Post by The Anarchist on May 27, 2017 10:04:58 GMT -5
Aftermath
Enough was enough.
The outcome was of no concern to me. Each and every one of us walked into that match a champion. Left the match as a champion. Took a beating from one another and in the end, only one could stand tall.
Perhaps another time, Phinehas. Luck was on your side.
What I was sick of was Nathan’s blatant disregard for fair play. I find myself amused anytime outsiders charge, “But Seromine has followers!” as if they act independently of MY orders.
The hatpin. That made twice ole Nathaniel decided to stab me with one. Twice my reality became clouded. If I were the second coming of Samson, you could consider the drugged effect the equivalent of my hair being chopped off.
Nathaniel knew he couldn’t beat me. I had him right where I wanted him and as he is so prone to doing, resorted to cheating. Yet, the faithful seem to love his underhanded tactics.
Enough was enough.
This should have been a night of joy. Brother Gabriel went out and put down Sean. I mean Non Compos Mentis. Advancing to the semi-finals of the Icemann Invitational. The Hobo Horde were an interesting bunch. A pack of vagabonds that in another time, may have found me offering them a new way of life.
Gabriel’s outburst of arson had not gone unnoticed by me, by the way. But such was none of my concern. The inhabitants likely deserved their fate.
Just. Like. Him.
Home – Day
Time had moved on from my latest outing. But my wounds were not healing. Mostly mental, but that match should've been booked as a war. I was fixated on the puncture wound, which by now had all but disappeared. But the mind-my god, the mind does not forget. As I sat outside on the front steps and took in the shadowed rows of orange trees, it made me think back a year to when I first brought my family to this mystical realm.
There was a nasty political race going on and the idea of a Donald Trump Presidency did not sit well with me. I never had a stake in such matters, but my registered party read Democrat. Hillary Clinton was a woman I was not fond of, but the future dictator had to be stopped. Well we all know what happened, don’t we? My children were growing up and the idea of them being in a world of such division frightened me.
So, Destiny and I had a long talk about our options. Anaheim had been our home for years and where all the girls were born and raised. Did we really want to remove them from what they knew? Labyrinth Grove was a stroke of luck in construct. I knew of Nathaniel’s Impossible Staircase. The many doors to their own worlds and of course his land of Balance. Not once did I actually expect to find myself removed from, well, reality, and afforded a place of my own creation. How I wound up there is a secret. The orange groves were to give us a sense of home. The black apple orchards were inspired by Snow White (my two youngest loved all things Disney, go figure) as well as a remembrance of how everything started leading to my return. And rebirth as Seromine. To their credit, the girls adjusted to the unfamiliar, both in terms of location and the strangers (followers) who roamed through the trees. Each one of them were hand picked and offered an opportunity at a new beginning. Destiny and I were no strangers to a world that looked down upon those of us who had personal demons.
Demons. Isn’t that what Nathaniel had called us? His word choice, like the hatpin wound, stuck inside of my memory banks. Right in there with his crucification. Right in there with slamming the coffin door shut on Keliska. Right in there with destroying Andrew D! Right in there…my blood pressure was beginning to heat like volcanic lava. My already sore muscles tightened. I was seeing visions of violent retribution. The same kind of impulses I had upon learning of what my father-in-law did to my eldest.
The same kind of impulses I had towards society for all of their shortcomings. The names. The stares. The threats. The laughter. They thought us the crazies from the looney bin. The trash undeserving of love. The unfortunate who lost what they had and in turn found themselves reduced to the cold, dark, unforgiving spots on the street. The world was a horrible place full of horrible people doing horrible things.
Just like I’m going to do to him, I told myself. Over and over again.
The newest pseudo President hastily decided to have our respective titles unified. Fine. It was of no great deal to me. Win or lose, it put me one-on-one with the very coward who I’ve been chasing from day one. Every single person I defeated in the wake was but a step on MY staircase to getting to him. I heard the vitriol from the mouth of his beloved yet again. She no longer mattered. I was Superman and her lead threats just bounced off my chest, resting on the ground I walk on.
The very ground I planned to put him in, I told myself. Over and over again.
Over and over like rewind I told myself of the biblical levels of violence I was going to bring to Living a Legacy.
But I knew where he would be before then.
“Seromiiine...”
That voice. That chilling call turned my head towards the orchards. I could hear the crackling lumber snapping like bone in the distance. The trees would soon part open to expose a hidden path. The black peels would swirl with ominous lifeforce which sweetened the taste, but made a ghostly sound when you bit into one. And a sickening crunch.
The blue from the sky started to streak and drip as if it were about to rain paint. It was a process that would take some time.
I knew what had to be done.
And after what happened, so did they.
Enough was enough.
The outcome was of no concern to me. Each and every one of us walked into that match a champion. Left the match as a champion. Took a beating from one another and in the end, only one could stand tall.
Perhaps another time, Phinehas. Luck was on your side.
What I was sick of was Nathan’s blatant disregard for fair play. I find myself amused anytime outsiders charge, “But Seromine has followers!” as if they act independently of MY orders.
The hatpin. That made twice ole Nathaniel decided to stab me with one. Twice my reality became clouded. If I were the second coming of Samson, you could consider the drugged effect the equivalent of my hair being chopped off.
Nathaniel knew he couldn’t beat me. I had him right where I wanted him and as he is so prone to doing, resorted to cheating. Yet, the faithful seem to love his underhanded tactics.
Enough was enough.
This should have been a night of joy. Brother Gabriel went out and put down Sean. I mean Non Compos Mentis. Advancing to the semi-finals of the Icemann Invitational. The Hobo Horde were an interesting bunch. A pack of vagabonds that in another time, may have found me offering them a new way of life.
Gabriel’s outburst of arson had not gone unnoticed by me, by the way. But such was none of my concern. The inhabitants likely deserved their fate.
Just. Like. Him.
Home – Day
Time had moved on from my latest outing. But my wounds were not healing. Mostly mental, but that match should've been booked as a war. I was fixated on the puncture wound, which by now had all but disappeared. But the mind-my god, the mind does not forget. As I sat outside on the front steps and took in the shadowed rows of orange trees, it made me think back a year to when I first brought my family to this mystical realm.
There was a nasty political race going on and the idea of a Donald Trump Presidency did not sit well with me. I never had a stake in such matters, but my registered party read Democrat. Hillary Clinton was a woman I was not fond of, but the future dictator had to be stopped. Well we all know what happened, don’t we? My children were growing up and the idea of them being in a world of such division frightened me.
So, Destiny and I had a long talk about our options. Anaheim had been our home for years and where all the girls were born and raised. Did we really want to remove them from what they knew? Labyrinth Grove was a stroke of luck in construct. I knew of Nathaniel’s Impossible Staircase. The many doors to their own worlds and of course his land of Balance. Not once did I actually expect to find myself removed from, well, reality, and afforded a place of my own creation. How I wound up there is a secret. The orange groves were to give us a sense of home. The black apple orchards were inspired by Snow White (my two youngest loved all things Disney, go figure) as well as a remembrance of how everything started leading to my return. And rebirth as Seromine. To their credit, the girls adjusted to the unfamiliar, both in terms of location and the strangers (followers) who roamed through the trees. Each one of them were hand picked and offered an opportunity at a new beginning. Destiny and I were no strangers to a world that looked down upon those of us who had personal demons.
Demons. Isn’t that what Nathaniel had called us? His word choice, like the hatpin wound, stuck inside of my memory banks. Right in there with his crucification. Right in there with slamming the coffin door shut on Keliska. Right in there with destroying Andrew D! Right in there…my blood pressure was beginning to heat like volcanic lava. My already sore muscles tightened. I was seeing visions of violent retribution. The same kind of impulses I had upon learning of what my father-in-law did to my eldest.
The same kind of impulses I had towards society for all of their shortcomings. The names. The stares. The threats. The laughter. They thought us the crazies from the looney bin. The trash undeserving of love. The unfortunate who lost what they had and in turn found themselves reduced to the cold, dark, unforgiving spots on the street. The world was a horrible place full of horrible people doing horrible things.
Just like I’m going to do to him, I told myself. Over and over again.
The newest pseudo President hastily decided to have our respective titles unified. Fine. It was of no great deal to me. Win or lose, it put me one-on-one with the very coward who I’ve been chasing from day one. Every single person I defeated in the wake was but a step on MY staircase to getting to him. I heard the vitriol from the mouth of his beloved yet again. She no longer mattered. I was Superman and her lead threats just bounced off my chest, resting on the ground I walk on.
The very ground I planned to put him in, I told myself. Over and over again.
Over and over like rewind I told myself of the biblical levels of violence I was going to bring to Living a Legacy.
But I knew where he would be before then.
“Seromiiine...”
That voice. That chilling call turned my head towards the orchards. I could hear the crackling lumber snapping like bone in the distance. The trees would soon part open to expose a hidden path. The black peels would swirl with ominous lifeforce which sweetened the taste, but made a ghostly sound when you bit into one. And a sickening crunch.
The blue from the sky started to streak and drip as if it were about to rain paint. It was a process that would take some time.
I knew what had to be done.
And after what happened, so did they.