question did the pain and sorrow filled echoes of an empty laughter reverberate through the chambers of his skull. A look of utter horror spread across Gregory Smitts’ face as the reaper slowly removed his hood, revealing to him the image that Gregory had seen in mirrors so many times before!
A (very) short story, the first I've written since, like, 2nd grade. Obviously, it's (slightly) more complex than something that I would have written 10 odd years ago, but it's still nothing special.
It was a rather pleasant day, decided Mr. Gregory Smitts as he took a generous puff of his cigar. He reached a hand to his nightstand and picked up a picture taken at his high school graduation all those many years ago. He gazed upon it with a nostalgic eye, and gently put it down, as if handling it with too rough a hand would displace the scene from his weakening memory. He reached for the glass of whiskey that rested upon the nightstand, but the incessant trembling of his fingers tipped over the drink. As the old carpet drank up the whiskey, with a similar vigor as Gregory had in his youth, mind you, he pulled his blanket over his chest and fidgeted his head about the pillow, trying to find the perfect position. As his eyelids were beginning to meet, he heard a sonorous ring fill the room. His heart pounded at the sudden noise. A series of thumps filled the hallways of his tiny home. His eyes sprung open. He sat up in his bed, and observed a rather curious occurrence on the floor of his bedroom.
The puddle where the whiskey had pooled on his carpet had become dark violet in color, and emitted a haunting, eerie glow. A gravely dark being began to ascend from the purplish liquid and assumed a humanoid form. A puff of suffocating smoke was released, blinding Gregory’s view. As the smog cleared aside, he could see that a shrouded figure had appeared, its face obscured by a shadowy hood. It bore a cloak the color of midnight, and grasped a large scythe in its left hand. It outstretched its right arm to Gregory, revealing a bony, skeletal hand. It spoke to him in what he thought to be a strangely familiar voice. “Come, Gregory. Your time is up. Follow me as I take you to the kingdom of the dead.”
“Greetings, spirit” Gregory stumbled to say. “It pains me to show disagreement to one with a stature such as yours, but you certainly have come to the wrong household. I am only 68 years of age, I must have a good many years to stay on this world!”
“I make no mistakes” the ghoul replied emotionlessly. “You must suffer through what millions of men have suffered through before you. There are many places we must visit before your final place of resting. It would be easiest for both of us if you make haste.”
Gregory slowly removed the blankets from his bed and stood up. Looking upon himself, he was stricken by what he was wearing. When he had entered the bed what seemed to be 10 minutes ago, he was wearing his nightgown. However, he was now fully clothed in his best tuxedo and dress pants. A rather curious thing, though he regarded it as unimportant considering the figure who stood before him. “Please, reaper, explain to me why you are here long before my expected time!” he cried out.
“Calm yourself, Mr. Smitts. The first stop on your celestial journey is to a place of reflection, the Chamber of Remembrance” the reaper declared.
“I wish to stay here, in my bed! I am frail and tired, and as such require my rest!” he exclaimed to his grim host. The shade seemed not to notice his plea, and simply gripped his scythe in both bony hands. He slashed at the space in front of him, leaving a ghastly violet streak hanging in the air. The streak flashed the entire spectrum of colors, forcing Gregory to shield his eyes. He lost all sensation in his body, and then was overcome with the sound of drowning sorrow and crying filling his ears. A flash of silence, and he opened his eyes. He sat in a chamber lit only by the dim glow of a small floating flame in the center of the room. Suddenly, hundreds of television screens buzzed to life across the entire circular room.
“These,” the reaper began, “display memories that have remained in your mind for all these years.” Gregory almost hadn’t heard him, as he was momentarily distracted by the attempt to see what was beneath the reaper’s hood. He longed to see the face of his escort through his grave.
“Ah, yes! I see so much here, it brings a tear to my eye to see where I have come from! This screen here, it is showing me the first time I met the love of my life, Allison. It was at a dance at my university. I was a sophomore, she a freshman. My friends told me that I could do better, but when I gazed into her eyes for the first time, I knew that we were destined to be together. That must have been the greatest moment of my life.” He was overcome with emotion as he watched the scene play out. However, his eyes could not help but fall back onto the reaper. He hoped to be able to see what was hidden beneath the shadowed hood that the reaper wore, though to no avail.
“What else do you see here, Gregory?” the reaper questioned in his emotionless tone.
“Certainly I was wrong before in saying that the first time I met Allison was the finest moment of my life, for this screen shows my only memory better than that! This is when I asked Allison to take my hand on marriage. We were both speechless in our happiness; we knew we would be together forever. She was the only other human being that I had ever truly loved. It was a magical feeling unlike any other.” Again, what began as a leisurely stroll down memory lane ended in a futile attempt to steal a glance of the reaper’s face.
“Thus far, you have shown me only joyous memories, Gregory. Surely you have experienced sadness in your life” the reaper noted as he pointed to a screen to their left.
“I wish not to watch this, though I shall, as you have directed. This screen shows the saddest moment of my life. After returning to our apartment after a long night of drinking, Allison said that she’d had enough. This situation had occurred too many times before, though this one was even worse. She told me that she needed a husband that had his life in order, not a blathering drunk. She left me that night, and I have never been as happy since.” Tears filled his eyes as he watched Allison slam the door and walk away.
“You have seen enough, Mr. Smitts. We must continue your journey to your final resting place. Follow me, if you will” said the reaper.
“You say that I have seen enough. However, in truth, there is one remaining sight I wish to see. Since I have first seen you, your face has eluded my gaze. I do desire to see what you have hidden from me. Would you please reveal to me this secret?” No sooner had Gregory asked this question did the pain and sorrow filled echoes of an empty laughter reverberate through the chambers of his skull. A look of utter horror spread across Gregory Smitts’ face as the reaper slowly removed his hood, revealing to him the image that Gregory had seen in mirrors so many times before!
