Genesis Revelation

Genesis Revelation

‘Let there be light, and there was light’.

Every light that was ever lit created shadows.

Once created, they do not go away.

From the earliest times our primitive ancestors knew something that we, in our arrogance had forgotten. Myth, story, religion, all were devised by wise men to pass on this primordial message.  We came to believe that these tales were allegorical; we lost sight of the literal truth. Mankind needs light to survive.

Throughout the whole of civilisation we had used light to drive them away. As science progressed, we developed better and better ways of lighting our world and we forgot them, dismissed them.

But they were only driven off, not destroyed. They receded, resentful, like circus tigers before a whip, but like the tigers they waited for a moment’s inattention. They lurked, just out of sight, waiting, watching, serried ranks of patient malevolence, distorted phantasms, cruel parodies of our symmetry, biding their time. Once the light died, they returned. When the electricity failed, millions died, overwhelmed by the sentient darkness, a flood tide no longer held back by our artificial defences.

Darkness is the natural order of things.

Here, now, in the flickering, guttering embers of my last fuel, I know the truth. Just beyond sight, they wait for me.

Hungry for my soul.

‘the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.’

238 words

@nickjohns999

This story was written from a prompt in the Inspiration Monday Challenge

Joined at the Hip

Joined at the Hip

It is one thing to be executed for a crime you didn’t commit, but I may fry for a crime that hasn’t happened.

“A brutal murder? Why won’t you people listen?”

“Tell me again. It’s a New Year, after all.”

“What’s the use?”

“I guess because you are in a classic ‘nothing to lose’ situation. If you don’t convince me, Boy, you’ll fry, sure as God made little green apples. So go on, humour me. I’ve got the time, or have you got someplace else to be?” he smiled at his own joke before lighting up a Marlboro and blowing a plume of blue smoke across the table between us.

He had a point.

“OK, where do you want me to start?”

“Let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start” he half sang, chuckling again.

I could get fed up with this guy in no time at all, but I hadn’t had a visitor in three months and even his company was better than nothing; certainly better than the collection of assorted wierdos and psychopaths that passed for company on death row. I stalled.

“Before I start, tell me again where you fit into this madhouse and why you are only talking to me now?”

“Board certified State Psychiatrist for the great state of Texas, duly empowered to enquire into any and all circumstances regarding the mental health and wellbeing of our condemned prisoners. You see, Boy, the state legislature is delighted to support the execution of violent felons, eager even, in some cases, but it is kinda sensitive to criticism that we might be killing mad violent felons. Bad for tourism, especially from our more sensitive cousins in the North East. And I’m talking to you now ‘cause your case interests me and it’s a slow day in the office.”

He smiled, drew again on his cigarette before mashing out the half smoked butt in an ashtray that he had already half filled since we arrived in the interview room.

“She’s not dead, you know.”

“So you let me know where we gonna find her and I’ll get this whole business cleared up lickety-split.”

“You won’t find her. She’s not dead.”

“So you said already. So all that blood they found in your motel room, the forensics boys messed up? Got it mixed up with some other woman’s blood? Not your girlfriend at all? Help me out here.”

“You’ll never believe me if I told you what really happened. Hell, I still don’t believe it and I saw it firsthand. And if I tell you, especially you, what I saw, you’ll just end up applying the electricity to my temples instead of my whole body.”

He smiled his teeth only smile and reached for his cigarettes.

460 words

@nickjohns999

This story is  a work in progress, using prompt 2 in Cara Michaels' #WIPflash week 1

1814 Overture

© Lora Mitchell

1814 Overture

“We must flush these rats from their holes, Number One, their continued defiance is an affront to our Sovereign’s forces. Once this task is complete we can be about our main mission.”

“How shall we accomplish this, Captain? Are not the enemy entrenched in a well prepared, fortified position and prepared for our onslaught?”

“We have our new weapon to deploy against them. The effect will be to shock and awe them. Mark my words, Number One, men will sing of this day for many a year. Helmsman, bring us about. Prepare the Congreves! We’ll dismast that dishrag ensign first.”

100 words

@nickjohns999

This story was written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers Challenge

Wall Street Shuffle

Wall Street Shuffle

Responsibility and optimism are the keystones of a true gentleman’s character they had said. George always tried to follow that maxim.

Like his brothers, he had volunteered. Unlike them, he had returned. The men followed him, even across the Somme, trusting that a gentleman knew what he was about. They had ragged him, of course, but all in good fun, about his habit of carrying an umbrella instead of a rifle. ‘More likely to get rained on than shot. None of you buggers can shoot straight, why should the Hun be any different?’ praying that were true.

Now, his business had died too, mown down by unseen and inexplicable forces, he would face up to the failure that would put good men in the poor house. That was responsibility, he thought. And optimism? Well, he still had his umbrella; and two hundred feet wasn’t really that far down, was it?

150 words

@nickjohns999

This story was written for Angela Goff's Visual Dare 'Between'