So cleaning my room and reducing some paper clutter I stumbled on this poem I drafted about a winter youth retreat a few years back.
A Collision on 5 Bases
Out after out and run after run
All would agree, we were having so much fun.
Who knew late in the game a play would occur
Which would have us laughing out loud for sure.
You see, the red ball ascended high into the air quite forcefully
And those who stood on base proceeded prematurely.
Into the arms of a fielder that red ball did land,
Forcing those on base to return to places unplanned.
For one there was no doubt on base she would stay.
No one would stand in her way.
Full speed ahead she ran toward her target.
To miss this next play would surely be a regret.
With eyes set on her mark she saw the great need
To lower her shoulder and pick up some speed.
From the corner of his eye the situation he saw,
He knew the red ball would be the one to lay down the law.
He took a firm stance and braced himself for the hit
But the red ball would be late and the out would not...sit.
A quick decision had to be made,
For he could not just let this opportunity fade.
At the moment of impact he threw himself theatrically to the snow,
It was the time to put on a show.
Safe at second was the verdict that came in.
Fair enough he thought to himself while rubbing his chin
Because it was worthy of the scene it had made.
'Tis a shame the event was not recorded, for a later date to be replayed.
Friday, December 02, 2011
Monday, November 29, 2010
And Again I Say Rejoice
Psalm 100
1 Make a joyful shout to the LORD, all you lands!
2 Serve the LORD with gladness; come before His presence with singing.
3 Know that the LORD, He is God; it is He who has made us, and not we ourselves; we are His people and the sheep of His pasture.
4 Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, and into His courts with praise. Be thankful to Him, and bless His name.
5 For the LORD is good; His mercy is everlasting, and His truth endures to all generations.
1 Make a joyful shout to the LORD, all you lands!
2 Serve the LORD with gladness; come before His presence with singing.
3 Know that the LORD, He is God; it is He who has made us, and not we ourselves; we are His people and the sheep of His pasture.
4 Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, and into His courts with praise. Be thankful to Him, and bless His name.
5 For the LORD is good; His mercy is everlasting, and His truth endures to all generations.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
In You, O Lord, I'm trusting
Psalm 31:9-16
9 Have mercy on me, O LORD, for I am in trouble; My eye wastes away with grief, Yes, my soul and my body!
10 For my life is spent with grief, And my years with sighing; My strength fails because of my iniquity, And my bones waste away.
11 I am a reproach among all my enemies, But especially among my neighbors, And am repulsive to my acquaintances; Those who see me outside flee from me.
12 I am forgotten like a dead man, out of mind; I am like a broken vessel.
13 For I hear the slander of many; Fear is on every side; While they take counsel together against me, They scheme to take away my life.
14 But as for me, I trust in You, O LORD; I say, “You are my God.”
15 My times are in Your hand; Deliver me from the hand of my enemies, And from those who persecute me.
16 Make Your face shine upon Your servant; Save me for Your mercies’ sake.
9 Have mercy on me, O LORD, for I am in trouble; My eye wastes away with grief, Yes, my soul and my body!
10 For my life is spent with grief, And my years with sighing; My strength fails because of my iniquity, And my bones waste away.
11 I am a reproach among all my enemies, But especially among my neighbors, And am repulsive to my acquaintances; Those who see me outside flee from me.
12 I am forgotten like a dead man, out of mind; I am like a broken vessel.
13 For I hear the slander of many; Fear is on every side; While they take counsel together against me, They scheme to take away my life.
14 But as for me, I trust in You, O LORD; I say, “You are my God.”
15 My times are in Your hand; Deliver me from the hand of my enemies, And from those who persecute me.
16 Make Your face shine upon Your servant; Save me for Your mercies’ sake.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
So Sacrifice Yourself
Rook stumbled forward willing himself to push on through the hallway to his final destination. The surroundings were all too familiar to him. For several months before the prisoner riots he had patrolled these halls nightly to make sure all was in order. The cells he had been placed in were minimum security. They were easier to access, and most of the non dangerous prisoners had been place in here. On the opposite side of the compound the hi risk prisoners were held several stories underground and the ways in and out were more harder to break out of.
Somehow one of the high risk prisoners had broken free and was able to release many of the more dangerous prisoners. No one truthfully knew how the riot started. Rook’s best guess was that someone or a group of people were in league with the prisoners. To make matters worse, an electrical failure occurred the same night as the riot broke out. The main generator and the backup generator had somehow been hit simultaneously. The situation reeked of foul-play. Without camera any number of people could have walked right into the facility and the warden and the guards would never have known the difference. It did not help that all the eyewitness to the riot were unaccounted for and probably dead.
To make matters worse, the enemy had hunkered down inside the maximum security wing of the prison. Lieutenant Smetana originally attempted a full on assault of the prison wing. Unfortunately the prisoners had many of the guard’s weapons and they were starting to use the abilities that had manifested as a result of being sent to this prison.
Rook caught himself as he stumbled to the ground from exhaustion. He attempted to push himself up from the kneeling position but was not nearly quick enough for the guard escorting him to whoever the master was. The man’s boot caught him square in the ribs and sent him skidding several feet away. Lying on the ground he got a good look at the guard. Chuck Rainer was an extremely large white man his neck and arms were covered in all sorts of tattoos. Chuck had originally been a very large man, but it was said that during his time on death row he decided to take the time to exercise every spare minute he had to pass the time. This had continued on ever after he had been “executed”.
“Get up off the floor, and walk,” said Chuck as he grabbed hold of Rook’s arm and lifted to him to his feet. “The master does not have any time to waste.”
“Yes sir, mister prisoner sir,” Rook shot off and then realized that probably had not been the best thing to say.
Chuck’s fist slammed down on his shoulder and sent him back to the ground in a heap. His fist felt like a solid hammer. “Not exactly the situation to be mouthing off in funny man. Open that bloody mouth of your one more time and you might be crawling into the master’s chambers.”
Rook rose to his feet without a word but caught Chuck’s eyes and starred him down. Right before he turned to move on, he hacked a loogie directly in Chuck’s face. This turned out to be a bad idea once again. Chuck moved fast and landed a punch directly in Rook’s stomach.
“Is that all you got, redneck?” Rook said.
Chucks eyes told Rook all he needed to know. The man’s anger was at the breaking point. He was already getting under the man’s skin. Of course he paid dearly for that comment. Chuck’s foot once again landed across his ribs and sent him flying to the ground. This time Chuck ran over to him and grabbed him by the front of his uniform. Rook smiled one more time as he spat blood directly in the man’s eyes.
Well at least I will not go down without a fight. Keep smiling through the pain and he will be livid.
Chuck wiped the blood from his eyes with his right sleeve. Then stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a pair of brass knuckles. He placed them on his fingers and pulled his arm back for his strike. This…is going to hurt. Chuck’s fist landed square in Rook’s face causing him to black out.
***
Rook woke up lying face down in a pool of his own blood. His ears rang as if he had taken the concussion of a motor round directly in his face. His eyes watered and he could not clearly. The room spun around him as he pushed himself up to his knees. He ran his hands over his face to see what kind of damage he had suffered. His nose was broken and blood was spilling out of it. Other than that the rest of his face was intact.
Rook heard Chuck arguing with a man in the distance. It seemed like “the master” did not like the condition Chuck had brought him in. He shifted his head about trying to get an idea of where he was. A large room with white walls is about the only thing he could recognize. That meant he was in the maximum security lunch room. It was the only room in this wing that of this size.
“Shut your stupid pie hole and give the man a break,” Rook yelled as loud as he could. “I would have done the exact same thing had I had to put up with a lousy punk prisoner.”
“Well well, it looks like you do have a bit of a smart mouth to you,” replied the voice.
“Yah think,” replied Rook. “I think I have bad timing. Come over here and I will spit in your face too.” The man’s voice sounded familiar, but he could not quite put a name to the voice. Hopefully his eyesight would clear up a little so he could know who he was dealing with.
“I would not press your luck,” replied the voice. “I am a reasonable man most of the time.”
“Ok, let’s talk like reasonable men. I assume you reasonably let Rendell to an inch of his life, and reasonably lead the charge that killed a good many of the guards working the maximum security wing of this prison?”
“It is a tragedy I will give you that, but it was of utmost importance. A few casualties are always the cost when a new power must take over. As for your friend, well I put him out of his misery. He will not have to suffer anymore.”
The man hit a soft spot in Rook with his words. A mixed emotion of sorrow and joy washed over him. It was never easy when your men died, but at least he was not in pain. Compose yourself Rook. Show no emotion. This is not the time to be weak. That can wait for later. “So you must be an ‘end justifies the means’ type of guy.”
“It is one of the ways to live, although I also believe in an eye for an eye. One of my men was able to put a knife in the back of Gerald Dain. It seems that your lieutenant just so happened to enter the room at the same time. He was able to subdue my man raise an alarm. My other eyes and ears told me the following interrogations was one of the most brutal he had ever seen. It only seemed right to return the favor with Rendell. I would assume Smetana is just now receiving the CD detailing Rendell’s experience.
Rook shook his head. That is the reason his teams force-fields had faltered. Dain had been the man protecting them. It also gave proof to his theory that several of those helping them were not true friends. Would this man really give up one of his spies so a CD of Rendell’s beating could be delivered back to Smetana?
“Of course now that I have my two of my eyes and ears in your camp I will have to scout some other way. It is a shame, but I figure it is for the best. Smetana’s will need to be broken. He is the only one holding together the resistance. As soon as he is out of the way my plan can move forward.”
Rook laughed a bit too loud. “I have been with Smetana for the last three years. I can recount many stories are unit has been through. I wish you the very best in your endeavors. I only wish I could see the day when Smetana breaks your neck with his foot.”
“Oh no that is where you are mistaken. You see I have read his files. All commanders have a weakness. I plan to exploit his and use it to my advantage. “
Rooks eyes began to focus. He had guessed right about the lunch room as being their location. The tables around the east side of the room had been shifted back to give a makeshift stage. The man in-front of him sat in a comfortable office chair that had been rolled in to the room. The man was wearing one of the guard’s uniforms, and he held in his hand a samurai sword. This guy is trying to make himself look like a king. Rook used all his strength to focus on the man’s face.
The man had black hair and an elongated face. The uniform he was wearing made him look even smaller than he really was. “Richard Spence, how in the world did a runt like you become the leader of this operation? Seriously, you are no bigger than me, and as we all know Chuck here can give me a royal beating. “
“It is not my size that matters, but the people you know and the tools you hold. I have been waiting for this moment for a very long time. Several years of planning were required to get me here to the place I am not. I have a long time friend who made all of this happen, it was a shame he wanted to run the operation, but a deal is a deal. Brilliant man, but now I have put him in his place; he is no longer half as brilliant as he once was. Roger will still make a valuable secretary.”
Roger Kirkland? He was one of the men responsible for this facility and one of the minds behind the technology used to “execute” death row prisoners and bring them here. I had shared lunch with the man on many different occasions. He could have fooled me, but also seems like he fooled everybody. “I would assume why you have control of the sword you are holding. My guess is it is the one referred to as the obliterator, correct?” said Rook.
“Well it looks like someone has been engaging in a bit of studying,” replied Richard. “I knew I wasn’t wasting my time talking to you. It looks as if you might be useful to me after all.”
“Sure thing Richie, but you are going to have to step in line, cause I am sort of busy right now in my cell.” Again probably not the best course of action to take, but at least I got a laugh out of Chuck.
“Sergeant Daniel Kilbourne, mock me as much as you want. But know this, I have the power to reward you heavily and I also have the ability to make you die a slow and painful death.”
“Terribly sorry Richie, I didn’t realize you were heartless. All this time I thought you were a reasonable man.”
“I am a reasonable man. I will show you my reason now. I am willing to release you for a small price from Smetana. I need the remaining swords that are used in the ceremonial executions. If I get a hold of these then I will release you and all of your friends and allow them to leave my island.”
“You want the remaining ceremonial swords? Well then it looks like you are reasonable, heartless and a complete idiot. Chuck, tell Richie that I am done talking with him.”
“You misunderstood my words for kindness, I…”
“Nope, I fully understand. By the way Chuck, instead of kicking people in the chest when they are down, you should try taking their feet from under them while their still standing. You are a big guy but I have seen your speed and it pretty much good for a man your size.”
Rook look at Richard from the corner of his eye. The man was still calm. He would have to really find a nerve. According to the file he had read, Richard was extremely arrogant. All his life he had wanted to be the center of attention. It all seemed to becoming together. The years of planning must have been to get him here with a good amount of power behind him. Rook seemed to recall that Richard had started killing about a year before this project started. That would put it about the same time the ceremonial swords had become fully operational. It also explained why Richard had turned himself in to the Police with all the evidence of the murders. The man had even had plead guilty and asked for the death sentence. Maybe not acknowledging his presence would drive him mad. It was worth a shot, especially since Smetana had already destroyed the seven remaining ceremonial swords.
“I would let you demonstrate on me but unfortunately I have not the ability to stand,” said Rook. “So instead let me just ask you what kind of ability you happened to pick up when the sent you here?”
Chuck looked as about as confused as a man could be. He look at Richard and then back at him. He opened his mouth as if he were going to speak and then closed it up again. It looked like he was making sure that he would not incur the wrath of Richard. His expression showed Rook that Richard had done something to inspire a state of fear into his men.
“Seriously, because whatever your ability is, it is probably ten times cooler that little man's over here. “Plus you are a really big guy; you could probably take that silly little sword away from Mr. Inept with your bear hands. Look at the man he is a scrawny little twig of a man,” said Rook
“Silence Daniel, we have had enough of your lip. I told you once before, I do not anger easily,” replied Richard.
“I would have to disagree. Chuck, from the way you hold yourself it looks like Richie has a very bad temper. You would not want to say the wrong word and find yourself sitting here in my position would you? Or maybe you would find yourself in Roger’s position. Being forced to scurry around with you head down like an inferior man. No Chuck, you are a man of honor being used as a tool by this scared little man. I read your file, it seems like you were wrongfully accused of killing a cop. Those sentences are hard because the judges just will not see reason.
“If I were a beating man I would have to say that you got the short end of the stick. The jury was handed a fraction of the evidence required to make an honest decision. Don’t you find if funny that the video tape somehow was never retrieved? “
Rook could tell his plan of action was working. Richard was starting to come unraveled. Sure he was trying to play it off as if it was nothing, but the man had started nervously moving his sword around in his hands. It would only be a matter of time before Richard snapped. In all likelihood he was already a dead man. If in his final moment he could create a riff between Richard and some of his men maybe it would give Smetana a fighting chance to be able to quell this rebellion.
“Besides, you don’t look like the type of person that would actually be able to kill a person. I saw the way you beat down Rendell, but you were holding back. A big man like you could have done a lot more damage to a man like Rendell then you did. Which leads me to believe you were afraid not to do as you were told,” continued Rook.
“It is not true, I can kill. The tape was missing because I was able to destroy it first. I try not to…”
Enough of your blabbering Chuck,” yelled Richard. “This man is only trying to sweet talk you. You know full well that you are in the same boat as the rest of us…”
“Pipe down Richie,” said Rook. “You know full well he is trying to give you the run around. You are not all in the same situation, just look at Dain. He was in the same boat as you. Killed a man and was sent to the axe for it. But now he is working with Smetana to try to bring an end to this man’s parade. It only is a matter of time…”
“I am beginning to find you as the smart mouthed fool. You carry on here as if you are the bloody man in charge. You do realize I have the power to make your life a living hell. Tame your tongue before I rip it out of your head.”
“Wow, calm tempered Richie, looks like I hit a soft spot. Your reasonable composure is headed for the door. Besides how could you even think to barter me for some of the ceremonial swords if I am no good to Smetana? He might take it as a slight if I return unable to talk or function properly. Then you will have hell to pay. Of course it is a little too late for that one in the first place.”
“Resilient to the end,” said Richard. “My men will have so much fun men breaking you. But I might just have to break you myself and deprive them of that pleasure.”
Rook suddenly found an invisible arm around his throat. The force lifted him off the ground and held him so his feet dangle freely. He grabbed at his throat with both hands trying to avoid passing out. The light was fading slowly, there was only so much longer that he would last before he passed on. That is why Chuck was so afraid of Richard. Telepathic powers could through a kink in anyone’s attempts to over through Richard. The invisible hand released causing Rook to crash to the floor. He flew up into the air and landed hard on the ground. He had a little time to compose himself before Richard tossed him up in the air again.
“Chuck, do I have to pay Richie you for allowing me to come to his personal amusement park?” said Rook. “How much of my monthly allowance will it be?”
One more word and Richard would go ballistic. Rook could see his eyes widen and his nostrils flare. One more jab and maybe it would be all over for him. Oblivion was a decent name for the sword, but it was made by the same people who made the other twelve swords. In his conversations with the scientists, he had gleaned the truth about this particular sword. It was produced just like the other, but for some reason there was a glitch in the programming. The scientists had not been exactly sure what happened when struck by this sword. The only thing they did know was that it still worked the exact same way the other did. They had several assumptions, but the most popular one was instead of teleporting the person to the Retrieval Zone it transported them to another undisclosed location.
“One final thing Chuck, tell your crazy clown of a leader that Smetana would never trade little old me for anyone of those swords. Anyway, it seems like Smetana has already made up his mind about his next move. You might as well forget about getting your grubby little fingers on the remainder of the ceremonial swords, Smetana will never trade me for them. Your self-righteous and insane plans of grasping for supreme power make me sick. By the way, Smetana had the remaining ceremonial swords destroyed the moment the rebellion broke out. You pathetic attempts will all fail and then you can return to being the trash everyone knows you are,” said Rook while he took one final spit in the direction of Richard.
He had broken the camel’s back. Richard lunged at him as he fell to the ground. A swift left to right stroke from Oblivion cut through his body. A feeling of numbness spread through his body in the exact location where the sword dematerialized while traveling through his flesh. The centralized numbness spread through his entire body radiating outward from the slash. Rook fell backwards as his arms went numb. The feeling climbed up his neck and slowly radiated into his head. His vision went black and his body disappeared from before Richard, Chuck and those in the rear of the room.
Somehow one of the high risk prisoners had broken free and was able to release many of the more dangerous prisoners. No one truthfully knew how the riot started. Rook’s best guess was that someone or a group of people were in league with the prisoners. To make matters worse, an electrical failure occurred the same night as the riot broke out. The main generator and the backup generator had somehow been hit simultaneously. The situation reeked of foul-play. Without camera any number of people could have walked right into the facility and the warden and the guards would never have known the difference. It did not help that all the eyewitness to the riot were unaccounted for and probably dead.
To make matters worse, the enemy had hunkered down inside the maximum security wing of the prison. Lieutenant Smetana originally attempted a full on assault of the prison wing. Unfortunately the prisoners had many of the guard’s weapons and they were starting to use the abilities that had manifested as a result of being sent to this prison.
Rook caught himself as he stumbled to the ground from exhaustion. He attempted to push himself up from the kneeling position but was not nearly quick enough for the guard escorting him to whoever the master was. The man’s boot caught him square in the ribs and sent him skidding several feet away. Lying on the ground he got a good look at the guard. Chuck Rainer was an extremely large white man his neck and arms were covered in all sorts of tattoos. Chuck had originally been a very large man, but it was said that during his time on death row he decided to take the time to exercise every spare minute he had to pass the time. This had continued on ever after he had been “executed”.
“Get up off the floor, and walk,” said Chuck as he grabbed hold of Rook’s arm and lifted to him to his feet. “The master does not have any time to waste.”
“Yes sir, mister prisoner sir,” Rook shot off and then realized that probably had not been the best thing to say.
Chuck’s fist slammed down on his shoulder and sent him back to the ground in a heap. His fist felt like a solid hammer. “Not exactly the situation to be mouthing off in funny man. Open that bloody mouth of your one more time and you might be crawling into the master’s chambers.”
Rook rose to his feet without a word but caught Chuck’s eyes and starred him down. Right before he turned to move on, he hacked a loogie directly in Chuck’s face. This turned out to be a bad idea once again. Chuck moved fast and landed a punch directly in Rook’s stomach.
“Is that all you got, redneck?” Rook said.
Chucks eyes told Rook all he needed to know. The man’s anger was at the breaking point. He was already getting under the man’s skin. Of course he paid dearly for that comment. Chuck’s foot once again landed across his ribs and sent him flying to the ground. This time Chuck ran over to him and grabbed him by the front of his uniform. Rook smiled one more time as he spat blood directly in the man’s eyes.
Well at least I will not go down without a fight. Keep smiling through the pain and he will be livid.
Chuck wiped the blood from his eyes with his right sleeve. Then stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a pair of brass knuckles. He placed them on his fingers and pulled his arm back for his strike. This…is going to hurt. Chuck’s fist landed square in Rook’s face causing him to black out.
***
Rook woke up lying face down in a pool of his own blood. His ears rang as if he had taken the concussion of a motor round directly in his face. His eyes watered and he could not clearly. The room spun around him as he pushed himself up to his knees. He ran his hands over his face to see what kind of damage he had suffered. His nose was broken and blood was spilling out of it. Other than that the rest of his face was intact.
Rook heard Chuck arguing with a man in the distance. It seemed like “the master” did not like the condition Chuck had brought him in. He shifted his head about trying to get an idea of where he was. A large room with white walls is about the only thing he could recognize. That meant he was in the maximum security lunch room. It was the only room in this wing that of this size.
“Shut your stupid pie hole and give the man a break,” Rook yelled as loud as he could. “I would have done the exact same thing had I had to put up with a lousy punk prisoner.”
“Well well, it looks like you do have a bit of a smart mouth to you,” replied the voice.
“Yah think,” replied Rook. “I think I have bad timing. Come over here and I will spit in your face too.” The man’s voice sounded familiar, but he could not quite put a name to the voice. Hopefully his eyesight would clear up a little so he could know who he was dealing with.
“I would not press your luck,” replied the voice. “I am a reasonable man most of the time.”
“Ok, let’s talk like reasonable men. I assume you reasonably let Rendell to an inch of his life, and reasonably lead the charge that killed a good many of the guards working the maximum security wing of this prison?”
“It is a tragedy I will give you that, but it was of utmost importance. A few casualties are always the cost when a new power must take over. As for your friend, well I put him out of his misery. He will not have to suffer anymore.”
The man hit a soft spot in Rook with his words. A mixed emotion of sorrow and joy washed over him. It was never easy when your men died, but at least he was not in pain. Compose yourself Rook. Show no emotion. This is not the time to be weak. That can wait for later. “So you must be an ‘end justifies the means’ type of guy.”
“It is one of the ways to live, although I also believe in an eye for an eye. One of my men was able to put a knife in the back of Gerald Dain. It seems that your lieutenant just so happened to enter the room at the same time. He was able to subdue my man raise an alarm. My other eyes and ears told me the following interrogations was one of the most brutal he had ever seen. It only seemed right to return the favor with Rendell. I would assume Smetana is just now receiving the CD detailing Rendell’s experience.
Rook shook his head. That is the reason his teams force-fields had faltered. Dain had been the man protecting them. It also gave proof to his theory that several of those helping them were not true friends. Would this man really give up one of his spies so a CD of Rendell’s beating could be delivered back to Smetana?
“Of course now that I have my two of my eyes and ears in your camp I will have to scout some other way. It is a shame, but I figure it is for the best. Smetana’s will need to be broken. He is the only one holding together the resistance. As soon as he is out of the way my plan can move forward.”
Rook laughed a bit too loud. “I have been with Smetana for the last three years. I can recount many stories are unit has been through. I wish you the very best in your endeavors. I only wish I could see the day when Smetana breaks your neck with his foot.”
“Oh no that is where you are mistaken. You see I have read his files. All commanders have a weakness. I plan to exploit his and use it to my advantage. “
Rooks eyes began to focus. He had guessed right about the lunch room as being their location. The tables around the east side of the room had been shifted back to give a makeshift stage. The man in-front of him sat in a comfortable office chair that had been rolled in to the room. The man was wearing one of the guard’s uniforms, and he held in his hand a samurai sword. This guy is trying to make himself look like a king. Rook used all his strength to focus on the man’s face.
The man had black hair and an elongated face. The uniform he was wearing made him look even smaller than he really was. “Richard Spence, how in the world did a runt like you become the leader of this operation? Seriously, you are no bigger than me, and as we all know Chuck here can give me a royal beating. “
“It is not my size that matters, but the people you know and the tools you hold. I have been waiting for this moment for a very long time. Several years of planning were required to get me here to the place I am not. I have a long time friend who made all of this happen, it was a shame he wanted to run the operation, but a deal is a deal. Brilliant man, but now I have put him in his place; he is no longer half as brilliant as he once was. Roger will still make a valuable secretary.”
Roger Kirkland? He was one of the men responsible for this facility and one of the minds behind the technology used to “execute” death row prisoners and bring them here. I had shared lunch with the man on many different occasions. He could have fooled me, but also seems like he fooled everybody. “I would assume why you have control of the sword you are holding. My guess is it is the one referred to as the obliterator, correct?” said Rook.
“Well it looks like someone has been engaging in a bit of studying,” replied Richard. “I knew I wasn’t wasting my time talking to you. It looks as if you might be useful to me after all.”
“Sure thing Richie, but you are going to have to step in line, cause I am sort of busy right now in my cell.” Again probably not the best course of action to take, but at least I got a laugh out of Chuck.
“Sergeant Daniel Kilbourne, mock me as much as you want. But know this, I have the power to reward you heavily and I also have the ability to make you die a slow and painful death.”
“Terribly sorry Richie, I didn’t realize you were heartless. All this time I thought you were a reasonable man.”
“I am a reasonable man. I will show you my reason now. I am willing to release you for a small price from Smetana. I need the remaining swords that are used in the ceremonial executions. If I get a hold of these then I will release you and all of your friends and allow them to leave my island.”
“You want the remaining ceremonial swords? Well then it looks like you are reasonable, heartless and a complete idiot. Chuck, tell Richie that I am done talking with him.”
“You misunderstood my words for kindness, I…”
“Nope, I fully understand. By the way Chuck, instead of kicking people in the chest when they are down, you should try taking their feet from under them while their still standing. You are a big guy but I have seen your speed and it pretty much good for a man your size.”
Rook look at Richard from the corner of his eye. The man was still calm. He would have to really find a nerve. According to the file he had read, Richard was extremely arrogant. All his life he had wanted to be the center of attention. It all seemed to becoming together. The years of planning must have been to get him here with a good amount of power behind him. Rook seemed to recall that Richard had started killing about a year before this project started. That would put it about the same time the ceremonial swords had become fully operational. It also explained why Richard had turned himself in to the Police with all the evidence of the murders. The man had even had plead guilty and asked for the death sentence. Maybe not acknowledging his presence would drive him mad. It was worth a shot, especially since Smetana had already destroyed the seven remaining ceremonial swords.
“I would let you demonstrate on me but unfortunately I have not the ability to stand,” said Rook. “So instead let me just ask you what kind of ability you happened to pick up when the sent you here?”
Chuck looked as about as confused as a man could be. He look at Richard and then back at him. He opened his mouth as if he were going to speak and then closed it up again. It looked like he was making sure that he would not incur the wrath of Richard. His expression showed Rook that Richard had done something to inspire a state of fear into his men.
“Seriously, because whatever your ability is, it is probably ten times cooler that little man's over here. “Plus you are a really big guy; you could probably take that silly little sword away from Mr. Inept with your bear hands. Look at the man he is a scrawny little twig of a man,” said Rook
“Silence Daniel, we have had enough of your lip. I told you once before, I do not anger easily,” replied Richard.
“I would have to disagree. Chuck, from the way you hold yourself it looks like Richie has a very bad temper. You would not want to say the wrong word and find yourself sitting here in my position would you? Or maybe you would find yourself in Roger’s position. Being forced to scurry around with you head down like an inferior man. No Chuck, you are a man of honor being used as a tool by this scared little man. I read your file, it seems like you were wrongfully accused of killing a cop. Those sentences are hard because the judges just will not see reason.
“If I were a beating man I would have to say that you got the short end of the stick. The jury was handed a fraction of the evidence required to make an honest decision. Don’t you find if funny that the video tape somehow was never retrieved? “
Rook could tell his plan of action was working. Richard was starting to come unraveled. Sure he was trying to play it off as if it was nothing, but the man had started nervously moving his sword around in his hands. It would only be a matter of time before Richard snapped. In all likelihood he was already a dead man. If in his final moment he could create a riff between Richard and some of his men maybe it would give Smetana a fighting chance to be able to quell this rebellion.
“Besides, you don’t look like the type of person that would actually be able to kill a person. I saw the way you beat down Rendell, but you were holding back. A big man like you could have done a lot more damage to a man like Rendell then you did. Which leads me to believe you were afraid not to do as you were told,” continued Rook.
“It is not true, I can kill. The tape was missing because I was able to destroy it first. I try not to…”
Enough of your blabbering Chuck,” yelled Richard. “This man is only trying to sweet talk you. You know full well that you are in the same boat as the rest of us…”
“Pipe down Richie,” said Rook. “You know full well he is trying to give you the run around. You are not all in the same situation, just look at Dain. He was in the same boat as you. Killed a man and was sent to the axe for it. But now he is working with Smetana to try to bring an end to this man’s parade. It only is a matter of time…”
“I am beginning to find you as the smart mouthed fool. You carry on here as if you are the bloody man in charge. You do realize I have the power to make your life a living hell. Tame your tongue before I rip it out of your head.”
“Wow, calm tempered Richie, looks like I hit a soft spot. Your reasonable composure is headed for the door. Besides how could you even think to barter me for some of the ceremonial swords if I am no good to Smetana? He might take it as a slight if I return unable to talk or function properly. Then you will have hell to pay. Of course it is a little too late for that one in the first place.”
“Resilient to the end,” said Richard. “My men will have so much fun men breaking you. But I might just have to break you myself and deprive them of that pleasure.”
Rook suddenly found an invisible arm around his throat. The force lifted him off the ground and held him so his feet dangle freely. He grabbed at his throat with both hands trying to avoid passing out. The light was fading slowly, there was only so much longer that he would last before he passed on. That is why Chuck was so afraid of Richard. Telepathic powers could through a kink in anyone’s attempts to over through Richard. The invisible hand released causing Rook to crash to the floor. He flew up into the air and landed hard on the ground. He had a little time to compose himself before Richard tossed him up in the air again.
“Chuck, do I have to pay Richie you for allowing me to come to his personal amusement park?” said Rook. “How much of my monthly allowance will it be?”
One more word and Richard would go ballistic. Rook could see his eyes widen and his nostrils flare. One more jab and maybe it would be all over for him. Oblivion was a decent name for the sword, but it was made by the same people who made the other twelve swords. In his conversations with the scientists, he had gleaned the truth about this particular sword. It was produced just like the other, but for some reason there was a glitch in the programming. The scientists had not been exactly sure what happened when struck by this sword. The only thing they did know was that it still worked the exact same way the other did. They had several assumptions, but the most popular one was instead of teleporting the person to the Retrieval Zone it transported them to another undisclosed location.
“One final thing Chuck, tell your crazy clown of a leader that Smetana would never trade little old me for anyone of those swords. Anyway, it seems like Smetana has already made up his mind about his next move. You might as well forget about getting your grubby little fingers on the remainder of the ceremonial swords, Smetana will never trade me for them. Your self-righteous and insane plans of grasping for supreme power make me sick. By the way, Smetana had the remaining ceremonial swords destroyed the moment the rebellion broke out. You pathetic attempts will all fail and then you can return to being the trash everyone knows you are,” said Rook while he took one final spit in the direction of Richard.
He had broken the camel’s back. Richard lunged at him as he fell to the ground. A swift left to right stroke from Oblivion cut through his body. A feeling of numbness spread through his body in the exact location where the sword dematerialized while traveling through his flesh. The centralized numbness spread through his entire body radiating outward from the slash. Rook fell backwards as his arms went numb. The feeling climbed up his neck and slowly radiated into his head. His vision went black and his body disappeared from before Richard, Chuck and those in the rear of the room.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
A Crack in the Surface
The sound of screaming woke him from his uncomfortable sleep. Rook chuckled to himself slightly for a moment. This is not sleep, this is a pain induced haze of sleep. He shifted his body from one of the concrete walls of his cell to the other. The left side of his body had cramped up from toe to shoulder. It was amazing he could will himself to sleep in this situation. Then again, he had spent many a night in the uncomfortable cold of the Ural mountains in the last year of his life. Of course there sleep came but for short stints of time. It was amazing how the threat of someone placing a bullet into your body kept you awake more than 20 hours a day.
This situation was different than the situation he found himself in during the time spent in the mountains. There it was kill or be killed, the enemy had no reason for wanting to take prisoners. This enemy was different. This enemy wanted to know about the information he had inside his head. For that fact alone was he still alive. For now he was alive and well in a four foot by four foot cell.
Earlier this week an attack had been made on the opposite side of the prison. A large fire had started burned a good bit of the other side of the prison cells up prisoners and all. He like to think that it had been a group of his buddies trying to break him out of this place. Deep in his mind though, he realized that breaking him out would be the biggest suicide mission concocted in many years. He knew his commander all to well. As much as it pained him he knew that he was only one soldier and the risk out weighed the gain in this situation. Most likely one of the enemy combatants had tried to grasp a little more power than he was supposed to have. That idea did not boad well with those who had taken power. He had seen it before many times in the last month. Not only had the enemy attacked them ruthlessly, but they had also attacked each other.
The screaming had not stopped in the minutes the last few minutes. His eyes focused on the source of the noise that woke him. Across the hall one of the prison guards had decided to make a little sport of the man in the cell. The prisoner was tied to a chair and was taking one of the most ruthless beating he had ever seen. He wanted nothing more to go over to the guard and drop a bullet into the back of the man’s head. Though Rook looked calm on the outside, his insides were in a violent rage. The unfortunate prisoner in the other cell wore the same dark green uniform he did. Though he could not read the name on the uniform through the darkness he recognized the soldier as Private Joseph Rendell. Rendell and he were the only two out of the five man scouting party that had survived the onslaught of enemy troops. The three other men, Privates Gregory Hammer, Christopher Nelson, and Jonathan White, had been killed during the conflict.
It had been a week since they were captured. Something must have gone extrodinarily wrong on the planning end of there mission. They were supposed to have been in and out of the hostile territory in ten minutes flat with a hostage that had been taken by a spy in the enemies camp. It had to have been a trap all along. He and his men had been sent as replacements for another squad at the last second. His commanding officer was supposed to lead this high profile hostage out and back to their base. He and his squad had been caught in a six hour crossfire the night before. Though they had only lost one man the entire squad was pretty much useless for the mission at hand. Plus the forcefields that were ment to protect him and his men for the duration of their mission had suddenly been lost right before the prisoner exchange. Maybe the death and capture of him and his men hand allowed for the mole in their organization to be located once and for all. If the mole was captured then the loss of five men in the big picture was really not that bad. Never the less the pain of the whole ordeal remained with him. He had lost 3 good men and Rendell would probably not make it that much longer.
The beatings continued for another minute or so. Rook repressed the urge to break down. He could not fail in this task. If he broke down then more people would die. It angered him the enemy took this approach to try to crack him. He must be strong for his fellow soldiers. He had to be strong first for those who still lived to fight another day, and he had to be strong for those who had passed already. He would not let those men die in vain. They were already heroes in his mind.
Rook focused on his own condition and tried to block out the screams of his soldier. He looked down at his own shivering body. His uniform had been drenched by the pale of water the guards had thrown on him earlier this evening. He could not block out the cold that swept over his body. He was surprised that he was still in control even though his entire body was shaking violently. He tried to squeeze himself further into the corner of his cell. Maybe that way he would be able to get out of the wind that blew in from the window up to his right. After a few minutes of failing to get out of the way of the wind he finally gave up trying to move. The only thing he could do to remain warm was to curl up and force it out of his mind.
It was hard for him to think of happier times back in his youth. For some reason all of those fond memories he had seemed like a lifetime ago. They were almost beginning to feel like someone else’s memories. Memories he only knew because he had heard stories or watched them in a movie. Then a memory formed in his head. It must have been partly a muscle memory because he found himself sitting in a frozen foxhole with two of his buddies back when they were fighting deep in the Ural Mountains during the winter. Snow lay all around him and he sat there shivering just like he was doing now. He remembered talking the first shift while his other buddies slept. Back then he had been the rookie private. The men had started calling him Rook because of a misunderstanding that had happened around that same time. He laughed again, how would he have known that that nickname would have stuck with him all this time. Many of the kids around him now had no idea what it meant or the story behind the name. He finally got fed up with explaining the details of the day. The funny thing about that was his men started making up stories of their own about the origin. Most of the stories were able to generate a good laugh. He could probably collect all those stories and fill up a good long book.
The transition between being awake and asleep blurred to the point of oblivion. Rook could not honesty tell which category he fell into. He hoped that right now he was asleep and just dreaming. Maybe he would wake up and this whole situation would be just a dream. Or maybe it was real, whichever way he hoped he would be able to make it through the entire night. It was not long before he was able to fall asleep again.
It was not screaming that woke Rook up this time but the sound of a familiar voice. His eyes opened slowly, he was still exhausted and could not tell exactly how long he had been asleep. To him it seemed like hours but for all he knew it might have been fifteen to twenty minutes. It was still dark outside but the wind had stopped blowing. He felt a little bit warmer than before. He focused his eyes in the direction of the sound. He saw the outline of Rendell in the cell opposite his. The soldier had his head slumped forward staring intensely at his own feet. It seemed like the most relaxed position the man could have been in for his condition. Even through the dark Rook could see the bruising that had begun to form from the most recent round of beating.
“Did you hear what I said sir?” repeated Rendell.
“Sorry Rendell, I did not hear you,” answered Rook. “Could you repeat it for me again.”
“When you get out of this mess and back to the mainland would you tell my parents what kind of soldier I was?”
“There is no need for that soldier. We will be out of here in no time. I am sure Lieutenant Smetana is devising a way to get us out of here this very moment.”
“Sir, I understand you are trying to boost my moral here but your words are all just snafu to me. It would be stupid for them to come and rescue us. Hell, they probably think we are already dead. Either way, the situation does not look very good for either of us at the moment, me especially. I am surprised I made it this long to tell you the truth.
“I am honored sir to have been able to serve under your command for this short amount of time. Once the prison riots started I realized that many of us were probably not going to make it out but in body bags. I was relieved when Peter and several of the other prisoners joined our fight but our enemy seemed to grow stronger by the day.
“I guess that is what happens when you use death row prisoners as your guinea pigs. Seemed like a good idea at the time, since nobody would actually miss them. I still hold to the fact that this whole mission was on bloody mess. The warden probably should have gotten my foot straight up his hind quarters.”
“I think we all shared your views after the prison riot,” replied Rook. “As a matter of fact, I think the Lieutenant thought that point of view even before the situation hit the fan. Somehow he anticipated something like this happening. He raised quite a storm with his commanding officer. The man just would not listen to him. So he took what he was given and made the best out of it.”
“He would be the one shining star out of this whole snafu bloody mess. He is probably the only reason we made it this long.”
“Too true,” answered Rook. This mess isn’t the first mess I have been in with Smetana though. It seems like he always got the short end of the stick because he was that good. But men followed him because he was different from the rest of the army leaders. Many soldiers would gladly have died fighting for him. Now it seems like we get that same privilege.
***
Morning finally returned to the cell Rook was in. He awoke to find himself in the opposite corner of the cell leaning up against the cold metal bars. The sun was shining in through the window ever so slightly. The glimmer of sunlight brought a faint hope to Rook that everything would work out to be alright in the end. Maybe the words he had told Rendell had not been full of bull as he thought when he spoke them last night.
“Looks like the dawn brings a new sense of hope Rendell,” said Rook
Rendell made no answer so Rook turned to look into the cell across from him. Rendell was nowhere to seen. An empty chair stood in the center of the of the cell. The chair and the surrounding area was covered in blood. The sight killed Rook a little bit more inside. He had to pull his eyes away from the site and returned to look at the window. His shaky hands covered his eyes to hide the tears trickling down the sides of his dirty face. His shaky hands slipped up into his dark black and greasy mess of hair and grabbed hold of it tightly. Pain and frustration ran through every ounce of his tired body as he slumped a little further down into the corner of his cell.
Memories of last night flooded to his head. The guard had returned a short period after their conversation with a baton. The guards first swing of the baton had landed on the side of Rendell’s left leg. The sound of his leg shattering had been bad enough but the yell of broken humanity that followed vibrated to Rook’s very core. The beating had not stopped there. A myriad of more blows landed in various places around Rendell’s body. Each strike brought more physical pain to Rendell and even more emotional pain to Rook.
Rook had slumped into a ball and rolled a rolled across the floor to the position he found himself in currently to avoid having to look at how much pain Rendell was going through. The sound of bones breaking with every other strike was hard enough to bear alone. Rook could feel himself slipping away mentally from all he knew. Was this the act that would both kill one of his men and break down his defenses. I must remain strong, strong for those who have died before, and those who still fight on. I will not break. No matter how much repeated this line, despair rolled over him and he collapse from mental anguish.
He had heard the guard leave the cell and walk back across the room to his post. Behind him he could here Rendell’s strenuous breaths. Each one sounded more painful than the one before. On occasion he could hear Rendell spitting and choking on his own blood. The feeling of nausea and despair rolled over him once again. He could not even bring himself look over his shoulder.
“Out of the depths I have cried to You, O LORD; Lord, hear my voice! Let Your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications,” said Rook as he collapsed one more time.
***
By all account it was midmorning from the light coming in from the window of Rook’s cell. Rendell had not returned to his cell since he had awoken from his sleep. He was able to block out some of the pain for now but he did not think that would last very long at all. His energy felt sapped and he could not bear to face the empty cell. The entire morning he stared blankly at the wall. His mind was blank accept for the occasional memory of a dead soldier he had passed during his stint in the Ural Mountains. The man had been standing next directly in front of a grenade the moment before he moved from this place. Shrapnel had disfigured most of the front of the man’s body. Blood stains and small wads of the fabric that had once composed his uniform were all that was left to most of his chest. The man’s face had caught his attention because it had somehow been unscathed by the blast. The look of horror was nowhere to be seen in the man’s wide open eyes, but it was a look of serenity. He had never understood how a man had look so calm even in death before. As he continued to look at the dead man, his image changed into that of Rendell and pushed himself up into a sitting position. Rook stumbled backwards out of shock and smacked his head against something solid. His mind refocused and found himself sitting once again looking at the wall of his cell.
Slowly he turned rolled forward into a crouching position. As cautiously as he could he willed his body into the standing position. His entire body was numb from sleeping in a curled up ball all night. He had to lean against the bars of his cell to steady himself. Once he felt comfortable his feet could support his weight he began to turn to face the scene he had been avoiding this entire morning. The chair remained in the center of the cell. A few drops of blood were scattered all over the chair. Most of the fresh blood was on the floor surrounding the chair. The site of the cell made him puke what little evidence of food that remained in his stomach out in front of his body. Suddenly all the image and conversations from the night flooded his mind. Tears ran down his face as he stood there silently staring at the cell. Holding on to the bars of the cell with his left hand he used his right sleeve to wipe away those tears.
The dead Russian soldier was lying in the middle of the cell when he looked up. The man once again shifted into the image of Rendell and sat up. Rendell then stood up and walked to the edge of the cell. His body began to change once again but this time it was a brutally bruised and battered Rendell. The man’s blue eyes stared him down blankly.
A noise in the distance caught Rook’s attention. His eyes shifted from the illusion of Rendell to the guard walking down the prison hallway. The large blonde haired man flicked his wrist and the cell door opened inward slamming into Rook’s body and sending him to the opposing wall. The man walked in and grabbed his shoulder and pulled him out and down the hallway.
“The master wants to see you now,” he muttered under his breath.
This situation was different than the situation he found himself in during the time spent in the mountains. There it was kill or be killed, the enemy had no reason for wanting to take prisoners. This enemy was different. This enemy wanted to know about the information he had inside his head. For that fact alone was he still alive. For now he was alive and well in a four foot by four foot cell.
Earlier this week an attack had been made on the opposite side of the prison. A large fire had started burned a good bit of the other side of the prison cells up prisoners and all. He like to think that it had been a group of his buddies trying to break him out of this place. Deep in his mind though, he realized that breaking him out would be the biggest suicide mission concocted in many years. He knew his commander all to well. As much as it pained him he knew that he was only one soldier and the risk out weighed the gain in this situation. Most likely one of the enemy combatants had tried to grasp a little more power than he was supposed to have. That idea did not boad well with those who had taken power. He had seen it before many times in the last month. Not only had the enemy attacked them ruthlessly, but they had also attacked each other.
The screaming had not stopped in the minutes the last few minutes. His eyes focused on the source of the noise that woke him. Across the hall one of the prison guards had decided to make a little sport of the man in the cell. The prisoner was tied to a chair and was taking one of the most ruthless beating he had ever seen. He wanted nothing more to go over to the guard and drop a bullet into the back of the man’s head. Though Rook looked calm on the outside, his insides were in a violent rage. The unfortunate prisoner in the other cell wore the same dark green uniform he did. Though he could not read the name on the uniform through the darkness he recognized the soldier as Private Joseph Rendell. Rendell and he were the only two out of the five man scouting party that had survived the onslaught of enemy troops. The three other men, Privates Gregory Hammer, Christopher Nelson, and Jonathan White, had been killed during the conflict.
It had been a week since they were captured. Something must have gone extrodinarily wrong on the planning end of there mission. They were supposed to have been in and out of the hostile territory in ten minutes flat with a hostage that had been taken by a spy in the enemies camp. It had to have been a trap all along. He and his men had been sent as replacements for another squad at the last second. His commanding officer was supposed to lead this high profile hostage out and back to their base. He and his squad had been caught in a six hour crossfire the night before. Though they had only lost one man the entire squad was pretty much useless for the mission at hand. Plus the forcefields that were ment to protect him and his men for the duration of their mission had suddenly been lost right before the prisoner exchange. Maybe the death and capture of him and his men hand allowed for the mole in their organization to be located once and for all. If the mole was captured then the loss of five men in the big picture was really not that bad. Never the less the pain of the whole ordeal remained with him. He had lost 3 good men and Rendell would probably not make it that much longer.
The beatings continued for another minute or so. Rook repressed the urge to break down. He could not fail in this task. If he broke down then more people would die. It angered him the enemy took this approach to try to crack him. He must be strong for his fellow soldiers. He had to be strong first for those who still lived to fight another day, and he had to be strong for those who had passed already. He would not let those men die in vain. They were already heroes in his mind.
Rook focused on his own condition and tried to block out the screams of his soldier. He looked down at his own shivering body. His uniform had been drenched by the pale of water the guards had thrown on him earlier this evening. He could not block out the cold that swept over his body. He was surprised that he was still in control even though his entire body was shaking violently. He tried to squeeze himself further into the corner of his cell. Maybe that way he would be able to get out of the wind that blew in from the window up to his right. After a few minutes of failing to get out of the way of the wind he finally gave up trying to move. The only thing he could do to remain warm was to curl up and force it out of his mind.
It was hard for him to think of happier times back in his youth. For some reason all of those fond memories he had seemed like a lifetime ago. They were almost beginning to feel like someone else’s memories. Memories he only knew because he had heard stories or watched them in a movie. Then a memory formed in his head. It must have been partly a muscle memory because he found himself sitting in a frozen foxhole with two of his buddies back when they were fighting deep in the Ural Mountains during the winter. Snow lay all around him and he sat there shivering just like he was doing now. He remembered talking the first shift while his other buddies slept. Back then he had been the rookie private. The men had started calling him Rook because of a misunderstanding that had happened around that same time. He laughed again, how would he have known that that nickname would have stuck with him all this time. Many of the kids around him now had no idea what it meant or the story behind the name. He finally got fed up with explaining the details of the day. The funny thing about that was his men started making up stories of their own about the origin. Most of the stories were able to generate a good laugh. He could probably collect all those stories and fill up a good long book.
The transition between being awake and asleep blurred to the point of oblivion. Rook could not honesty tell which category he fell into. He hoped that right now he was asleep and just dreaming. Maybe he would wake up and this whole situation would be just a dream. Or maybe it was real, whichever way he hoped he would be able to make it through the entire night. It was not long before he was able to fall asleep again.
It was not screaming that woke Rook up this time but the sound of a familiar voice. His eyes opened slowly, he was still exhausted and could not tell exactly how long he had been asleep. To him it seemed like hours but for all he knew it might have been fifteen to twenty minutes. It was still dark outside but the wind had stopped blowing. He felt a little bit warmer than before. He focused his eyes in the direction of the sound. He saw the outline of Rendell in the cell opposite his. The soldier had his head slumped forward staring intensely at his own feet. It seemed like the most relaxed position the man could have been in for his condition. Even through the dark Rook could see the bruising that had begun to form from the most recent round of beating.
“Did you hear what I said sir?” repeated Rendell.
“Sorry Rendell, I did not hear you,” answered Rook. “Could you repeat it for me again.”
“When you get out of this mess and back to the mainland would you tell my parents what kind of soldier I was?”
“There is no need for that soldier. We will be out of here in no time. I am sure Lieutenant Smetana is devising a way to get us out of here this very moment.”
“Sir, I understand you are trying to boost my moral here but your words are all just snafu to me. It would be stupid for them to come and rescue us. Hell, they probably think we are already dead. Either way, the situation does not look very good for either of us at the moment, me especially. I am surprised I made it this long to tell you the truth.
“I am honored sir to have been able to serve under your command for this short amount of time. Once the prison riots started I realized that many of us were probably not going to make it out but in body bags. I was relieved when Peter and several of the other prisoners joined our fight but our enemy seemed to grow stronger by the day.
“I guess that is what happens when you use death row prisoners as your guinea pigs. Seemed like a good idea at the time, since nobody would actually miss them. I still hold to the fact that this whole mission was on bloody mess. The warden probably should have gotten my foot straight up his hind quarters.”
“I think we all shared your views after the prison riot,” replied Rook. “As a matter of fact, I think the Lieutenant thought that point of view even before the situation hit the fan. Somehow he anticipated something like this happening. He raised quite a storm with his commanding officer. The man just would not listen to him. So he took what he was given and made the best out of it.”
“He would be the one shining star out of this whole snafu bloody mess. He is probably the only reason we made it this long.”
“Too true,” answered Rook. This mess isn’t the first mess I have been in with Smetana though. It seems like he always got the short end of the stick because he was that good. But men followed him because he was different from the rest of the army leaders. Many soldiers would gladly have died fighting for him. Now it seems like we get that same privilege.
***
Morning finally returned to the cell Rook was in. He awoke to find himself in the opposite corner of the cell leaning up against the cold metal bars. The sun was shining in through the window ever so slightly. The glimmer of sunlight brought a faint hope to Rook that everything would work out to be alright in the end. Maybe the words he had told Rendell had not been full of bull as he thought when he spoke them last night.
“Looks like the dawn brings a new sense of hope Rendell,” said Rook
Rendell made no answer so Rook turned to look into the cell across from him. Rendell was nowhere to seen. An empty chair stood in the center of the of the cell. The chair and the surrounding area was covered in blood. The sight killed Rook a little bit more inside. He had to pull his eyes away from the site and returned to look at the window. His shaky hands covered his eyes to hide the tears trickling down the sides of his dirty face. His shaky hands slipped up into his dark black and greasy mess of hair and grabbed hold of it tightly. Pain and frustration ran through every ounce of his tired body as he slumped a little further down into the corner of his cell.
Memories of last night flooded to his head. The guard had returned a short period after their conversation with a baton. The guards first swing of the baton had landed on the side of Rendell’s left leg. The sound of his leg shattering had been bad enough but the yell of broken humanity that followed vibrated to Rook’s very core. The beating had not stopped there. A myriad of more blows landed in various places around Rendell’s body. Each strike brought more physical pain to Rendell and even more emotional pain to Rook.
Rook had slumped into a ball and rolled a rolled across the floor to the position he found himself in currently to avoid having to look at how much pain Rendell was going through. The sound of bones breaking with every other strike was hard enough to bear alone. Rook could feel himself slipping away mentally from all he knew. Was this the act that would both kill one of his men and break down his defenses. I must remain strong, strong for those who have died before, and those who still fight on. I will not break. No matter how much repeated this line, despair rolled over him and he collapse from mental anguish.
He had heard the guard leave the cell and walk back across the room to his post. Behind him he could here Rendell’s strenuous breaths. Each one sounded more painful than the one before. On occasion he could hear Rendell spitting and choking on his own blood. The feeling of nausea and despair rolled over him once again. He could not even bring himself look over his shoulder.
“Out of the depths I have cried to You, O LORD; Lord, hear my voice! Let Your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications,” said Rook as he collapsed one more time.
***
By all account it was midmorning from the light coming in from the window of Rook’s cell. Rendell had not returned to his cell since he had awoken from his sleep. He was able to block out some of the pain for now but he did not think that would last very long at all. His energy felt sapped and he could not bear to face the empty cell. The entire morning he stared blankly at the wall. His mind was blank accept for the occasional memory of a dead soldier he had passed during his stint in the Ural Mountains. The man had been standing next directly in front of a grenade the moment before he moved from this place. Shrapnel had disfigured most of the front of the man’s body. Blood stains and small wads of the fabric that had once composed his uniform were all that was left to most of his chest. The man’s face had caught his attention because it had somehow been unscathed by the blast. The look of horror was nowhere to be seen in the man’s wide open eyes, but it was a look of serenity. He had never understood how a man had look so calm even in death before. As he continued to look at the dead man, his image changed into that of Rendell and pushed himself up into a sitting position. Rook stumbled backwards out of shock and smacked his head against something solid. His mind refocused and found himself sitting once again looking at the wall of his cell.
Slowly he turned rolled forward into a crouching position. As cautiously as he could he willed his body into the standing position. His entire body was numb from sleeping in a curled up ball all night. He had to lean against the bars of his cell to steady himself. Once he felt comfortable his feet could support his weight he began to turn to face the scene he had been avoiding this entire morning. The chair remained in the center of the cell. A few drops of blood were scattered all over the chair. Most of the fresh blood was on the floor surrounding the chair. The site of the cell made him puke what little evidence of food that remained in his stomach out in front of his body. Suddenly all the image and conversations from the night flooded his mind. Tears ran down his face as he stood there silently staring at the cell. Holding on to the bars of the cell with his left hand he used his right sleeve to wipe away those tears.
The dead Russian soldier was lying in the middle of the cell when he looked up. The man once again shifted into the image of Rendell and sat up. Rendell then stood up and walked to the edge of the cell. His body began to change once again but this time it was a brutally bruised and battered Rendell. The man’s blue eyes stared him down blankly.
A noise in the distance caught Rook’s attention. His eyes shifted from the illusion of Rendell to the guard walking down the prison hallway. The large blonde haired man flicked his wrist and the cell door opened inward slamming into Rook’s body and sending him to the opposing wall. The man walked in and grabbed his shoulder and pulled him out and down the hallway.
“The master wants to see you now,” he muttered under his breath.
Thursday, July 08, 2010
Our Song
The Spill Canvas
Be kind when you rewind the story of how the two of us
Sometimes you wish it was a little more mysterious
When you look at me with your cinematic eyes
I wanna play the part but I forget the lines
I do it all the time
I never get it right
One day when you replay the slideshow that we know
Pictures won't show villains and heroes
It's just me keeping time with you
Butter knife's dull but it still cuts through
We never were
We'll never be
Strangers kissing in the pouring rain
Chasing after your leaving train
But we know that's not how our song goes ohh
You're a waitress in a cocktail bar
And I'll save you cause I'm a big rock star
But we know that's not how our song goes
It goes like this
You didn't like my friends and your mom didn't trust me
I thought I was slick but my moves are rusty
Bought you a 12 pack and promised you sushi
Sorry if I wasn't straight out of a movie
We never were
We'll never be
Strangers kissing in the pouring rain
Chasing after your leaving train
But we know that's not how our song goes
You're a waitress in a cocktail bar
And I'll save you cause I'm a big rock star
But we know that's not how our song goes
It
Be kind when you rewind the story of the two of us
Sometimes you wish it was a little more mysterious
When you look at me with your cinematic eyes
I wanna play the part but I keep messing up the lines
We never were
We'll never be
Strangers kissing in the pouring rain
Chasing after your leaving train
But we know that's not how our song goes ohh
You're a waitress in a cocktail bar
And I'll save you cause I'm a big rock star
But we know that's not how our song goes
It goes like this
It goes like this
Be kind when you rewind the story of how the two of us
Sometimes you wish it was a little more mysterious
When you look at me with your cinematic eyes
I wanna play the part but I forget the lines
I do it all the time
I never get it right
One day when you replay the slideshow that we know
Pictures won't show villains and heroes
It's just me keeping time with you
Butter knife's dull but it still cuts through
We never were
We'll never be
Strangers kissing in the pouring rain
Chasing after your leaving train
But we know that's not how our song goes ohh
You're a waitress in a cocktail bar
And I'll save you cause I'm a big rock star
But we know that's not how our song goes
It goes like this
You didn't like my friends and your mom didn't trust me
I thought I was slick but my moves are rusty
Bought you a 12 pack and promised you sushi
Sorry if I wasn't straight out of a movie
We never were
We'll never be
Strangers kissing in the pouring rain
Chasing after your leaving train
But we know that's not how our song goes
You're a waitress in a cocktail bar
And I'll save you cause I'm a big rock star
But we know that's not how our song goes
It
Be kind when you rewind the story of the two of us
Sometimes you wish it was a little more mysterious
When you look at me with your cinematic eyes
I wanna play the part but I keep messing up the lines
We never were
We'll never be
Strangers kissing in the pouring rain
Chasing after your leaving train
But we know that's not how our song goes ohh
You're a waitress in a cocktail bar
And I'll save you cause I'm a big rock star
But we know that's not how our song goes
It goes like this
It goes like this
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
One Day Too Late
By Skillet
Tick tock hear the clock countdown
Wish the minute hand could be rewound
So much to do and so much I need to say
Will tomorrow be too late
Feel the moment slip into the past
Like sand through an hourglass
In the madness I guess I just forget
To do all the things I said
Time passes by
Never thought I'd wind up
One step behind
Now I've made my mind up
Today I'm gonna try a little harder
Gonna make every minute last longer
Gonna learn to forgive and forget
'Cause we don't have long, gonna make the most of it
Today I'm gonna love my enemies
Reach out to somebody who needs me
Make a change, make the world a better place
'Cause tomorrow could be one day too late
One day too late
One day too late
Tick tock hear my life pass by
I can't erase and I can't rewind
Of all the things I regret the most I do...
Wish I'd spent more time with you
Here's my chance for a new beginning
I saved the best for a better ending
And in the end I'll make it up to you, you'll see
You'll get the very best of me
Your time is running out
You're never gonna get it back
Make the most of every moment
Stop saving the best for last
Tick tock hear the clock countdown
Wish the minute hand could be rewound
So much to do and so much I need to say
Will tomorrow be too late
Feel the moment slip into the past
Like sand through an hourglass
In the madness I guess I just forget
To do all the things I said
Time passes by
Never thought I'd wind up
One step behind
Now I've made my mind up
Today I'm gonna try a little harder
Gonna make every minute last longer
Gonna learn to forgive and forget
'Cause we don't have long, gonna make the most of it
Today I'm gonna love my enemies
Reach out to somebody who needs me
Make a change, make the world a better place
'Cause tomorrow could be one day too late
One day too late
One day too late
Tick tock hear my life pass by
I can't erase and I can't rewind
Of all the things I regret the most I do...
Wish I'd spent more time with you
Here's my chance for a new beginning
I saved the best for a better ending
And in the end I'll make it up to you, you'll see
You'll get the very best of me
Your time is running out
You're never gonna get it back
Make the most of every moment
Stop saving the best for last
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