Vengeance pt3

Vengeance pt3

A Story by joenum83
"

A story of the dangers of revenge.

"

It wasn't the open door or the mess of his room or even the fact that his most precious book was missing that startled Ken after he ventured into his basement. What startled him was the threatening voice of Cory from the top of the stairs. “What were you doing with my girl at the party? Word got around and they say she was down here with you and then she left with you.”


Ken stopped picking up the papers in the room and turned to answer. All he could see was the silhouette of an angry man standing in the only true exit of the room. But this was not true. A slight breeze tickled the hairs on his arm and just out of direct vision Ken noticed that one of the blackened basement windows was ajar. Ken did not dare look away to inspect more closely with Cory staring down from the threshold.


“Well, are you going to answer me? Or do I have to come down there and talk some sense into you?”


Ken knew that by 'talk' he really meant 'beat.' Any puny kid or ignorant party goer who looked at his girl has experienced the meaning of this in the past. “Word is she isn't your girl anymore.”


“Bullshit!” Cory began to storm down the stairs.


“Word is she walked in on you and your other girl. Apparently she hasn't been your girl for months; Sarah just didn't know it yet. Isn't that right?” Ken was backing around his couch as Cory came to the bottom of the stairs. “I said, isn't that right!” The handgun Ken pulled from under the couch stopped Cory in his tracks; Cory's head only inches from the barrel from the gun. “Isn't that right you piece of s**t!”


Never had anyone pulled a gun on him before. Tears began to run down his cheeks as he whimpered “Yes” over and over again. How else would a man of this kind handle this situation? His life was no longer in his control. It was now solely in the hand of Ken, a man he neither knew nor understood. He didn't know if Ken could really kill another man. So he just complied completely and fully hoped he would live past that moment. It is at moments of complete loss of self determination that a man is defined; and Cory had shown that he was useless.


“How dare you come to my house threatening me for s**t I've never done? What gives you the god damned right to threaten me? Isn't that why you came here? You had to come down here and defend your manliness by beating the crap out of me because someone else may have thought that your girl had a drunken go at me. What kind of man does that make you? You have to defend every little insecurity of yours by breaking noses and teeth.” Ken turned to face the window, looked to the table, and then back to the window all while keeping the gun on Cory. It was her who took the book and got out that window before he got here. Somehow she made the mess and got out with something more dangerous than the gun he was pointing at her ex. “You better go.” The words flowed with a serious growl. “Go!”


There is nothing more unnerving than hearing a grown man cry. Ken felt a little gratification as Cory ran up the stairs crying like a baby; yet he was still uncomfortable sitting on the couch with the gun across his lap. Something big was at work and he felt sorry for anyone who got in its way. Ken looked to the ceiling “Cory, you should run and enjoy this last day. It's coming for you, and you will not survive.”


* * *


Cory stopped to catch his breath outside of Sarah's dorm room before knocking. He just wanted to see her and explain everything, to apologize for what he's done. He'd stopped crying but his cheeks were still wet and both eyes were bloodshot. He knocked “Sarah, are you in there? It's me, Cory, please talk to me.” No answer. According to his watch she should've been out of class for the day by now. He tried knocking again but there was still no answer. She wasn't there. Maybe she was hiding out over in Judith's room. He crossed the street and come to her friend's door. There was no answer here either. He was about to give up when Judith came around the corner.


“Judith! Where's Sarah? Have you seen Sarah? I have to see her.”


“Sarah, I don't know where she went. She flipped out on me before class. Plus what do you care anyways? You're the creep who cheated on her. She's not going to want to have anything to do with you.” She passed by him and unlocked the door.


“Please, I have to see her.”


Entering her room, “Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you. Goodbye.” The door closed.


He started to cry again and collapsed with his back to the wall and slid down to the floor. Nothing mattered anymore. No one cared for him. His parents had just sent him to college to get him out of their hair. Ya, he was the star linebacker on the high school football team, but he'd been brought home by the cops in the middle of the night more times then he could count. Now that he was over eighteen he was probably just going to go to jail on the next trip; so he'd been staying out of trouble except when he knew he wouldn't get caught. But he'd been caught this time. But oh, how it would have been better if it were the cops who had caught him. He wouldn't ever have to face these people if he was in jail. In jail you don't have to answer to your peers, from what he's heard you just have to survive. That would be much better than having to deal with the shame he has not only caused, but that he now has to bear. “It's all my fault.”


Cory then got up and walked outside. It had started to rain. The sky had been clear not ten minutes ago. Now black clouds covered the sun and lightning lit up the terrain. He was getting drenched but did not care. Nothing mattered anymore. Not even the expensive school jacket he was wearing. The water would definitely do some damage to the leather.


He was almost back to his dorm when an especially bright flash of lightning streaked across the sky above him. He looked up and saw something ahead of him standing in the sidewalk. It was in the shape of a man; but it couldn't have been a man. There was something unsettling about it. For instance, there was a breeze but its coat did not stir. Its face could not be seen for the brim of a hat sat low in the front and the collar of a coat rose high. Cory didn't really notice he was staring at it so hard until it looked up at him. The eyes, those points of red light transfixed him where he stood, not glowing but streaming strait into his own eyes, holding him in place.


Cory was in a panic but unable to react. Yet again he had no control over his own life, but this time he did not understand who was holding the gun. A crack of lightning went off somewhere in the distance and the thing on the sidewalk was gone. Cory had gained control of himself again. Immediately he ran to his room.


He paid no attention to what anyone said to him in the halls as he dripped on every floor and flung water on every wall. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that he got to his room and hid under his covers. Everyone was coming out into the hallways, just staring at him as he ran past trying to get to his room.


Finally he made it to his own room. He ran inside only to pace across the floor in worry. In passing the mirror he noticed something strange about his reflection. He returned to the mirror to find his coat covered in blood. A panic took over his body; shaking, he realized why everyone was staring at him. He looked over at the clock on the night stand. “It can't be that late.” Hours had passed since he last checked his watch back at Sarah's dorm. “This is impossible! How did this happen?”


A knock at the door “Cory, this is the police; we know you're in there. Open up.” Cory went into shock; skin gone pale and whole body shaking. When they busted down the door he was on his knees. “You are under arrest for the murders of two girls, names Sarah Smith and ...”


Cory passed out.


* * *


Sometime later Cory was dressed all in orange and strapped into a metal chair in a small glass room. Outside of the room were benches filled with family members of the two dead girls and a few prison guards to keep watch to make sure no one would try to kill him themselves before he died from the poison gas. Cory was convicted to die for the murders of his girlfriend and the girl he was caught with by his girlfriend. Cory didn't do it, but his prints were present on the bodies, which were found hanging from some old tree just off campus. They were apparently a bloody mess, and all the blood on his coat was that of the girls. Cory didn't know how it happened; and he will never know. The lever was pulled and the room filled with a green cloud completely obscuring his view of the hate filled faces staring, stabbing at the end of his life. Just before passing out the smoke cleared in one spot of glass. This gave him a clear view of the face of one of the guards, whose eyes were glowing red. It was over; his life was now no longer in anyone's control.


* * *


Ken had found his book under the tree before the police arrived. He needed it; he had an important job to do. He was working in his basement with a dried piece of clay and a knife. Continually he checked a page in that infernal book as he carved something onto the clay tablet. The carving took quite some time so his mind wandered a bit. He knew why and how Sarah was killed but never could tell the police. They would never believe him. Sarah was killed because she didn't do the preliminary rituals before summoning a demon to kill her ex boyfriend. That probably wouldn't go over to well. “This book's going behind a lock when I'm done.” No one was there to hear him, but it needed to be said aloud for anything that might be in the room.


He was about finished with the carving and he started to chant “demon, I bind you” a nick of clay fell to the floor “demon, I break you” another small nick “demon, I send you back from whence you came.” Ken lifted the tablet, ready to break it over his knee when Paul opened the stairway door and yelled down.


“They just offed Cory. What you doin' down here anyways?”


Annoyed, Ken answered “Art project.”


“Well, you've been down here a while. You want a beer?” It must've been something Paul said, because when Paul saw that Ken's eyes were red, Ken shot three bullets into Paul's head.


“I've got my own.”


The end.

© 2010 joenum83


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joenum83
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Added on January 9, 2010
Last Updated on January 9, 2010

Author

joenum83
joenum83

Oklahoma City, OK



About
Hello, I'm a programmer in Oklahoma City who loves reading and wants to try a hand at writing. I'm still on my first attempts at this and so far my writing always ends up a little dark. I should have.. more..

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A Story by joenum83