0001 – Prologue
37 0 2
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

I felt nothing, well not physically that is. The numbness had spread throughout my entire being as I had made the decision to end it all. I had researched various methods, trying to find the most effective one that would ensure a swift and painless death years ago. For what it’s worth, I’m glad I didn’t I would have missed out on so much. I was young and foolish yes, but what we had was real.

The thought of becoming a vegetable terrified me, and I knew that if I was going to go through with this, I’d have to do it properly. So, I had. Even if I had decided not to go through with this, all that would happen is me rotting in a jail cell for a few years. Then coming out and if I hadn’t killed myself then just being resigned to being miserable for the rest of my pitiful existence. At least this way, all the pain will stop.

“I’m sorry.”

I mutter under my breath as I walked down a busy road. Each step feeling heavier than the last. The concoction I had ingested was becoming increasingly prevalent throughout me, and I knew that I was running out of time. I stopped in front of the black and white stripes, contemplating my decision. I heard a siren in the distance, and my head felt fuzzy as the high-pitched sound got closer. They were looking for me.

I promised you I would live, and I did for a while, but not just you but every single person that matters at all to me has been taken. Maybe if an afterlife existed, I could join all of you. If not at least then the pain will go away from missing, you. I know this is selfish, but I don’t care anymore.

I’m done acting how the world expects just because it’s how your meant to. I’m done doing things or people who don’t deserve it. I’m done not trying anymore. I did my best at being what others wanted and look where it got me, everyone I at all cared about dead or not talking to me. Just let me die now and be at peace. Well at least your now avenged Sam.

The red man on the pedestrian signal stood above my head stood steadfast above me, taunting me to cross. I took his advice and began the walk to the end of my pain. My pocket felt heavy with the weight of the note within as I clutched it tightly. A white IVECO was about to pass, and the closer it came the more time seemed to slow down as I took each step.

First step.

Second step.

“Don’t.” came a shout from an older gentleman a few steps behind me, but I was determined to go through with it as he lunged at me. A teenager next to him appeared to either not realise the situation or not care.

Third Step.

The horn of the lorry went into my ear, but I refused to be swayed or coerced from my chosen path.

Fourth Step.

Contact.

All I heard was a thud as my body contacted the metal plate that was the front of the truck. The momentum transferred from the beast into myself, as I felt my arm breaking. Then my shoulder. Then my neck. Then my head. As I slid down, leaving bits of myself behind me, I felt no pain. That was thanks to the Carprofen, Firocoxib, and Meloxicam that now ran through my blood. They were veterinary drugs that I had obtained from a local vet, which was why the sirens were currently chasing me. They were looking for me in particular, but I had managed to evade them.

As my body gave out and I lost all my senses, I realized that the experience lasted longer than I had expected. It was a reminder of just how tough we humans actually are. It’s funny how, now that it’s all over, I finally feel at peace. Not without regrets or wants, but without the desire to do anything or think anything. I felt a slight tingle within me, which grew into a pulse that ran throughout my entire being. It was like I was experiencing a new form of existence.

After a while, I began to feel a warm sensation throughout myself. It felt like a few hours had passed when I felt a slight itch, which persisted until I kicked it away. This happened multiple times, but I tried thinking and realized that I just couldn’t. I felt a squeezing sensation, which grew to the point where I felt like I was about to explode. Then all the pressure was released, and I now felt cold. I cried with all my might, wanting to go back to that warm place where I felt at peace.

As I cried, I felt what was like wet snakes crawling all over me. Then a tingling sensation spread throughout my whole body, and I finally stopped crying after I felt a new warmth. It wasn’t as soothing as the other one, but it was more intense, making me feel loved. If I tried to look, all I could see was a blinding white light, so I decided to clamp my eyes shut.

After a while, I felt the new warmth leaving me. From my newfound peace, I began to stir, but I stopped after a second warmth embraced me. It wasn't as comforting as the first, but it made me feel like I was safe in its embrace. Like I was guarded...

The room was dimly lit, with only a few candles casting flickering shadows on the walls. The air was thick with the smell of blood and sweat, and the sound of a baby's cries echoed through the room. The older lady who had been attending to the mother was now under the covers, holding the new-born boy in her arms.

An older man wearing a light blue robe stepped forward and began to chant. "Benedicta dea prolem et recuperaat mater," he intoned, his voice resonating through the room. A slight glow emanated from his hands as he placed them on the mother's forehead. He had a narrow, pointed face with a sparse but trimmed beard, and his eyes were focused on the task at hand.

The older lady brought the crying child over to a nearby bowl, wearing a red dress with a cream-colored apron that was now stained with blood. Her hair was tied up in a neat white bun, and she took a wet cloth to clean the baby as best she could. She then swaddled the new-born and handed him over to his mother.

Almost instantly, the crying ceased, and the room was filled with a sense of calm. "I bid you farewell," said the older man as he made his way to the door. The older lady bowed in gratitude and respect as he left.

After about twenty minutes, the room was cleaned up, and the door was opened. "My lord, it is now appropriate for you to come in," the older lady said in a humble tone.

The man walked into the room and approached the baby in his mother's arms. He reached out and picked up the new-born, who stirred slightly as he was taken from his mother's embrace but quickly settled down when he was brought to his father's chest. The man looked down at his son with a mixture of love and wonder.

"What did we name this little one, my love?" the man asked his wife, who was pale but lucid.

"I thought we agreed on Lashonda," she whispered, barely audible. "Right, how forgetful of me. My father always said there was a reason I could never have been a mage," the man chuckled.

The older lady, who had been forgotten in the excitement, spoke up. "My lord, may I be excused?"

"Yes, of course, Linda. Thank you for taking care of my wife and son," the man said with a grateful expression. The woman bowed and left the room, carefully closing the door behind her.

The father, who looked to be in his forties, was wearing loosely fitting casual clothes, and his short brown hair was in disarray. His wife looked to be in her thirties, with a wide face and long, flowing caramel hair. She was breathing gently as she dozed off.

The man sat down on the bed next to his wife and muttered in a low tone, "Lashonda Michael ko Belmont Delius. My son, I wonder what the world has in store for you?"

As he looked down at his new-born son, he felt a sense of awe and responsibility. He knew that he had been given a precious gift, and he vowed to do everything in his power to protect and nurture his child. The future was uncertain, but one thing was for sure - he would be there for his son every step of the way.

Sergeant Dallas hung his trench coat on the hook by the door as he entered his home. He turned around and locked it behind him. He was entirely on autopilot at the moment. It was days like these where he lost just a little bit of faith in humanity.

“Hi honey, how was your d… What’s wrong?”

His wife came out of the living room wearing an apron. While he usually cooked, he had told me he would be back late, so she had when she got back before him. She had intended to ask him what had happened that had caused him to be late out of curiosity but had decided just to check on him once she saw the look on his face.

“The… The eyes...”

He said in a trembling voice. She had a look of worry increase in her face as she began to probe for answers.

“What eyes?”

He just turned his head from looking down the hallway to looking her directly in the eyes as he said.

“His Eyes.”

She sat him down as she began to comfort him as he told her what had happened.

“You know those two guy. The one we charged with Sexual Assault and grievous bodily harm a few months ago.”

She had an inkling of who he was on about but didn’t know for sure as he wasn’t allowed to give out names due to the girl’s parents wanting to not have their daughter all over the press.

“Yeah…”

He then continued.

“They got released this morning after the court considered the evidence as inadmissible due to the wrong forms being used when it was all being put into evidence and the lab messing up and accidentally destroying the genetic evidence. We know what he did but there’s now no way of proving it in a court of law.”

She just nodded before asking.

“But why are you so shocked. Because the girl died about two months ago and this morning the guy was killed.”

She just paused for a second before asking.

“By whom?”

"From what I can tell he was the girl’s best friend. Got his hands on a shotgun somehow and blasted both the guys in the faces and stood over them as they died.

She was momentarily shocked, but before she could respond he continued.

“The friend just killed himself and is now smeared along about forty meters of road. I apologize but I can’t get that smell out of my head. I wouldn’t be able to stomach anything.”

He just got up and headed to the shower in hopes of being able to wash of the smell that he couldn’t forget. He knew he was partially responsible for the friend’s death.

 

2