Vengeance, Jack A. Ling [read this if .TXT] 📗
- Author: Jack A. Ling
Book online «Vengeance, Jack A. Ling [read this if .TXT] 📗». Author Jack A. Ling
The trail to the Arbor now looking as horrid and crooked as ever, Rodrigo Diaz and Noah Owenson started to trot towards the café where madness was sure to arise. In comparison to the desolate way, the trail appeared to be a cake walk; sunlight broke through the trees above, the ground was home to fauna, and several blue-colored Jays flew through the canopy of the trees. Truly an enigma of Tallenport. But even as the more relaxed setting surrounded them, Rodrigo and Noah’s hearts only began to pulse even harder. This had eventually quickened their trotting to an uneasy jog.
“So what in the hell was that all about?” Rodrigo called, shaking and shivering. The account with the old man (or whatever he was) had only just set in, but what worried Rodrigo was what the man had said to his friend: ‘You are blessed, my boy’.
“How should I know?” Noah responded with a slight array of anger in his tone. For why would he know anything of what just happened? The fear and anger with the whole situation just taunted Noah. And so the question arose to himself: could this involve his friend’s mother?
“I don’t know, man. It’s just,” Rodrigo paused and began to pick up speed. “The old man targeted you by name, and I don’t know who he is; so I’m just confused.”
“I know the same bit as you do. And that doesn’t say much,” Noah matched his friend’s speed and looked towards his sprinting feet. “I just want to get to the bottom of this nonsense.”
And as those words came out of his mouth, Noah finally stared forward just in time to halt his velocity prior to running into the intersection. Several large trucks flashed by as Noah and Rodrigo stared towards the Arbor which was just across the street.
As the door to the Arbor slowly creaked open, the eyes of each and every individual inside (approximately four) locked upon the door. The café was newer than most of the buildings in Tallenport, but the atmosphere within resembled that of a much older one. There were exactly seven booths within, but no more than five were ever in use. Three large wooden barrels of ‘drink’ existed behind the counter, but (yet again) only two were used. With much curiosity, several people wondered why the useless specimens within the bar. Only twelve people would ever find out.
“Boys!” a taller man with a big belly boomed from behind the counter whilst pouring a drink. Aside from the enormous stomach, the most noticeable feature of the man was an elongated scar which ran from his cheek to the opposite side under his fat neck. “Welcome back!”
“Emilio!” the boys announced in unison as the charged towards the bar seats in front.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Emilio smiled. The boys and Emilio had a more friendly relationship than either party had with anybody in Tallenport. Constantly coming in to the bar throughout the summers, Noah and Rodrigo had learned a lot from Emilio and his patrons such as speaking Italian and even picking locks.
“We have business across the street, but we saw no reason to ignore a quick visit!” the smiles upon their faces consumed a majority of will in order to hide their worry.
“Business?” Emilio projected a blank stare out the front door. “Sounds serious,” he blinked and forced a smile.
“It’s complicated. You don’t want to know,” Rodrigo asserted.
“I’m sure I don’t,” Emilio boomed an earthshattering laugh. “But can I do anything for you while you’re here?”
“We are on a tight schedule, but how about a quick tale from your arsenal?” Noah suggested with a look of both gluttony and worry. He knew they had to get to Wessington, but had no interest in worrying Emilio.”
“Well let’s see . . .” Emilio began to conjure up a tale. But even as he thought, something much more sinister was unfolding.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Seven days of woe. Seven days of fortitude. Seven days to end the world. Nobody would tell it was their own blight and ignorance which would result in their own demise. Society must fall in order for us to rise. Death gives light to new beginnings,” the hooded preacher stared into the crowd.
“Death gives light to new beginnings,” a droned crowd of voices repeated with exactness in tone so tuned, it was as though one voice called in many different accents.
“The obligations of the above tear through their own fabric of life; they give up their freedom to give way for an indestructible Sovereign. This Sovereign will end human free will for all of eternity.”
“All of eternity.”
“In time, we shall rise to purge the universe of its sinful anguish. The universe shall finally be free,” the preacher rose his head to the top of darkness-shrouded room, allowing his head to hang back.
“Free,” the crowd repeated again raising their arms to a gentle parallel.
“And once the Waters of the Earth are freed, the evolution of man shall truly begin.”
“Begin!” the crowd began an animal-like uproar; but, they did not move their arms a single micrometer.
“The Great Avenger looks upon each and every one of us here assembled. He watches. He waits. He appreciates. From here to the end, every action of every individual is of the highest importance. Even the slightest mistake shall be our demise, and, subsequently, the demise of humanity. If you shan’t take upon this burden with all of your will and might, leave. Now.”
And as the preacher demanded, the weak-willed and weak-minded expelled themselves from the room. By taking sharpened ebony blades to their own throats, the few (about fifteen percent of the men and women) took their own lives, but they enjoyed every moment of it.
“Good,” the preacher began. “And to the rest of you.”
The majority remaining simply stood and stared with a focus unlike anything else upon the hooded preacher.
“Welcome to the Inner Sanctum!” the preacher turned, messed with some unseen objects behind him, and, suddenly, the large statue of an unknown deity behind him folded into halves. After several seconds of this, a fine mist rose from behind him, and he led his followers into the new room which had just opened. “Welcome to your first gift.”
And as this happened, the boys, Rodrigo and Noah, opened the doors to the café, waved a goodbye to Emilio, and sprinted towards Wessington. The evolution of man had come to its open.
Publication Date: 01-13-2013
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