The Massacre, Eric K. Hasler [e book reader for pc TXT] 📗

the flames danced above Frederick was mesmerizing. The crackling noise they made as they danced onto and up the walls was splendiferous. He stood there in awe. His eyes were wide, his mouth hung open, his nose twitched at the gloriousness of the orangey red god that enveloped the whole room as it danced. “What about the wife?” said the voice in a mocking tone, “what about the children?” it asked while laughing, “are you not going to watch them burn as well?”

He decided to take a quick peek at the children’s room, but had a little trouble trying to get there because thick black smoke had managed to take over the top half of the hut, causing him to cough and splutter. He dropped to the floor and sucked in as much of the smokeless air he could and decided to crawl for the door before he suffered the same fate as his victims. He exited the door coughing and spluttering, his eyes were streaming tears, his throat felt as if it was burning, and with each cough and splutter his lungs exhaled smoke. Dizziness encumbered him as he tried to stand and the pit of his stomach started to churn; the dryness of his burning throat became wet with a sweet and sour kind of taste. His eyes were producing more water causing blurry vision, he became hot and began to sweat; then it all came together as one, he vomited a whitish grey liquid which burned his mouth and throat and cramped his stomach. The smell of the puke puddle caused the whole sensation to happen again, and again, but produced less vomit with each time, which caused the inside of his throat to feel like it had been slashed a hundred times with a red hot dagger. With his throat and stomach aching and cramping, he managed to slowly climb to his feet, while wiping the ash filled tears from his checks with his left hand, and the remaining vomit from his lips with his right hand he looked up at the moon which was beginning its descent into the western abyss. The colour of the sky was transforming in the east from a hazy dark grey-blue into a lustrous orange-white while a remnant of darkness was reluctantly retreating from the domination it use to hold in the west. “Sunrise,” he said with a dry croak, “the villagers will wake soon.” As he was stumbling through the street he could not help but feel at ease with what he had done. ‘The sense of release is incredible,’ he thought to himself as the mysterious sensation he first felt when he had stood at the edge of the village enveloped him. However, this time the sensation was not frightening, it felt liberating. ‘It’s finally over,’ he thought as he turned back to have a last look at the village. He smiled as Frederick’s hut became completely engulfed by flames. The fire crackled, danced and then jumped to the next hut. Semjaza marvelled at the beauty of the orange god as it started on the path to devour everything in its way. Black smoke was rising fast and invading the freshness of what was fast becoming the morning air with a pungent stench that would very soon stink out all things in the village and those on the outskirts. “It’s time to leave,” said the voice. “Yes,” he said, “it’s time to leave forever.” He walked to the edge of the village smiling, called his horse, mounted the animal and headed north.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~ 10 ~

 

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Publication Date: 08-01-2014

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