Day of Reckoning

[Vercetti21]

 

 

A man haunted by the memory of his wife's mysterious murder is tormented by his own will for vengeance. But when he visits his wife's grave for the first time in 20 years, vengeance finds him, and the mystery unfolds into a cliff-hanging, plot-twisting nightmare.

 

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As the dark mist gently settled among the snow-capped woodland, a strange presence could be seen in the distance. The vivid outline was not of a spirit or a beast, but of a man. He was alone, walking quietly and gloomy as he approached his wife’s desolate grave.

 

He spoke softly to his precious companion, an almost apologizing tone yet still and calm. He bowed his head in remembrance, resting a bouquet of white roses among the monument which marked her isolated tomb.

 

The woman had been murdered just three days before. The man, while not physically, had been murdered as well. And he would see to it that the killer be tormented also, beneath the powerful fist of vengeance and against the blazing glory of retribution. The man thirsted for it. The man begged for it. And, if necessary, the man would die for it.

 

I saw myself as this lost man in my own wandering mind some twenty years later. And yet, although my body and psyche had shriveled cold and ancient, my craving for revenge remained an unsatisfied desire, something dark inside of me that had grown into a roaring inferno which now possessed my persona and controlled my sinister intellect.

 

Vengeance was my idol. Vengeance was my obsession. Vengeance was my only key to the door of happiness, something I had not seen since the horrific incident. And yet, although I desperately craved it, vengeance haunted me.

 

And now I stood again, alone and quiet as I faced Ellen’s grave. In the past twenty years, the monument, like me, had grown ancient and weathered. I assumed her lifeless body had done the same.

 

In the silence, a whisper, low and soft, could barely be heard, yet the voice was terrifying. It was something not of our world.

 

“The day of reckoning is upon you, human.”

 

The beast’s menacing declaration could be heard all around me. I inspected my surroundings to clarify where the voice was coming from, but it was impossible. The echo resonated against the bark on the hoary trees, beneath the canopy of dead leaves, and among the snowy mist which settled just slightly above the ground.

 

“Who’s there?” I asked in a shaky, old voice that had not spoken in twenty years, much less on the anniversary of Ellen’s death.

 

Silence. The wind howled and screamed, sending a cold chill down every inch of my trembling spine.

 

“I am the one who is feared by all: the face of grief and despair. I come by night to feed on souls, and your mortal companion suffered the same fate under my wrath.”

 

I gulped, feeling the knot in my throat beginning to tighten. “You are the Devil? Are you Death in carnate?”

 

Silence again. The beast’s loud breath droned from both above and below, wheezing and growing louder at each gasp.

 

“’In carnate?’ Must something be of flesh to be existent to you, human?”

 

“Then you are the Devil?”

 

The beast cackled in such a terrorizing manner that I cannot even begin to describe it. I felt my cold sweat which had exhausted itself just slightly above my brow, yet the chaotic blizzard continued to terrorize me. I watched my trembling breath ascend from the depths of my throat and dissipate in the cold air, growing colder by the minute.

 

And as my conversation with this – Devil – continued, I began to feel even more uncomfortable, even more convinced that reality was no longer the framework of my mind.

 

The beast must have noticed my staring at Ellen’s grave, because he once again addressed me in a cold, disturbing voice.

 

“I watched her throughout her life,” he gravely announced, “Followed her everywhere. Yes, she and I were very close. I was even present when she died.”

 

At this point, my mind was trampled with confusion. The Devil was indeed an evil being, but I was not a religious man, and therefore did not believe in such myths. But if this beast were the Devil, wouldn’t that prove his very existence?

 

And then I saw it. The silhouette of a man about my size, staring at me, watching me, waiting in the darkness beside the dead evergreen trees. I too, suddenly had the sense that he had been following me throughout my life. It was a bizarre feeling, almost the same experience one feels when they know someone’s watching them, but far darker. This man had been watching me ever since Ellen’s murder. He must have been involved.

 

“You killed her, didn’t you?” I questioned.

 

The silhouette remained still and calm, but we both knew the answer.

 

“You bastard,” I cursed beneath my shaken breath, “I’ve been searching for you for twenty years only to find you’ve been watching me all this time? What exactly is it you want from me? Why are you following me?”

 

I continued to explode with dark emotions, not allowing the beast to speak. I couldn’t help it. He had unleashed an array of feelings which had been building up inside of me since her death, and I would not cease to allow them from spilling out. All of them.

 

“How could you f*cking say you were close to her? You’re not even real. I was her life long companion! I was the only one with her when she died!”

 

The beast’s sinister cackle returned again to my ears, a noise I could not bear to withstand, something so evil the very thought of it could make me want to die.

 

“Do you even remember her death?” he growled, “Have you forgotten?”

 

My black heart full of hate for this creature was still not empty. It was impossible to spill everything out at once, and I hated him even more for that.

 

I caught my breath, the crisp air filling my lungs while I stared back at him, watching. “Who are you, really?”

 

He answered my question with the exact same question, in a rhetorical sense. “Who are you, really?”

 

The beast slowly stepped forward out of the shadows, a grey light which poured in through an opening in the trees illuminating his now unveiled face.

 

“Look inside yourself, human. Remember the events not as how you want to remember them, but how they really happened.”

 

It all hit me at once, like a freight train colliding into me, smashing every bit of existence from my conscience while taking me along for the ride. The man’s face: his weary yellow eyes, the grey streaks of hair and black spectacles, even his tyrannical, hooked nose belonged to me. This beast was a man, and that man was me.

 

The flashing lights quickly overtook me. My mind went blank, not knowing what to think or say. Everything was just a blur and nothing was real. And then I remembered the truth.

 

I see a man, myself, waiting in the darkness, much like the beast had done as a hidden silhouette, only this time he is clenching a blade tightly in his right hand. What exactly is he waiting for? Ellen. She needs to come out of the other room so he can take her life. He doesn’t know why he wants to take it, for that is far beyond his understanding of things, but he does know that it must be taken.

 

The white light beneath the crack of the door bends across the room as the door is slowly creaked open – Ellen behind it. She sees him with the knife and tries to run, but he’s too fast. He dives for her, jamming the iron blade into her back. She falls to the ground screaming, blood oozing out of her wound.

 

He climbs on top of her and yanks the knife out of her shivering body, only to jam it in again and again. The crimson blood stains the wooden floor, pouring out more and more as it is produced by the violent scene. Eventually, Ellen cannot take anymore, and her pierced, cold body falls limp in failure. Her last desperate gasp for air is quickly followed by a bitter chill, sweeping over her body and stealing every ounce of life from her.

 

What have I become?

 

For twenty long years, I’ve had hatred for the monster who took her life, only to find that the monster is me. And now, all I could feel was hatred towards myself.

 

The man who stood before me stepped forward, a disturbing grin across his face. He reached into his jacket and handed me the weapon – a beautiful, silver revolver. The last beautiful thing I would see.

 

“What is this?” I questioned, thoughts and emotions bouncing around in my mind as if they were about to tear through my skull.

 

“There is only one way to satisfy your desire for revenge,” he announced, “this is your chance.”

 

My god, I am crazy. I am talking to myself, deciding on whether or not I should live or die. But I killed Ellen, and she certainly did not deserve to die. So why should I? For my sin weighs every bone in my body down, more and more each day. She was perfect, and I took her life. So why should I deserve to live? Why should I have to live with this guilt?

 

I shouldn’t.

 

I raised the cold barrel of the revolver to my head, closing my eyes and gasping for air one last time, just as she had done that night so long ago.

 

The beast was right - I am the face of grief and despair. For all this time, I have craved vengeance to the extent that I would die for it. And here I stood before her grave, ready to satisfy that desire. It was only a pull of the trigger away…

 

I squeezed it. The light disappeared, everything went black, and suddenly nothing was existent. This is my day of reckoning – the day I have chosen to take the vengeance I have craved for twenty years. And in doing so, I have only destroyed myself. And I will never – in this life or the next – see my dear Ellen again.

Edited April 25, 2008 by Vercetti21

[Oxidizer]

Love the sound of this!

[silviodante]

This sounds amazing, but how do you switch between all of your stories?

[Vercetti21]

 

This sounds amazing, but how do you switch between all of your stories?

 

Every once in awhile I like to take a break from certain stories. This is just a short story that won't take up much of my time, so it shouldn't get in the way.

Edited December 19, 2007 by Vercetti21

[Vercetti21]

*deleted*

Edited April 24, 2008 by Vercetti21

[Oblivionz]

Looks great, man. Awesome, your writing skills have improved tremendously that I've seen since your first story to this, and to that I say, absolutely great. Keep it up.

[Vercetti21]

Thanks, man. Part two will be up soon.

[Vercetti21]

*deleted*

Edited April 24, 2008 by Vercetti21

[Chickstick]

That was a good piece of writing. The description near the beginning, particuarly, was well done, and remained so throughout the story.

 

Although I guessed what the twist was going to be after I had read just the start of the second chapter- good idea by the way- it was well written enough to make me read to the end.

 

Will we see more of this style of writing from you after VLV is complete? Your writing style, though good in your longer stories, seems suited to shorter tales such as this one.

[Vercetti21]

Yep. I'm going to add more 'emotion' so to speak to my future projects. The only reason I haven't done so to VLV is because I want style to remain thorough and uniform.

 

Thanks for the support, dude!

Edited January 4, 2008 by Vercetti21

[Vercetti21]

Bump.

 

Edited the first post, and generally cleaned the thread up a bit. Have a look-sy, and read the story if you wish.

[longkissgoodnight]

Its okay but I have seen better from you. I would not say: "it is your best".

 

All though I would have to say that your Michael Sterling story is your best.

[Vercetti21]

I know. Keep in mind I wrote this about two years ago, but have only recently posted it on GTAF. I've definitely improved since then, but I remember being pretty attached to this story at the time I wrote it. Also horror is not my best genre, so I thought it was decent for a first attempt.

[longkissgoodnight]

Ill be honest with you - it was a good try but now your better. Hopefully my status will be like this too. I have been trying very hard this past couple of days and this past 2 weeks.

[Vercetti21]

By the way, how did you read the whole thing, and manage to reply, in only five minutes after I bumped the topic? Either you're a speed reader, or didn't read it and critiqued anyway.

[longkissgoodnight]

To be honest - I did read it a while ago. But I quickly skimmed it now to check for anything new and I replied.