Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Please try to keep your response under 300 word (recommended, not law). I will re-blog your post to my site.
Tell me about it. I’ve faced many a danger, both in and out of uniform, but nothing like those men who set themselves up as- or maybe were born – evil. Lots of folks think there ain’t any such thing as good and evil, but they’re wrong. I’ve seen good in my life; good that made me cry, made my heart ache for the things an old soldier like me don’t get. And shouldn’t expect to get.
A soldier’s a cog in the wheels of the military, there to be used and directed as needed by those who’ve never known the real meaning of evil. Used to be I knew what that meant, not knowing the real meaning of evil. Used to be, I lived in one of them houses with a wife and child, couple cats and a couple dogs. Even had that white picket fence.
Been a long time ago, that. See, one day this man decided that he didn’t like… I don’t know… the color of my wife’s hair? Her eye? How tall she was? Or maybe just cause she was wearing an orange swimsuit. So he destroyed her. Destroyed the kids and the cats and the dogs.
Been a soldier since. Evil can come from the man across the border, at the door to the different church, the black to my white. Course, evil can come from anywhere, from your brother, father, friend. From greed and hate and envy, from worshiping the differences instead of the similarities.
Truth is, there weren’t no evil until man learned to think. Learned to want for hisself and not his community.
Now, I’ve had my say and I don’t expect most of you to understand or to care. Ain’t much care in this world either, but one of these days, we’ll be starting over. Just me and a few like-minded individuals who want things better.
If you ain’t one of us, if you’re oneof’em who don’t care, I suggest you started digging your shelter now…….
“Sad story, that. She was never the same again, so I heard. Didn’t know her my own self, but I knew some who knew her.
How do you fall into yourself and drown, you ask?
Might fine question, that.
It was this way. The boy was never right, not from the beginning. Shy thing. Wouldn’t make eye contact with no one, wouldn’t speak, hid before his Momma’s skirts like he was afraid of the world.
People said he was touched in the head, but I never thought so. From what I heard, mind you, not knowing the boy my own self, I was always thinking it weren’t his head which was touched, but his heart. Seemed like the boy was born without a heart where ones supposed to be.
As he grew, seemed he just paled away, fading to nothing. See, there weren’t nothing inside to support his body so he just collapsed into hisself and drowned.
Yeah, sad, but that’s life sumtimes. Don’t know what happened to the boy after he drowned in his own blood. Heard once they buried him. Another time, that he just grew so small, he disappeared.
Where do I think he migha gone? Good question that.”
He touched his chest, where his heart didn’t lay, and just smiled.
He cupped his hand just so, letting the rays of the sun golden his fingertips as if he held a tiny sun inside. He wasn’t a magician. More of a teacher, guiding those who listened and heard and saw.
“There has to be some way to destroy him.”
“Shootings always worked for ya’ll,” the Sheriff said pleasantly.
“After Waco, we’d be crucified!”
“Well,” with a chuckle, “That was ya’ll fault ya know.”
“Whatever. We need to take this cult down now.”
“Don’t rightly think it’s a cult, son,” the Sheriff said, but no one heard.
The FBI agents huddled, whispering plans.
“Gonna get me a donut,” the Sheriff said and walked out of his office, grabbing a jelly filled on his way out the back door.
“Jake,” he said into his cell. “You gotta get out of there.”
“Perhaps dying is my way to making my point.”
“Then it’s a stupid point! Just take yours and go.”
“Mine are already gone.”
“Then why the hell didn’t you go with’em?”
“My path is not to run from hell.”
“God-a-lordy!” The sheriff swore as Jake hung up. Stuffed the donut into his mouth.
He hated Mondays.
And they thought it’d really kill me. Twenty-three years. Bah. A heartbeat in my world. Should have cut off my head or put a spike through my heart. But wait… neither of those would have killed me either. As if I was a vampire.
Stupid humans and their stupid superstitions.
Wasn’t easy to crawl out. Soil gets packed down in 23 years, grass has time to dig in roots. Not to mention the coffin and the vault. Those were the easiest to bypass. Finally, shaking roots and dirt from my hair, I pushed through to the surface and rose, looking grandly around me.
The folks at the graveside service two graves over didn’t take to my appearance so grandly. Typically, they screamed and ran, flowers and dirt flying everywhere. The minister held ground for a moment longer, looking as if he wanted to be brave, save his flock from the demon.
As if. Nor was I a demon, but I guess one can’t expect humanity to know the different. But ghee, my skin isn’t even red! Don’t demons have red skin? Glowing eyes.? Horns? That sort of thing?
Anyway, I waved as the minister ran, heels flying, then kicked up some heels of my own.
The sun was shining. Clouds drifted lazy. Green grass except around the dug grave.
A beautiful day to be alive!
Welcome back to the world, Loki! Welcome home!