Post by Bishop on Oct 16, 2014 0:19:38 GMT -6
**************************ORIGINALLY POSTED IN STATIC WRESTLING**************************
“You have located him?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Call me Bishop, for this day we are all equal in our retribution. Is everything prepared?”
“We had a bit of a problem with some of the gauges, so you might have to speed up the exit a bit more than you thought.”
“It will suffice.”
“If you feel any pain, know that you lack my apologies.”
Alec squints his eyes, trying to regain his focus in the dimly lit room. He quickly jolts awake, having seized unto memory of the previous hours. The blurred images of people and objects flow through his mind, the amnesia of trauma having taken hold. He looks around at the room, which, reminiscent of the old sewer junctions that exist underneath the city, is walled with rusted pipes and broken stained tiles. The filth of rats and other vermin span the length of the room, excreting a stench nigh too strong to breath. His panning gaze leads him to contact with a presence that burns his blood, whilst chilling his spine.
“Is this not what you wanted? To find me? Well…now you have me.” Bishop motions to Alec’s wrists and legs, drawing his attention to the complete lack of restraints…no chains, no ropes, simply a beaten body sitting cross legged on the floor.
“Everything you have thrown your life away for, stands before you now. Do you not wish to kill me?”
Alec opens his mouth, readying his emotions, transforming them into the words he has wanted to bring voice to for weeks…only to find silence. A silence…followed by pain. Bring his hands to his throat, his fingers run along his skin to the surface of a hole. Metallic and small, the implant leads into the contents of his throat, preventing the vibration of his vocal cords, and forever silencing him.
“Advanced surgical precision. The embrace of science giving new life to religion, one of the more progressive ideas existing in the world to date.” Bishop explains, his words indicating no cold demeanor, however, saying them in the face of the growing horror befalling Alec made them seem much…much more frigid.
“The ability to speak. The gift of voice bestowed upon you by The Lord, forever taken from you.” Alec begins the motions of screams…terrified…excruciating screams of a violated human. No sound, only tears of anger; tears of fear."
“The order, came from your gift of speech, the killing of innocent people was endorse by the voice you will never hear again.” Bishop walks over to Alec, kneeling in front of the tortured face, writhing before him. “I see your face, day after day. The same frightened cameraman that first spoke to me, the same man that once held fear for our brothers. That man is gone, is he not, Alec? Yes, the man I see before me has killed him.”
“For what?”
Alec’s subsides his struggling, and looks into Bishop’s eyes, shock in the onset stages.
“Look at me, your self-proclaimed enemy. Look into my eyes and see everything you wish upon me, every molecule of suffering, and every drop of blood you wish to see spilled from my body. Look upon me, and know that you will never fulfill such fantasies. You lack the conviction, the ability to become…the creature you need to be to succeed.”
Bishop extends his arms out fully, and closes his eyes. “Do to me what you desire Alec. Do to me what you are able.” After a moment, Bishop opens his eyes, staring into Alec’s eyes. Watching his reflections in the tears brimming them.
“You see, distance granted you detachment. Detachment, gave you the strength needed to spew commands. I have taken the distance, I have taken the commands, and now…you are nothing.”
Bishop stands up backing slowly away from the crumpled body sitting before him, sweating and shaking with the gravity of the reality he is in. Bishop walks just outside of the door way of the room, closing a protective screen used to seal the door.
“Memories are a cage, and now…you will see the strength of the bars I have laid for you.” Turning a dial, liquid begins to spray from the ceiling sprinkler systems. The stench of animal waste is replaced with the industrial smell of gasoline, raining down from the pipes above.
“You are a victim, like so many others before you. My heart is broken at the sight of you, a gift from The Lord, and a light in the dark universe that was made to shine among the stars. The purpose, you, and too many others have forsaken. When my heart breaks, the pieces do not wither and die, leaving me to my own pity. They become as steel, piercing the body around them, causing pain. Pain that can only be sated by service towards the purpose laid before me.”
The floor in the tunnel Bishop stands in, is lower than the floor of the junction Alec sits in. The gasoline flowing from the other room begins to wash out of the room and into the hallway. Bishop begins to back away further as its surround his feet, turning to the side as he walks. As he turns, he revealed the small, pale, and innocent face of Annabelle, lit only by a small candle she is holding.
“Now you are aware, you see the world has finished its trials, and you have become the man you chose to become. Say your goodbyes, to the one person that would have cared.”Alec expression changes at the command to speak, one last time to the daughter his world revolved around. The love that he had raised from birth, taught to walk, to speak. Her entrance into the world gave him meaning, the life he held in his hands…so fragile and meek…was the love he created. Promises of a future, of a life worth living…all abandoned.
The embodiment of purity that he loved with all of his heart. The eyes that he looked upon as an infant, so full of hope and happiness, now blackened and cold. His mind played memories, faint recollections of his short time with his daughter. Annabelle, the last benevolent thing in his life, the daughter he walked to school, the love he abandoned when she was too young to be lied to…now His mind broke over the reflection of the betrayal he had performed. His reason for life, his light, was now his bane.
Annabelle places the candle on the floor, as the gasoline flowed around its base. She looked through the screen to her broken father in the next room, and saw the face of Mary in his eyes. The small life she saw taken from her, at the order of her father. With the same expression, void of emotion or feeling, she turned…and walked away. Bishop followed, closing an industrial door at the end of the hallway. Forever sealing Alec away, alone with only his fate, and ultimate judgment.
Alec’s eyes are absent tears, his body unable to focus upon the emotions clearly enough to process making them. Shock now setting in, his gaze meets the candle, the sole light in the tunnel. His light, his Belle, his last dying memory grows brighter in his mind. The light reaching for him, becoming brighter and brighter as the gasoline meets the flames. His final embrace with the warmth Annabelle represented would be met, as his flesh peeled away from his body. Burning the creator, and the destroyer of innocence.
A voice is heard before the end, a faint memory…a small reminder…
“I love you Daddy.”
“I love you too, Belle…forever and always.”
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
“Of course Sweety, I’ll always be here.”