So, I’ve been watching a fair amount of Monty Python lately, and a line stuck in my head and bloomed into something of a little idea. It’s a fair bit outside the original context of the line, but I liked it nonetheless.
Abel stood wearily before the ragged Jackson, both bloody and bruised, and without either breaking their gaze. Abel held the bat upon his shoulder, ready to swing if he had to.
“Why can't you leave us alone?” Jackson cried at his old friend, eyes filled with anger at what he saw as a betrayal of the greatest magnitude. “What harm have we done you?”
Abel laughed derisively, a silent snarl on his lips.
“What harm? How can you stand there and ask that? You've killed a dozen people, and for what? A lunatic who's conned you into thinking he'll be your redemption?” Abel sighed before continuing. “You're a fucking fool. An absolute moron. And worse than that, you're a murderer. I can't leave you to kill more people, not while I can do anything about it.”
“You don't understand Abel, you never could. You laughed at people who found their god, mocked them for being weak-minded. Well I've not only found my god, but he's found me as well. Lawrence is our saviour. He has led us through this dark and evil world to this place.”
“He's led you into the darkness, not away from it.” Abel yelled. “You're right, I never saw the point of believing in a god who doesn't care about you, but I can tell you now, your saviour couldn't care less about what happens to you. Your death would mean nothing to him, nothing. And that's the man you want to follow? Do the lives of others mean nothing to you either?”
Jackson's eyes filled with a passion, as if the words of Abel had sparked a fire in him.
“They are heathens, sinners who must be purged from this world. Unwilling to admit their transgressions, unable to change. Why should they be allowed to live when they have taken the lives of others, and the law would see them live out long lives in prisons where their every need is cared for.
“We are the fire that will cleanse this world, just as the flood attempted to wash away the evil before. I can't let you pass, you know that.”
“And I can't let you stop me. Not now, not with so much at risk.”
“You will not get past me, you will not reach the messiah.”
Abel's eyes steeled, and a manic grin spread across his face, the words finding their way to his mouth without his help.
“Your messiah? Oh no Jackson, he's not the messiah.” Crack. The pine of the bat connected with flesh and bone as he swung it hard and fast. Jackson's jaw broke immediately, and the skin split beneath the force, the pain and power behind the swing throwing him to the ground. “He's a very naughty boy.”
Abel looked down at the prone figure now at his feet, the sound of agony filled weeping enveloping him. He bent down and picked up the knife that Jackson had kept us his sleeve, that had clattered from his hand as he fell. He stood up and walked towards the door that had been guarded, but now stood vacant and waiting for him.
He reached it, and turned the cold metal knob, feeling the mechanism move behind it, and pushed the door open onto the chamber room. It was littered with the bodies of the followers, their necks opened from side to side in a dark display of fanaticism, and in the centre of the carnage and gore, his one white robe now stained a dark crimson, stood Lawrence, a knife in his hand and a child in his grip.
So I’ve spent some time this evening typing up and working on something I wrote down about a month ago. I’ll put it below a read more. Not sure if I’ll write more on it or not, but I’m quite happy with it currently.
John knew, the moment he had awoken aching and tired, that he was a dead man walking, and it had led him into the sewers of the city, a lantern in his cold hands to light the way through the foul waters, and twisting tunnels. He had, upon his waking, found himself the subject of a manhunt by the king’s watch, and knew he needed to escape, though had no idea how it was that he had ended up like this. Far behind him he heard the voices of a number of people, all members of the watch so far as he knew, echoing through the dark and dank tunnels, accompanying the methodical pace of those on a hunt for a dangerous animal.
“Shit.” He muttered to himself quietly, “Shit. Shit. Shit.” A fear filling him as he knew his followers gained ground on him. He reached his free hand up and brushed his hair back, a trait he’d picked up somewhere along the line to calm him when he was nervous or stressed. He immediately regretted the action, having remembered where he had run, what he was surrounded by, and what his hand had touched as he had travelled. He spared a glance at the hand in the lantern light, and wished that he hadn’t, grimacing at the thought of having spread what covered it in his hair. The moment ended as the voices came back to him and he began to move forward again, trying to find his way out of the warren of sewers through which he crept.
John knew he needed to get out of the city, to leave behind those he loved, but beyond that his mind was a blank, unsure where he was would go, knowing that if he escaped the watch would send runners to the nearby settlements to warn the local guards of him. His mind was hazy on many of the details of the preceding few days, but was clear on his current goal; escape the sewers and survive the winter night.
He’d been moving through the fetid sewers for nearly an hour at this point, from his best guess as he couldn’t see any light to indicate the time, and the guards have been following him the entire way, tracking him with their best. They’d been forcing him forward with no chance of a short rest, besides the few moments when he’d stopped to decide on his next route. Luckily the city had seen its way to putting signs at the tunnels intersections for any of the city workers that were unlucky enough to be sent into the sewers, ensuring they knew where they were, mainly to avoid them coming up covered in filth in the high end areas.
After an unknown amount of time to John, his lantern began to gutter, burning through the last of the oil he’d been able to grab on his way towards the closest drains. It threatened him with darkness, causing him to begin to beg it not to fail, before ignoring his pleas, and plunging him into darkness.
“No, not now, please. I know I’m close.” He muttered to himself and the now dark lantern, before dropping it to the waters, aware that it would further give away his route. “Gods above. Just need to keep moving. Must be near the wall.”
John forced himself ever forward, the ever-approaching sounds of the watch his constant, and unwelcome, companion. He began to ran, his now empty hand against the wall, keeping him aware of when the next intersection arose, where he had to fumble to find the engraved signs, and attempt to make out the words by touch, having to stop for longer than he wanted.
“K...n...o...w..l.” he began to make out before realising where he stood “Knowles Way, about half a mile from the wall, further than I’d thought.”
Soon after the intersection the voices become more than just wordless echo, and he began to make out what was being said.
“Sir, he must be close. The trackers have found a lantern in amongst the filth, and it’s still somewhat warm.” A young voice squeaked in the sounds of a man just into manhood.
“Good, we’re closing on him. Remember, the man is dangerous, and cannot be allowed to leave the city. He is to be taken back to the apothecary for examination. There is no restriction on weapons, but attempt to apprehend him.” Another voice, older, experienced, and hardened responded.
“Gods, they’re closer than I thought. Too close. They’ll be on me any minute.”
John broke into a run, his feet splashing loudly in the waters, but he no longer cared about stealth, seeking only to escape before they caught him.
“Over there. He’s down there.” Called a third voice, followed quickly by the sound of many people running. There was shortly the glow of a lantern in the tunnel behind him, but John’s eyes had accustomed to the darkness somewhat, giving him some semblance of sight, though his luck ended there as there was still only tunnel in from of him.
“Stop and give yourself over to us Goodman.” Called the older voice. “There is no escape for you.”
John ignored the order and carried on his path, following the bend of the tunnel, whilst fear bloomed within him, almost causing him to stop and give in.
The chase continued for the next half mile, with John narrowly ahead of the guards, with an occassional thunk as the bolt from a crossbow clatter against the not far behind him. Should he find himself in front of them in an open stretch it would be a clear shot for any who were decent with the weapon, but it was his luck that the final few tunnels tended towards being curved.
Shortly after he’d heard another thunk his exit loomed ahead of him, the open mouth of the tunnel that lead into the river that ran around the city, but it was a straight of some distance, and he knew that by the time he’d reached it the guards would have eyes on him fully. As he drew close to the opening he heard the guards round the final bend, and knew they had seen him.
“Stop Goodman.” Yelled the old voice, breath fast from the chase. “My men will shoot if you don’t, and you will have no escape after that.”
John continued forward and heard the twang of the string of a crossbow, and knew it had hit him as his left shoulder was pushed forward, throwing him off balance and into the river that now lay before him. He recovered himself as he came up from the cold waters, and began to swim as hard as he could to cross, knowing that with the watch’s armor and weaponry they were unlikely to follow him. He heard a few more crossbows firing, and felt the water hit his face where they struck just a breath away from him.
Soon he found himself on the other side of the river, far enough away that in the dark he was no target for the watch. He continued onwards regardless, moving towards the forest to find a spot to stop and rest, and try to get the bolt that was lodged in his shoulder out.
“Sir, we hit him, he’ll not be going far with that injury.” Said one of the younger watchmen at the tunnel’s mouth.
“Hit him? What in the name of the Gods is that going to do to him? We needed to stop him from escaping. He’s a damn abomination and needed to be destroyed.” The guard’s captain, and owner of the older voice John had heard, retorted quietly, seething with anger. “He’s across the river, and in that forest at this time of night we won’t have a chance to find him. He’s got a lead on us, and if he has any sense will keep increasing it. You fucking moron.” The captain punched the young watchmen, his anger finding an outsource, and walked away as the young man fell backwards into the filth. “Someone get the runners out, warn the villages and towns. We need to stop him.” He ordered. “And I’m going to go tell the king that he got away from us. I can only imagine what he’s going to do to me.”
John had carried on for a couple of miles before settling himself against a large oak. He was tired and sore, but he was out of the city, and at the moment that was what was important. He inspected the bolt that protruded from his shoulder, glad of his predicament only so far as it had stopped him feeling the pain it should have caused him. The broke the head off and pulled the bolt through, seeing in the moonlight that filtered through the trees the thick, black liquid it was coated in.
Two days ago John had died somehow, his mind not letting him remember the details, and tonight he had awoken in a strange chamber filled with chalk markings and thick tallow candles. Shortly after waking a figure had come over to him and told him that the watch was coming for him, told him how to escape, and told him what he was, with a laugh. A dead man walking.
So, after a prolonged period of putting off writing, mainly because I only did it when I felt an inspiration and even then only writing a few lines at a time, I thought it was about time I got round to finding a place I could post my bits and pieces. This blog will mostly be just the little things I work on, maybe occasionally a longer, ongoing piece. If you want to comment, provide feedback, make suggestions on improvements, or just ideas I can work on, please feel free.
