Grit
01-10-2011, 09:31 PM
READ PART 1 FIRST
Erik walks through a crowded market, everyone busily moving on their own, following their own mortal concerns. What to eat for dinner, how can I sell more, how do I prove myself? Erik tries to scream at them, to tell them that it doesn’t matter, that every second they forget about is a second gone, never to be back again.
Then he is faced with a wall of thick cloud, blocking his way, preventing him from escaping from this market and moving on to the greatness beyond. Erik puts his hand out, touches the soft cloud and attempt to part it when a scream curdles his spine. He draws his hand back quickly and looks around, no one notices, they’re all too consumed by the moment. He drives his hands into the cloud, blood spurts from it, spraying his face and filling his mouth the earthy taste of life. Screaming fills his mind, the people around him scream, and Erik screams but he grits his teeth and parts the clouds, tearing sinewy white tissue like flesh and walks through.
David is there, his angelic face turns to Erik, and his fingers play sweet melodies on a harp.
“You have my harmony?” Erik asks as he holds a piece of music, so disgusting and terrible, no one could bear to hear it but with that harmony it could be beautiful, it could surpass humanity itself.
“Time is a poison and it’s coursing through my veins” David sings beautifully, his fingers manipulating the harp.
Erik wakes staring at the rings, the years, of the tree that made this shelter. He turns and finds David where he had found him every morning of the past month; heating water over the fire in a rickety tin container and writing in a journal. David is an odd man.
Every day that month they had left the house and adventured in the sunny fields that surrounded his humble home. They swam in crystal clear waters, cooling their heads by the salmon in hustling rivers when the sun was too hot. David knew so much about the surrounding geography; he knew every blade of grass and smooth river rock like he knew himself.
But now, Erik is tired of this. He's fed up. He has a plan to discover the truth behind this man. Beneath this god-loving yuppie is black sick, something dark and twisted. Something horrible and Erik needs to know. He has hatched a plan.
Erik stands and walks to David, placing a hand on his shoulder. “David, I had a most restless sleep last night. Do you know of any roots that will help me sleep? I am plagued by angry thoughts for my nemesis.”
David turns, sympathy clear on his eyes, oh how transparent his face is. “There is a flower,” he says, “It’s a potent medicine, used easily for sleep.”
That day David and Erik enjoy a stroll, David cultivates the flower. It is small, with large dark purple petals and a bright blue center. David pulls the petals carefully from the plant and places them in a sack he wears at his hip.
That night he crushes the petals and puts them in tea, which he brews for several hours. Finally he removes the kettle from the fire and places it on a pad on top of the table.
“One cup should do the trick,” He says and pours a cup of the tea. According to Erik’s plan, he had told David that he would make dinner that night as repayment for his hospitality.
When David is out of the house, Erik pours a large quantity of the tea into the soup’s pot and stirs. David returns and Erik puts the wood under the fire, and the soup boils furiously.
He removes the soup and pours David a generous quantity into a wooden bowl. “It’s a carrot soup, with special spices.” He tells David enthusiastically, his heart beating with excitement. Tonight, he would learn everything. All his time, this large chunk of his life would be gone for good reason, not wasted away.
David manages five of so spoonfuls of the hot soup before he passes out, his face slamming against the table. His cheek rests in a pile of steaming soup atop the wood table and Erik wastes no time.
He carefully removes the drawer's key from around David's neck. Then he opens the drawer where David keeps his journal. He slides the drawer open and pulls out it, placing it on David’s bed. Inside, is the journal, which Erik grips with two hands. The cover is thick, heavy and his hands shake with excitement as he opens it.
David’s writing is cursive lettering, very formal and obsessively neat. The first thing that shocks Erik is the date ; December 14th, 1445. The current year is 1923! Erik hastily scans the entry; I have never been one to focus on the past, or journal my life’s events, as I’ve had no cause, However, I now have cause. I sent Marilyn to buy me this journal as soon as it happened, I must leave knowledge of my discovery save anything happen to me. Mankind must know. Five days journey from this spot, is the key to eternal life.
Erik stares at the page of the book, and reads it again. He continues; I discovered a circle of stone, twenty feet high, with two large square stones on each side. One can cause the squares to depress, if one stands upon it. I wondered what would happen if one could stand upon both at once, so I asked Marilyn to help with it. When she called that she had stood upon the other stone, the seamless stonewall fell backwards and grated to the side, to create a doorway. I excitedly called Marilyn and we decided to enter.
The interior is beautiful, but I write in haste and do not want to describe it as I would likely do it injustice. However, we entered aged, wrinkled and stiff and left as beautiful and spry as our prime years of youth. Before entering, my breathing was ragged and hoarse, but the pain is gone. I believe we have entered the realm of God.
I purchased this journal only to convey my discovery to fellowman in case I cannot share it myself. However, I don’t see that. It seems that God has blessed my prayers…Miracles happen. Signed, David and Marilyn.
Erik looks into the drawer and sees a photograph. It’s of David, so clearly David with his transparent emotions painted on his face (joy in this photo), but aged and withered. He has his arm around an old woman, Marilyn I assume.
He turns to the next page, it is written with a shaky hand and there are blotches where liquid has corrupted the words; July 27th, 1689. I write today, not in celebration as my last entry but in terrible pain. Marilyn has been taken from me. She traveled to the market at the nearby town to purchase milk and never returned. I ventured there myself and was broken to learn that she had been murdered.
The bottom of the page is torn and crumpled. Erik flips through, scanning because there is much written. After Marilyn’s death, David became much more militant about his journal. He explored a way to bring her back to life; “I have thought over and over and believe there is a way to bring my Marilyn back. However, I am left with a dilemma. How can I trust a fellow man to open the door to eternal life knowing what my fellow man is capable of? I must trust this person, God deliver them to me.”
Erik continues scanning, David writes of the fear that came with his gift; “I fear to adventure, for worry that my gift is taken from me. I am free of aging and disease but am as vulnerable as anyone to the tip of a sword of the hands of a vagrant. I spend most my time alone, in this familiar realm but I do profess that I grow bored and lonely. Oh so lonely.”
Erik scans the words of a page when he catches his name; “….man named Erik. God answered my prayer in such a spectacular fashion. A dream that my prayers would be answered and then he delivers someone to me. I had not seen anyone in many months and someone is dropped right in front of me. He is the one that will help me open the gate.”
Erik scans through the end of the journal, mostly cataloguing their adventures together and kind words from David about Erik, which Erik found highly amusing considering his true constitution. David plays the part of prey in social situations.
He is shocked out of his research by the sound of groaning. He turns and David stirs, sits up and looks at him, soup dripping from his face onto the table in wet plops. David blinks several times, Erik holds the journal open, too shocked to do anything. David takes in Erik and then looks at the soup.
Erik walks through a crowded market, everyone busily moving on their own, following their own mortal concerns. What to eat for dinner, how can I sell more, how do I prove myself? Erik tries to scream at them, to tell them that it doesn’t matter, that every second they forget about is a second gone, never to be back again.
Then he is faced with a wall of thick cloud, blocking his way, preventing him from escaping from this market and moving on to the greatness beyond. Erik puts his hand out, touches the soft cloud and attempt to part it when a scream curdles his spine. He draws his hand back quickly and looks around, no one notices, they’re all too consumed by the moment. He drives his hands into the cloud, blood spurts from it, spraying his face and filling his mouth the earthy taste of life. Screaming fills his mind, the people around him scream, and Erik screams but he grits his teeth and parts the clouds, tearing sinewy white tissue like flesh and walks through.
David is there, his angelic face turns to Erik, and his fingers play sweet melodies on a harp.
“You have my harmony?” Erik asks as he holds a piece of music, so disgusting and terrible, no one could bear to hear it but with that harmony it could be beautiful, it could surpass humanity itself.
“Time is a poison and it’s coursing through my veins” David sings beautifully, his fingers manipulating the harp.
Erik wakes staring at the rings, the years, of the tree that made this shelter. He turns and finds David where he had found him every morning of the past month; heating water over the fire in a rickety tin container and writing in a journal. David is an odd man.
Every day that month they had left the house and adventured in the sunny fields that surrounded his humble home. They swam in crystal clear waters, cooling their heads by the salmon in hustling rivers when the sun was too hot. David knew so much about the surrounding geography; he knew every blade of grass and smooth river rock like he knew himself.
But now, Erik is tired of this. He's fed up. He has a plan to discover the truth behind this man. Beneath this god-loving yuppie is black sick, something dark and twisted. Something horrible and Erik needs to know. He has hatched a plan.
Erik stands and walks to David, placing a hand on his shoulder. “David, I had a most restless sleep last night. Do you know of any roots that will help me sleep? I am plagued by angry thoughts for my nemesis.”
David turns, sympathy clear on his eyes, oh how transparent his face is. “There is a flower,” he says, “It’s a potent medicine, used easily for sleep.”
That day David and Erik enjoy a stroll, David cultivates the flower. It is small, with large dark purple petals and a bright blue center. David pulls the petals carefully from the plant and places them in a sack he wears at his hip.
That night he crushes the petals and puts them in tea, which he brews for several hours. Finally he removes the kettle from the fire and places it on a pad on top of the table.
“One cup should do the trick,” He says and pours a cup of the tea. According to Erik’s plan, he had told David that he would make dinner that night as repayment for his hospitality.
When David is out of the house, Erik pours a large quantity of the tea into the soup’s pot and stirs. David returns and Erik puts the wood under the fire, and the soup boils furiously.
He removes the soup and pours David a generous quantity into a wooden bowl. “It’s a carrot soup, with special spices.” He tells David enthusiastically, his heart beating with excitement. Tonight, he would learn everything. All his time, this large chunk of his life would be gone for good reason, not wasted away.
David manages five of so spoonfuls of the hot soup before he passes out, his face slamming against the table. His cheek rests in a pile of steaming soup atop the wood table and Erik wastes no time.
He carefully removes the drawer's key from around David's neck. Then he opens the drawer where David keeps his journal. He slides the drawer open and pulls out it, placing it on David’s bed. Inside, is the journal, which Erik grips with two hands. The cover is thick, heavy and his hands shake with excitement as he opens it.
David’s writing is cursive lettering, very formal and obsessively neat. The first thing that shocks Erik is the date ; December 14th, 1445. The current year is 1923! Erik hastily scans the entry; I have never been one to focus on the past, or journal my life’s events, as I’ve had no cause, However, I now have cause. I sent Marilyn to buy me this journal as soon as it happened, I must leave knowledge of my discovery save anything happen to me. Mankind must know. Five days journey from this spot, is the key to eternal life.
Erik stares at the page of the book, and reads it again. He continues; I discovered a circle of stone, twenty feet high, with two large square stones on each side. One can cause the squares to depress, if one stands upon it. I wondered what would happen if one could stand upon both at once, so I asked Marilyn to help with it. When she called that she had stood upon the other stone, the seamless stonewall fell backwards and grated to the side, to create a doorway. I excitedly called Marilyn and we decided to enter.
The interior is beautiful, but I write in haste and do not want to describe it as I would likely do it injustice. However, we entered aged, wrinkled and stiff and left as beautiful and spry as our prime years of youth. Before entering, my breathing was ragged and hoarse, but the pain is gone. I believe we have entered the realm of God.
I purchased this journal only to convey my discovery to fellowman in case I cannot share it myself. However, I don’t see that. It seems that God has blessed my prayers…Miracles happen. Signed, David and Marilyn.
Erik looks into the drawer and sees a photograph. It’s of David, so clearly David with his transparent emotions painted on his face (joy in this photo), but aged and withered. He has his arm around an old woman, Marilyn I assume.
He turns to the next page, it is written with a shaky hand and there are blotches where liquid has corrupted the words; July 27th, 1689. I write today, not in celebration as my last entry but in terrible pain. Marilyn has been taken from me. She traveled to the market at the nearby town to purchase milk and never returned. I ventured there myself and was broken to learn that she had been murdered.
The bottom of the page is torn and crumpled. Erik flips through, scanning because there is much written. After Marilyn’s death, David became much more militant about his journal. He explored a way to bring her back to life; “I have thought over and over and believe there is a way to bring my Marilyn back. However, I am left with a dilemma. How can I trust a fellow man to open the door to eternal life knowing what my fellow man is capable of? I must trust this person, God deliver them to me.”
Erik continues scanning, David writes of the fear that came with his gift; “I fear to adventure, for worry that my gift is taken from me. I am free of aging and disease but am as vulnerable as anyone to the tip of a sword of the hands of a vagrant. I spend most my time alone, in this familiar realm but I do profess that I grow bored and lonely. Oh so lonely.”
Erik scans the words of a page when he catches his name; “….man named Erik. God answered my prayer in such a spectacular fashion. A dream that my prayers would be answered and then he delivers someone to me. I had not seen anyone in many months and someone is dropped right in front of me. He is the one that will help me open the gate.”
Erik scans through the end of the journal, mostly cataloguing their adventures together and kind words from David about Erik, which Erik found highly amusing considering his true constitution. David plays the part of prey in social situations.
He is shocked out of his research by the sound of groaning. He turns and David stirs, sits up and looks at him, soup dripping from his face onto the table in wet plops. David blinks several times, Erik holds the journal open, too shocked to do anything. David takes in Erik and then looks at the soup.