Mystery
12-31-2013, 02:35 AM
| Confessions |
"This is not hell, my boy, it is so much better a place."
Kent has placed me in front of a large, red door. It towers over me as I am on my knees looking up at the terror above. Blood is oozing from every part of my face as Kent, with his demonic new look, continues his trip down memory lane.
"This place has been here for ages. It's served as the judgement center for all beings in the known universe since the days of Jesus Christ. In face, we may have been the ones to make that call. I can never remember it. Either way, we are the ones who decide whether you may go free or enter the hell fire."
"But...Saint Peter...the white gates that lead to..." I say, trying to catch my breath as the exhaustion from the past...I have no idea how long its been. So much time has passed but I haven't been able to keep it. Everything is almost a blur to me, the only image in my head is the corpse of my son laying at my feet. Kent takes this moment to correct me.
"Those are all myths that fathers tell their sons to help them sleep at night so in case they die the next day they have some sort of pillow to land on in the process. Smooths the blow to the mind, but when they end up here they curse their father's and spit on their name."
This causes me to stare into the eyes of Kent, this time with no fear, this time with hope and sadness. He takes this moment to burst into laughter.
"Oh you really think he'd end up here?! NO! NO!! No,no,no,no,no,no. HE WAS ONLY A BABY. The young prince would never end up in this place. His mind and soul had not yet fully develop. Thus he was sentenced to Purgatory. Can you imagine the horrors of that place? Nothing but screaming babies and Catholics."
He shudders at the thought and I begin to weep. The tears roll down my face mixing with the blood and washing it away. Kent stops laughing and gets in my face. He quizzically looks at my tears and his crooked smile returns. He licks his lips with his snake-like tongue as it hisses with glee.
"I suggest", He says with much anxiety, "You stop that. The tears only make the skin gain a salty taste. And it is quite delicious, I may not be able to help myself."
His clawed right hand grabs my throat, the point piercing my neck. The pain should be there, but it remains to be unseen for me. I am a broken man. Nothing in this world means anything. I've been taken to this place for God knows what reason after my child was murdered in cold blood. I am to stand judgement for something I have no idea what. Kent...I just want to kill him. Let him die with me if that is the price. I want him to suffer like me, but how can you make a being suffer who loves nothing but. He cracks his neck as he backs away from me and loosens his grip.
"You feel like dying...I can smell death on you. The young prince had to die and you know it. It was his time to go, he had to. You had no wife, she had left you long ago when the child was born. Modern medicine betrayed you as the child you love so much killed her in the end. He was so beautiful, but he looked so much like his mother and that made you angry. You would walk into his room every night to read him your fucked up stories hoping to cause him nightmares. Hoping he'd hate you one day as much as you hated him. You wanted him to suffer for making you suffer. Losing the only person in this world who knew you truly. He was the bastard that should have died and not her. You could have tried for another baby or even adopted, but instead the mother was killed and you were left with him. You've ignored his name this whole time....why won't you say it?"
I won't look at him. I can't look at him.
"Say his name."
I don't want to be here. I just want to leave. Let me go. Let me go. LET ME GO!!!
"SAY HIS NAME!!!!!!"
"KENT."
The name was something I had to ignore for so long. It was embedded in my memory, the only regret I had. The death of innocence, the day I lost mine. He looked like my sweet Violet. He looked so much like her. Why did he look so much like her. Why?!
"You've done something I never thought you'd be able to do. Admit you were wrong. Admit he was your responsibility."
The booming sound of the giant red doors separating overtakes the area. Kent turns with his crooked smile and stares at the cracked open door. He walks to it and opens it more. My reckoning is upon me.
"In you go. Make God have mercy on your soul." He says with his final words to me, a parting gift from him to me. A "good luck" on my long road to Hell. I was ready for it all. He didn't have to grab me, he didn't have to push me nor did he have to attack me. I willingly stood up from my position, handcuffed still, and walked into my judgement. The place I sit right now before you both. Unable to say anything else as to what I am ready to face. This whole time I've been running from myself and what I had done. Pretending I was in a place worse than Hell, coming up with excuse after excuse.
"Knowing what I know now and seeing that I no longer have the will to keep going knowing this I must finally admit it to myself so I may sleep well in my grave....
I killed my own son, Kent."
| The Truth |
"Ladies and Gentlemen, what you are about to see is the on-screen execution of John Smith for the murder of his own son, Kent Smith. John murdered his child on a rainy, summer night just three months ago. Police arrived on the scene when they heard screaming and shouting coming from Mr. Smith's home. Police burst in as they head a gun shot go off. They ascended the stairs and discovered John Smith sitting in his child's room with its dead body laying at his feet, neck cracked, and a gun shot wound to the back of his head. Mr. Smith killed his child and attempted to end his own life, but when he saw the Police he panicked and missed the shot catching the back of his head.
John was arrested and taken away. John was sent to the local jail until he was transported to a more secure location across the town via posse as the only road to the secure location was blocked due to a large collision caused by an ice cream truck crashing into a semi.
After that we do not know. Sense then John has remained at the location until this very moment, ready for his execution John Smith sits in the electric chair watching the clock hoping for a pardon from the Police Chief, but this reporter believes this is the end for the Baby Killer."
| The Madman |
He sits across from me at the interrogation table with a crooked smile that only a mother could love. I am the informed Police Chief here at the New York Police Department. John Smith, convicted of murdering his infant child, has just explained to me his side of things. A story fraught with a break in and a rising action that includes a mythical realm. Why do I always get the insane ones? Is this God punishing me for cheating on my own wife with those women in Queens? It doesn't matter at this point, Smith admitted to what he'd done even with the whole story. I sat here listening because the lawyer stated I had to, but now it just seems a waste.
"You do realize my time has been wasted with this lunatic." I say to the lawyer, Mr. Konnor. He looks at my with disgust at his own dumbass idea as he bangs his head on the table. Mr. Konnor is a young man in his late 20s, new to this whole lawyer thing. The state hired him as John Smith's lawyer, but he never wanted the case. Not one this horrible.
"You're right, I should have known. We've got it all on tape now, John." He tells the killer who nods in agreement. Remorse seems to have left his face completely, the man who was attempting to place the blame elsewhere and make us feel sorry for him as if he were the victim has accepted his fate.
"Good, I'd want nothing less. I am so sorry I talked for as long as I did. You both have been helpful to myself. My mind was so clouded by everything that you all seemed so terrifying to me, but now...now it's different. Konnor's eyes are back to being blue...just like my sons....how I hated those eyes."
This "man" should be killed for what he did. I wish that bullet had gone through his brain instead of missing so closely. I wish he died. I could never imagine killing my own children. I'm fourty-three years old with one sixteen year old girl, two boys at age ten and one more boy at age five. I've cherished watching them grow all these years and now to hear another man hate his own at such a young age...it baffles me.
"Alright, well, that's all we need then. You sir are an evil being that deserves nothing less than the chair, but that it for the courts to decide not myself. Looking at all the evidence against you and now this testimony...you're as good as dead."I let a smile creep over my lips and the killer smiles back.
"Good, let your emotions out Chief. Don't bottle them up or you'll get delusions of grandeur. Maybe then you'll strangle Jennifer...no she is much too old."
How the fuck? At this point he's crossed the line and I hit the table with my fist. Anger erupting from my veins.
"YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! I AM MILES ABOVE YOU!!!"
"Did I strike a cord? You seem to need to relax!! Come on, Bobby and Graham need their daddy to be there for them."
"DO NOT SPEAK THEIR NAMES!! I WANT TO KNOW WHO TOLD YOU THEIR NAMES!" At this point, everything is red. I feel this sensation and grab him by the collar and pull him to me. On my other arm I feel Mr. Konnor pulling me back, but he is much too weak.
"How about we just calm down and go get a vanilla Popsicle for the young little prince, Kevin, it's his favorite."
His head is bashed against the wall and the table is flipped. Konnor is pushed back out of my way as I leave the room. Steam coming from my pores as I burst through the door. The officers watching from the two-way mirror all stare at me in bewilderment. I look at them as if they're idiots, picking sides with a murderer. That's when I hear it.
Laughter.
From behind me I see John Smith sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, blood dripping down his neck, the table broken and overturned near him. He is laughing fully with all his heart. Fear overtakes my anger...this psycho cannot get to me!!! So I run out...fearing for my own sanity as the laughter fills the room and my mind. It would not be some years before he finally left my memories.
| The End |
John Smith sits in the electric chair with his orange jumpsuit. His number imprinted on it. Five slash Five, an odd number to give, but it suited the odd patient. The sponge had been soaked and placed on his head. The officer in the room pushed the cap onto his skull. The priest read him his last rights and blessed him. The people watching behind the mirror studied the madman as his expression remained without remorse. A man who accepted his fate and wanted the sweet embrace of death. His crooked smile would haunt them for years.
The call never came in from the Chief of Police to let him go. He was given special permission by the state to make the call as he knew John more than the others. He visited in prison everyday, something drew him there and he never knew what. The only thing he knew was that he had to die. It was now midnight and the officer in the room nodded across to where the switch was.
John glanced over to see his own killer.
The masked man from before stood before him with hand on the switch. Kent smiled widely, the moment he had been waiting for all along. He opened his mouth and spoke as he pulled the switch.
"Shhh....you'll wake the baby."
THE END
| Final Thoughts |
We have reached the end of our journey. Mystery dies tonight. The next time your hear about me it will be the real me. No masks and no voice boxes. No more secrets. Once I enter that ring you will all know who I am and if things go my way it will be the new King of the XWF. It will be the end of Theo Pryce and the first piece in toppling The Black Circle. They have no opposition but a select few who look to make a name for themselves. Alone I will start at the top and push each and everyone of them down. Pryce, you have not been very vocal against your opponents. You take this moment as something to not worry about and go about your way making fun of Gilmour. Ignore fear all you want, but it's still there. Trying to pretend like this is a walk in the park is not what you should do. Leaving yourself alone is the right option and I say this only because I want a real fight from you not one from a man who is caught off guard. Prepare for anything. Pretend that the man walking out from behind that curtain on Monday Night is your greatest enemy and prepare for that. That is all I ask, because if you can prepare for the person who pushes you to your limit then you can prepare for anything.
John, Tony and Griffin. I wish you all luck in the voting as last I check Griffin and I were tied, so chances are this King match could be triple threat and to that I hope we have a rousing match. Silence has been broken for some of you and for the others I hate to see you close your mouth. There is no more to say to any of you than good luck.
You've all reached the final hour of this form. It's done. Soon you will know the real me and you can wash your hands with this Mystery. Detective Madison can calm himself down at the possibility that I may be Cyren. We can all share a sweet sigh of relief that I am not him, but lest we be certain that I am not somebody worse than Cyren.
What I will say to you all is...that the answer has been in front of you this whole time. Goodnight and sweet sorrow to you all as Mystery dies.
Enter....