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Great Buzzard Eli James IV · (09-10-2023)

The area was dense with a thick canopy of trees blanketing the world, protected in a shadowy tapestry. The only break in the wrapping darkness was the delicate sprinkle of starlight filtering through the gaps in the branches. The wind pushed the trees to dance and would rustle the drying leaves. They were ushering in the fall season and announcing the end of summer. It was the right time for the familiar voice that once filled the sea of wanderers of the XWF to ease back into their inner ears.

Looking around, every shadow seemed to move, every sound seemed to tell a story. The distant howl of a wolf, mournful and lonely, bounced from all directions. A group of owls, hidden high up in the branches, sent down a series of enigmatic hoots, as though conversing with spirits only it could see.

The ground, damp and cold, was becoming littered with a carpet of fallen leaves, twigs, and grass. Each step taken felt uncertain, the earth beneath shifting slightly, almost urging any traveler to tread lightly or risk awakening what lay beneath.

Amidst the tangible sense of unease, a glimmer of light beckoned in the distance. A song from a raspy and low-toned voice rang. It, or they, was out of place against the backdrop of the woods. The figure was a 2023 CGI effect seen in a 1980s film -- it just didn't fit. Drawing closer, it became evident that the source of the light and song was positioned next to an ancient tree. The tree's branches flowed in a downward spiral like they were a giant umbrella covering whoever would rest underneath, protecting and covering with its wings of shelter. The branches seemed to reach out and caress the faint glow.

A man sat there. The wooden chair he rocked in creaked rhythmically, adding to the symphony of the night. His long, unkempt hair cascaded around a face lined with stories of years gone by, and a beard that seemed to hold secrets of its own. In his hand, a lantern, its flame dancing and flickering, casting shadows upon his features.

His attire was in strange proximity to the environment – dirty white pants that had seen better days with stains and fresh dirt, a vibrant Hawaiian shirt that looked out of place in this setting, and atop his head, a black fedora, casting a deeper shadow across his eyes.

His presence was both calming and unsettling. It was the mysterious Eli James IV. Why was he here? Why did he return? Did he come to continue the story he was telling for so many years? Or was he lost, looking for a flicker of hope amidst the vastness of darkness he had proclaimed too many times?

"Why am I back in your eyes? Why do your ears hear my words once more? The riddle is in my final song.

Theodore. Ya' mind if I call you that? That name fits you, man. I'll be honest, as I've always been, I don't know what's really happened around here in the last several years. Truth is, I never thought I'd come back as my journey was leading me into a different realm. Something many never understand. Ya see Theodore, there are so many people that like to live in the past. Not only live in the past but cling to it, clenching it as if it were that treasure chest pirates are always hunting for. The idea of how it used to be starts to send electric waves in their minds. Their imagination starts to build a world mixed with reality and fairy tales. People who live in the past thrive there because it's mostly the good times they remember. 'Remember all those nights of being drunk and passing out? Good times' they would say and forget that Bryan is spending time behind bars from that DUI, or Tyler is needing a liver transplant because of those drunken nights. And the villains? Heh. The villains in their past life are usually everyone but themselves. Sure, they'll admit some mistakes but it brought them to become better individuals. But they aren't the villain. Then some of their stories get mixed in with how see it in hindsight, not how it actually felt in the moment. It's all one big lie.

Eli sets the lantern down and leans forward.

I left this place. I don't live in the past. It's a waste of breath. Those that live in the past will never arrive in the present and plan for something great. Their present is always a shell of the past.

If ya think about jobs. Heh. There are those that work for the same company for 30 years. They label that as loyalty. That's how they present it to all of us. 'Loyalty goes far'. Working for the same place, doing the same thing, and being a doormat for the boss for 30 years isn't a game of loyalty but a game of foolishness. They don't want to go explore. They fear the unknown journey. Instead of seeing what's out there, they'll play the game and stay in their cage. 'Don't fly little bird. There's nothing out there but death and destruction. You'll have to hunt for food, but here you'll get it every day. Out there you'll face bigger birds and creatures that want to feed off you. You'll have to dodge guns and airplanes and helicopters. You'll have to run when the weather gets too cold. But not here. Every morning your belly will be full. Every night you'll see me, your friend. I'll clean your cage. I'll take care of you. And when you do get the itch to fly, I'll open that door and let you roam around the house -- doors and windows closed of course. You'll live a good life.'

Now I talk about the past only to bring it to a point. But I'm not like the others that hide from the bad and conjure lies to make me the hero in waiting. I'm not the hero nor am I the villain. I'm the harmony in the soul. I'm the word that you need to express your emotions in just the right way, at the right time. I'm the mystery you try to solve but really don't want the reveal. Ya' see... I became the unwrapped present on Christmas morning to many. They thought they were ready for the surprise to end. I took so many and built a group that trusts, but in the end, they were all weak. They weren't let down at the finding, but they were not ready to understand what to do with the gold that glistened in their hearts. Their weakness didn't reveal a failure in me. They fell like pawns in a game full of kings and queens. Their weakness revealed their failures and put a spotlight on who they really were: lost souls who wanted to stay lost.

I told everyone about the past regime and that it would all fall upon their heads. I tried to lead everyone into a better world, a better place, and told you that I would be willing to be the sacrifice. Now, Theodore, my sacrifice was not in vain and every word I spoke came true. Heh. Everyone thought I was a liar. Everyone thought I was a con man that was just another 'religious nut'. You, Theodore, knew that all I asked was for everyone who heard my words to write them down and test them in the end. Fast-forward and every.. single.. one came true.

Though I lurked in the shadows and was moved into a myth with legend status, I was just waiting for someone to call on me. I just wanted to hear someone finally have the foundation to stand on and announce that Eli James was right. I could list all those names... I could play back all those videos and share all the words I spoke... but instead, I will let that rest on the pages of history. And perhaps one day, someone will come along and find that book, dust it off, and read life.

He reaches down, grabs the lantern, and stands up. The flickering light moves the shadows slightly off his face.

"Now that we're all caught up, let's talk now. Let's talk reality. Let's feed those little souls beggin' for bread...

There's a strange concept that death lies in the darkness. Put a man in a mask that's cursed beyond the grave, or usher out a monster where the flesh has been torn from the creates in the dirt, play some slow temp sounds and people start to feel fear. That, my friends, breeds the idea of death.. because nobody sees the moment after the breath has completed its cycle. But out here, if ya listen real close, you'll hear somethin'...

Eli places his index finger on his lips, signaling for all who understand to be quiet. Owl's. Wolves. Crickets.

"Ya hear that? That's the sound of life. People are afraid of the dark because they don't understand it. My friends, you don't need to fear the darkness. You don't need to fear death. You only need to fear one that can remove the body and the memory of the fallen. Don't let the thoughts that once rented its space upon pages, websites, and stories shared through time; be the one that vanishes in body but continues on through words.

Eli hesitated for a second and came to a halt. With a deep, shuddering breath, he moved, his foot landing on the board with a groan of old, tortured wood.

The lantern's pale glow barely punctured the inky blackness, but it did just enough. The steps emerged from the dark, each looking like the ancient, rotted jawbone of some great beast. Eli’s every step seemed like a trespass, an affront to whatever spirits still lingered here.

Skirting the perimeter of the porch, he finally dropped into another chair, its wood groaning under his weight, as if exhausted from the years of neglect.

From within the broken home, strange, guttural murmurs vibrated through the stagnant air. Were they voices? They coiled and intertwined, rising and falling, weaving a group of chants that seemed less like words and more like the cries of trapped souls, yearning for release. And Eli sat, grinning, used to the sounds.

"That's where they are. That's where they'll stay until I release them. Perhaps they'll stay as myths and legends told, or maybe they'll go away as a never-told story. Theodore, I wonder which one you'll decide to be part of? Heh. You, and everyone else, will arrive. It's as concrete as death. But next is where you decide... just remember my words...

I told ya so...hehehe...

Find me, if you can.

He blows the lantern out.

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