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Omnipresent Consumer



I Remember Winter





Location: Abandoned Church, Outskirts – Market Ward
Character: Norman Hollow
Story: The Return to Oblivion


Tick- Tick- Tick- Tick- Tick- Tick-

The incessant noise rattled through his mind. With a brief glance he eyed the contents of his watch. Each beautiful stroke of the gold tourbillion shimmered in his enthralled eyes.

”Yes, yes my faithful watch- Dance a bit longer until that fateful hour.”

He mused to himself as he returned his gaze to a more pressing matter. Before him, bound to make-shift crosses, was a mother and her two young sons. Their faces captivated Norman in an indulgent revel. Every second that chipped away was neatly stored in his mind. Moment by moment he came closer to hearing their cries. Pleasure began to well up, the roiling power of it burned through his head, chest and loins. Breaking his gaze, he slumped back upon the pew, pushing his feet against the back of another.

”It is all for not- this fleeting hunger I have- I know- I cannot keep you forever…”

Rocking forward, his face would melt into the shadows, leaving only his perfect smile visible to their horrified eyes.

”I shall forever cherish your beauty. Such perfect innocence. Perfect.”

Slowly he would rise. Brushing the dust from his knees from where he had been praying.

Praying to nothing.

He chuckled.

”My belle femme-“

With a whisk of his left hand he would produce a key. Norman had begun his feast, it started with her hope.

”Did you think I was going to kill you?”

He sharply spat out at her muffled shrieks. Yet despite the overload of fear running through the mother, the two boys watched with a paltry idea of what was going on. Norman used various mixtures of nerve agents and high end drugs to sedate any person he wishes to feast upon. Their suffering is only measured by the severity of their beauty…

Glancing down, Norman would remove the gag from the youngest of the boys.

”What is your name boy?’

”Arthur…”

”Well Arthur, do you know why you are here?”

”I’m scared.”

”Do you know why you are here Arthur?”

”I’m scared… I want to go home… Let us go! Help!”

”HELP!

Norman violently lashed out, gripping the boy by the shoulders and slamming his head back into the large wooden beam of the cross. With a loud shriek, the boy begun to sob out in pain, crying profusely. It disgusted him, the pathetic whimpering and wailing of the weak. Children… Leaning down once more Norman would produce his slender blade and slip it silently into the boy’s throat. Masking his hand over his mouth, Norman silenced the gargling screech that bleated out. Like a dying lamb the boy kicked. Struggled with each pass of that sharp blade. With surgical precision he finished his cut.

No sign of life was left, not even a twitch or kick; in one fell motion he snapped the head clean off.

It was time Sigil knew of its sin…

”You are here because you are the future.”

He closed his eyes, inhaling the fresh scent of blood.

”A future that must be stopped. It is in the reflection of your eyes… This burning desire to escape the end. The burning discord caused by the ruling elite… The power that is being abused to further malign agendas and pseudo-wars. Filth and abuse poured upon the poor, sinking them beneath a mire of shifting mirrors. No… Not anymore… The future isn’t the answer, it is merely fuel to the fires in the Hell you live.”

Gripping the severed head of Arthur, he’d tote it up into the air, catching it.

”Your children are best remembered as the beautiful things they are, much the same as you my dear.”

As he turned his attention to the second son, Norman would toss the head atop a table.

”What is your name?”

With his bloody grip he would take hold of the second boy by his cheek and yank down his gag.

”HELP!”

The boy shouted out before he was promptly met with a blade.

”The sadness that spills out with each cut; with each slice- It pains me to feel it, to see it so easily painted in mere carmine. You are all suffering. The petulant swine Thomas Bravot, the frivolous whore Lian Feaorne and the meandering narcissist Ecstuffuan- They all deserve to be here with you, to feast upon your most beautiful of moments- to suffer with you.“

The boy kicked out and begun to push, wringing the crude wire bindings into his flesh.

”While I fail to continue my saw in my proclamation, and for that I am so sorry. I shall not fail to remember your face my boy, to remember you for what you are now.”

Norman begun to saw once more. Each quick stroke proved the same as the last, flesh cutflesh separated. Blood poured down his arms as he lifted the second boys head up. Her legs buckled slowly, yet had no ground to collapse upon. The binding buried itself into her flesh as she struggled and screamed. The gag in her mouth sopped spit with each gasping cry.

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Norman chuckled lightly as he set the second boys head next to his bothers. Wiping his blade over the lapel of his peacoat, Norman approached the hysterical mother. Gripping her tight by the hair he would slowly lift her gaze to his.

”You are not the future…”

He whispered as he inhaled the sweat upon her neck. Placing his blood soaked glove to her face, he’d grip it tight, pulling it to the side. Neurotic thoughts twinged in his mind briefly as he bit into her neck with a vicious kiss. She gasped, squirming away as he gripped her breast.

”You are nothing but beauty, and like a flower I shall pick you. Savoring your withering beauty as you die in my hands.”

Pushing off of her, Norman smiled softly and turned away. Returning his attention, Norman would saw from the still warm chest--- the Heart of Innocence. Much to the dismay of her, he continued to the second son and produced the Heart of the Future. Their small hearts fit neatly within one hand. Placing them next to the heads he would stride over to their mother.

”You will serve as a reminder to this world what is at stake- The innocence long forgotten and the future that will never be. And now you will serve as my ink-“

With a flick of his wrist he would slice her bound wrist open. The blood trickled down her arm- Collecting her blood within an empty well, he’d sit at the table across from the children.



Lian Feaorne
Tresondros Ecstuffuan
Thomas Bravot

, and all affiliated.

You have committed atrocities against us, the people. You who dare say you speak for us, represent us and help us- Say no more- You have lead the future into nothingness, and it was with our despair that fueled the feasting fires of your vanity. Well it is time that you see the hearts of those who have doomed. If the future is nothing, we shall take you there first.

~and I present to you,

The heart of the innocent,
The heart of the future.

I shall give you a thousand murdered futures and steal a thousand innocent souls.

I am coming for you,

Sincerely,

N.H.




Norman wrote with grace, each letter crafted to be a piece of art itself. The stunning calligraphy brought to life by the blood of a dying mother. A grim process he seldom used. Blood itself wasn’t much of an ink, but in this instance it would serve just fine. He knew that the ruling elites had no idea who he was, save Bravot of course. It didn’t matter much to Norman, after all he had all that he wanted.

”I know it must pain you dearly to see the headless corpses of your children. But I assure you that you will join them soon enough. First we must give you… some… depth.”

Norman would begin to seal them. Drop by drop the crimson wax splashed across the parchment, pooling up for a moment, only to be pressed into signet.

N.H.

It was a simple but eloquent seal belonging to his great grandfather.

Standing once again Norman started to package the heads in separate boxes. Each one neatly wrapped in fine clergy silks. The blood vanished beneath its crimson color, only leaving the sopping liquid beneath---trapped in the wooden effigy. He could only smile at the peace on their faces. Savoring the moment before returning his gaze to the letters. Attaching one for Bravot and Ecstuffuan.

”A marvelous proclamation of war, befitting for our tyrannical enemies.”

”Now for you my love, you are only befitting as a gift to Madame Lian- She will see you as I do. The beating hearts of your children still beat in your eyes, I can see them.”

Norman pulled her hair up, forcing her face to his. With a deep inhale, he buried his nose into her head. The sickly sweet smell of her sweat smoldered in his senses.

Fear---He could taste it.

”I know what I must do now…”

She could only struggle so much, he body was draining quickly from the blood loss. It was with her final kick that he began his painting. A single blink is all it took to miss it. The slender blade of his slipping into her left socket and in one twist sever her eye.

It was passion for him, burning inside… He violently tore away her gag and pressed his mouth to her gargling scream.

”Yes… yes…”

He would move in for a the right eye as he tightened his grip upon her hair. In the same motion her left eye would fling out of her socket and with that she’d screech.

”MERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRCCCCYYYYYYYYYYYYY”

Norman froze. His passion died instantly as she sobbed wildly. The pain caused her to weep. It was the death of her children that prompted what happened next. She begun to slam her head into the post. Violent twack after violent twack. He found it quite amusing to the point of loosening his grip on her hair. The guttural cry with each hit she took disgusted Norman.

”Are you done? You should see yourself now, you look like a fool.”

Taking possession of her head once more. Norman would reach over to the table and take the hearts.

”You will be with them once again.”

As Norman placed the hearts to her face, she froze. Her body could do nothing more than shiver.

”Can you still feel them beating?”

He whispered as he sat them back down.

She could hardly move, the withering effects of blood loss started to take control. Lifting her head back up he would slice from the inside of her mouth---ear to ear. Taking hold of the hearts once more he would violently shove them into her elongated mouth. The brutal cascade of blood caused her to gag as she silently died.

”Lian, you will love this…”

He whispered as he returned to his table once again. He would reach over and drop the needle on his record player. It had been abandoned in the church sometime ago. It was a relic of a bygone era from a world far away but not forgotten.

”I remember it well… The cool and biting winds that brushed across my young face. Vivid white caps on the pines. A familiar sound as you walked…”

Returning to the dead woman he would saw her head away much the same as her children before. Slice after slice, he continued his ramblings.

”Laughter was always there. Perhaps from my fellow schoolmates throwing snow balls or the sound of my sisters listening to my father tell one of his stories. It was always there… I miss it sometimes--- well- at least before I fell in love with beauty…”

With a larger box, he packaged the mothers head. Folding over the regal silks in such a manner as to add anticipation.

”Wonderful smells of cinnamon and fresh pine. The red, blue, yellow and green lights that marked a time to be happy. To revel in the solace of winter, to pray to our savior.”

Returning to her corpse, Norman cut from her chest---the heart. Placing it within a separate box, Norman would pop a disk from the laptop at his table.

The final two letters were placed upon their proper boxes.

The mothers head was for Lian.
The mothers heart was for the Media, and with that tape shows the entire execution from his computer camera.

”I remember winter…”

He said as he carried the boxes out the back door just as a delivery truck pulled up. Pausing for a moment, the driver hopped out, and Norman placed his gifts inside the truck and vanished into the crowd once again…

The Great Absolute's avatar

Omnipresent Consumer

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