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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Death · #1001694
Life is short. Describing life is easy , living it is harder.
John watched as a man fell to his death. Three seconds of peace was promised to the man by John. He watched as both man and life came to an end. The sound of the man’s skull colliding onto the ground could be heard. A sound all on its own was haunting. The man’s life did not end in silence but to a man that does not exist anymore there was peace for him. The blood flowed from the man’s head forming into a puddle near John’s feet. Stepping into the puddle to come closer to the man, his shoes became heavy as the blood soaked into the sole of his shoes. John knelt by the dead mans torso and observed his body. Staring into the dead mans eyes he tried to get some kind of understanding. Dead men do not tell tales though. This is all John would do when faced with death. Stare into the eyes and see if he can read what kind of person this was. Happy, sad, or a person filled with misfortune. John closed the dead mans eyes as it became aware to him there was nothing left to look at but a decaying body. Walking away from the body John left behind any disoriented thoughts he had of figuring out what death might have meant to him.
This was all Johns life was about, waiting for death to come to him. Showing him the lives unwanted on this earth. Some end tragically, others just end because it was time to. None were easy to watch though. He was not sure if he made people face death or it has and always been coincidence that he happen to be there at that certain time of their demise. He stopped trying to figure out if it was fate or just dumb fucking luck he is there when this happens to people. All John can do is accept his misfortune of witnessing death.
As he neared a gas station, a sense of tragedy filled John’s soul. His mind filled with thoughts of pain and sorrow. This was a sign that death was near.
Entering the store John acted inconspicuous, acting like any other customer inside the gas station. His mind knew something terrible was going to happen at this place. In his mind he was chanting
‘Death Death Death’
There was no avoiding the fact that someone’s life was going to end at this gas station. Moving through the aisles he could only picture all the wrong that was to take place in this store. Robbery at gun point, or knives at play, maybe two spouses go at each other trying to kill one another. Anything could take place here just was not sure what exactly would take place. Walking through the magazine aisle he looked at the all the magazines on the shelf. Looking at the different articles that were on the covers he tried finding one that suited him. “War in Iraq” “Ten ways to make your man content” “Build your own house deck in five days” “Stripper turned playboy bunny, nude photos inside” He passed up all the magazines and picked up a can of dog food that was at the end of aisle on the shelf. Reading the label on the can of dog food John waited for a future he could not predict. An anxious feeling went through him as he waited for the next death to take place. This was not like John in any way since things of this nature should have been a normal occurrence to him by now. In his mind he repeated words.
‘Mass Murder’
‘Suicide’
‘Homicide’
‘Death’
‘Killed’
‘Killing’
Over and over John repeatedly tortured himself with his own way of thinking. Thoughts became incoherent to him. Derailed was his train of thought.
“Shut up will you…”
Just writing your life into motion “I don’t care what you are doing. I can hear you as you narrate my story and it is very irritating.” You rather nothing is written about you? You rather me end your life in a boring matter? Something around the lines of, John dies a beggar in a gutter? “No I just ask that you stop the dragging of the story and move it into a new direction.”
Right so let’s move on.
John knew nothing was going to happen in the gas station. He was in a state of mind where he was tired of being the one waiting for death come to him. He wanted to be the death giver. A change of character all on his own would be something he never expected himself to do. Taking from his coat pocket John pulled out a gun. A frantic John pointed the gun toward the cashier of the gas station.
He no longer had control of his own actions. From here on out he was working on an evil instinct that he never knew was part of him. Asking the cashier for the money from the register, the cashier acted as if he has always had a gun pointed at him before. John was going to need to do something a bit more serious to convince the cashier that this was a life and death situation. He moved the gun toward one of the customers and fired one round into the customer’s chest. The gun was turned back onto the cashier once more, there was fear filled in his eyes this time. This was the look John was waiting for from the cashier. Slowly the cashier put the money from the register into a small brown paper bag. Making sure no sudden movements would set off John as his index fingers was tightly against the trigger.
All took a turn for the worst as an explosion was heard from the exit door of the gas station. Looking toward the door was a panicked John as he saw his only escape route going up in flames. Smoke filled cutting any oxygen from the people trapped within the gas station. One by one every person fell to the ground. Laughter echoed coming from outside the store. John begged the narrator for a better ending to his life but it was too late. The narrator killed his main character. The gas station burned to the ground leaving behind ashes of people that will never be remembered.
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