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Sam, The First of the Brothers Ten-Original Short Story-Splatter Fantasy-Rough Draft |
(They Came From Behind The Rain)
AKA
(Sam, The First of the Brothers Ten)
by
Daniel Robinette & Matt Thompson
Revisions by
Daniel Robinette, Matt Thompson
Current Revisions by
Daniel Robinette, Matt Thompson
I come from the water
I crawled upon the shore
I left my brothers there
I got what I came for
I sucked that hot air in
And rolled upon the sand
Emerged beneath the sun
To be a man.
I come from the water
I come from the water
That weren't no easy thing
It's more than nature
It's like my destiny
I stood upon these legs
And held my head up high
Emerged beneath the sun
To start a new life
I Come From the water
Life in the desert
Just to be together
The sand forever
The same forever
It moves beneath me
It pulls my body
My pulse beats hotter
So far from the water
I love to see the sun
In spite of all it's done
I pray for shade and rain
I pray to live again
I come from the water
-The Toadies
I Come From the Water
I
The candle flickers dimly inside the decaying brothels foyer. A gray old hand trembles, holding it. He is around forty, rangy, and rabid looking. Hollow eyes glare daggers in the candlelight. Years of wandering the seemingly endless stretches of road and trail has taken its toll. He is old beyond his years. Alas, it was his choice to answer the call to teach the masses the True Word of God. He traded his youth for wisdom. And it is that wisdom that holds the key for the flocks salvation when the Wretched Day arrives. But why contemplate former youth for that is fools vanity. "Enough reminiscing," the old man says to himself, "Today is the coming of the Strange Aeons." With a sigh, he runs his bony hand through his crusted hair. His thoughts begin to race and as he loads his shotgun he begins to pray. Today he is going outside.
God had sent the flood. Like the first great deluge, filth and sin had been eradicated and the Scales of Equilibrium were made even again. The remaining Faithful who helped restore the Scales regained His guardianship. His protection was conditional though, and His Flock had to keep tribute to Him with sacrifice. The sacrifices His Flock made were rewarded so with His gifts. Now this time is different. God has become ambivalent towards the acts of the Congregation. His Flock has forgotten him. His Congregation have found new Gods to sacrifice to. Blasphemers!! Not all of the Flock have strayed from the Shepherd. Some of us still retain the old ways. My brothers and I are the cabal that protects His True Way. We are the Blessed Knowers of His True Name. We are the Blessed Teachers of His True Word. We are the Finders of His Lost.
And we must never utter His True Name. I, Samuel Marsh, the first of the Brothers Ten, am the Keeper of the Book of Aegis.
After finding shelter in the dilapidated brothel, Samuel Marsh waited the flood out. He had been without his medication for around three weeks. He did not care. The world was ending. He had seen in the city the rioting, pillaging, rape and fire that his mother had warned him about. God rest her soul. She had raised him right. Sam didn't have any real education, but his mother did teach him to read. Most importantly, she taught Sam and his Brothers the old ways. The only books Sam had ever read were His Book and an old military survival guide his daddy left him. Rats became his source of food and the clothing of harlots and pimps gave him shelter from the cold damp reality of the apocalypse all around him. At least the brothel had guns. Guns and old booze.
Kicking down the door, shards of rotted wood fly outwards like buckshot. Stepping outside, the burst of light from the sun blinds his eyes. This is the first time he has seen the sun in three weeks. As his vision returns, all he sees around him is the blackness of decay. Pools of fetid water everywhere littered with the bodies of man and animal in various states of decomposition. Sam smiles. All the decent folk had left for heaven, even the Catholics. Sam looks at the corpse of an obese black woman. Her face sloughed off into the pool around her. Already large, the bloating of the watery death makes her look like a fallen statue of some horrible progeny of the damned. "Good riddance," Sam says aloud. He studies his own reflection in the water. His cheeks had sunk into his face. His eyes became cavernous. His old business mans hair had grimed its way into an almost punk hair style. Sam chuckled and walked towards the city below him.
He had hated the city since he had to move there. God loving people stayed away from the city. Especially New Orleans. He had tried to be save souls. His family came from a line of preachers, backwoods Scottish folk who emigrated to the south after butchering confederates and taking their farm land. A little before that his family had done the same thing to those red skinned savages. Backwards and full of faith, the Marshes lived in backwoods and the swamps with other backwoods folk. Decent folk who knew God's true name, His secret rites, and the joys of supplications in the moonlight. They passed down through the generations wards against demons. Ignorant city folk not only didn't believe in demons, they did not care. Sam's street bound ministry gained no adherents, despite even the best of his homemade signs. The city folk viewed him as a pest and cracked jokes about him. Now the jokes on them, though, the flood swallowed them.
Marching further towards the heart of downtown, what sounded like a wet mop sloshing around in a bucket caught Sam's attention. Slowly walking towards the soft noise, he discovers a most gruesome find. As if witnessing an artist splashing paint on a canvas, Sam watched transfixed as the rabid dog consumes the putrescent viscera of a dead police officer. Not much was left of the officer but a disemboweled shell, ripped apart not unlike a feathered pillow. The officers head was missing and his appendages were gnawed until only blood dried stumps remained. 'The dog must have arrived late to the dinner party,' Sam said while laughing at his own morbid sense of humor. The sight of the dog consuming the intestines brought back memories from an earlier time of him and his family dining on the chitlins from one of the freshly butchered pigs that they raised. The memory of the chitlin dinner and the reality of the dog's rotten intestinal meal caused his stomach to retch and spasm until he started gagging. He ran to the side of a a building and ejected the contents of his breakfast, which was whorehouse rat. No more rat for me, he thought. Walking back to where the dog was still enjoying his tasty treat. Tired of the sight,Sam loaded his rifle and took aim at the dog. BOOM!!! A spectacular shot. Even though he hadn't used his rifle in a while, Sam still shot like a pro. The dogs head erupted in a explosion of crimson and brain casing, the body twitching still not realizing it was dead. A minute later the twitching subsides and Sam looks down at the dead dog, surveying what remained of the canines head. It was a messy sight. Jokingly, Sam utters, 'You can't teach a dead dog new tricks.' Guffawing, Sam walks away and gathers his supplies. 'You're wasting daylight Pilgrim,' Sam doing his best John Wayne voice while walking down the road.
II
Walking towards his destination, downtown necropolis, heart of the dead, still keeping an alert vigil of his surroundings. Every block looking the same. Bodies, abandoned buildings, trash and sewage block up everywhere, and even more bodies. If he were somebody else, he would of either fled or hung himself from a street light after seeing the destruction the Strange Aeons bring. But he wasn't another person, this was the beginning of the Strange Aeons, and he had a mission to complete. They would have to kill him before he gave up. They would have make him look like that cop because if they didn't he would keep on coming, he thought to himself with a sense of rightful pride. Closing in on a row of condominiums, he stopped and looked at them. Even though the flood hit that area hard, the condos escaped relatively unscathed with only minimal outside damage. The windows amazingly enough were unbroken. Even though it had nothing to do with his mission, these were the first windows he had come across not destroyed by the flood. While standing there, he wondered about the owners and if they made it out alive. He knew the answer already, they were dead, like everybody else. There loved ones, if they lived in the city, were probably dead as well. Tonight there will be no funerals, perhaps ever. Perhaps the rest of the county has flooded and everybody was submerged. He froze up at the idea and began to think about his brothers. Even though they were spread out across the state and he hadn't seen them in almost a decade, he started to dread the possibilities that maybe the flood had swallowed them too. "Snap out of it!' He scolded himself. Suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and gooseflesh creeping up his body. Something was there, patiently watching him.
Sam looked around the area. Scattered debris to the left of him. A deep puddle of water in the street. Suddenly he spies movement from the water. Looking closer he sees the outline of the horrid creature. Rising from the water, Sam noticed that it had the semblance of a man. It had four limbs and a head. The creature sees the meat puppet staring at him and slowly lumbers towards him. A closer look from Sam exposes details he originally didn't see. It had a face like a squid, ropey and tentacled, with oozing lesions on its exposed skin. The Squid thing starts to make strange noises that sounds like calls for peace. "Come in peace my ass!' Sam silently says to himself. Pulling the 9mm Glock pistol out of the back of his pants. He walks towards the creature and stops. With a fake smile, he puts the barrel of the gun to the squid demon's head and pulls the trigger. The demon falls. Sam empties the rest of the clip in the horror's body. He says out loud to himself, 'Most things will die if you put enough rounds in them.' And the one thing Sam had was plenty of rounds, and his lucky machete for when he runs out. If he runs out. The gunshot, it seems, aroused more demons. Sam didn't think Mr. Squid had any friends. They howl at him, and call him crazy. Sam reloads his Glock. A couple even laugh. They pour out of one of the many bars on the block. Some are deformed, some have horns, and others have on archaic armor and the bearings of soldiers. Sam offers up a prayer. He is doing His lords work. The time of purification has begun. They rush him. It is a horde. Why are they screaming in English? Why are they outraged? Sam asked himself. Sam stands there showing no fear and he fires his gun with careful aim. When the smoke cleared, those that weren't dead flee. Looking up, he see's a sign proclaiming how many blocks he was from downtown. Five Blocks to his destination. Sam is nearing the entrance of the abyss and he has seen the monsters look at him, now its time for the monsters to gaze through the abyss and see that the monster is him. God be praised!
III
The life of a street preacher is not an easy one. Many people do not like what you have to say. Being sinners and all they do not like being reminded that they are going to hell. Especially by some backwoods hick. Where Sam was from bred a more primitive Christianity. Snake handling, sacrifice, and obedience showed more than mere wine drinking and water submersion. His whole family had been bit by the preaching bug and went to the far corners of the state. Except mom. She had been dying for awhile. His old town of Redsnake had used her in a sacrifice. Redsnake folk were obedient Congregationalists. They would do anything to curry favor with Their Shepherd. City folk do not practice such things anymore. They worship other Gods. Green Gods, Mechanical Gods, Black Square Gods. This is blasphemy in the eyes of Our Shepherd. He wants His lost Flock back. I am the Dog who will coral them back to Him. Since the City folk didn't believe in demons, they had no demons to ward off. Not until now.
Getting closer to the Temple of the False Gods. The Heart of the Necropolis. Sam spies a general store on the corner. Sam knows he needs food and perhaps a drink, so he walks into the store. He swore to never drink alcohol as a young man but then again he has never killed demons. But since the flood, while taking shelter in the whorehouse, he discovered that the kitchen was fully stocked with vintage alcohol. At first he fought the temptation to drink, but after the first week with no company to talk to or try to convert. He finally gave in to temptations strong embrace. That night, he sampled all the various alcohols and he decided he was a whiskey man. Vodka made him cry, Tequila made him lazy, and Gin tasted like shit. Whiskey fired him up, to him whiskey was the liquid form of God's True Word. He felt that he could find the entire Congregation and return them to their Shepherd. Whiskey also made rat meat tastier to the palette. Browsing the shelves in the store, a box of cupcake caught Sam's eye. He grabbed the box and ripped it open. That moment made him feel like a kid again, when his daddy used to buy him the snack cakes when he finished his chores or when he did good on his scripture study. Sam was in a good mood as he crammed a cupcake into his mouth. The end had come. Perhaps the whole world had flooded and then dried out. But that didn't concern him at that moment, his world now comprised of chocolate and sugary goodness, and he was happy. He hoped his brothers were having as swell of a time as he was. He thought to himself. He was happy when the city flooded, and he was happy when he found the old whorehouse on top of that hill. Surely it was God showing favor to one of His children. Lost in his thoughts Sam nearly didn't hear the commotion outside the store. As the sound waxed he knew whatever was making it was getting closer It was a screeching metallic noise, like some hellish trumpet. A clarion call for the damned. He supposed he had killed maybe ten of the little monsters. Now, he thought, the rest of the blasphemous horde was coming to feed on his pure soul. He was not surprised at their appearance. Probably water demons. He shoved some whiskey bottles into his back pack, shuffling them with the ammunition and the two antique guns he found. He loaded his gun again and stepped out into the street.
When Sam was ten he met his first demon. Out in the woods of Redsnake he has seen the forest spirit. It looked like a giant tree with cancerous growths and fanged mouths all over it. It had limb like branches and tied to them were the bodies of thieves. Sam had been raised to recognise the different types of demons. These were the goats of the woods. They could eat anything. To appease them and to make sure they stayed in forest, the townsfolk would sacrifice thieves and criminals to them. Some demons you could appease, others you could kill. When he went to the city he realized that some demons could take on other forms. Like Chameleons, They could blend in the environment around them and even take human form. Those were the worst.
Chariots of burnished ivory approached. They had screaming trumpets and burning brands. The strange chariots suddenly come to a halt as if it was choreographed. In haste the warrior demons exit the chariots in a fluid motion as if guided by unseen hands. Sam hides in the shadows in the side of the general store. Sam knew that they were searching for him now. The cold grip of fear grabs a hold of him now. The only thing he can do now is hide. They speak to each other in their strange demon English, as if they were speaking under water. Sam does not like the fact that there language is similar to his. Still in hiding, he begins to wonder if they were just possessed human, or if they were pure born demons. Sam also pondered if they could have reanimated the bodies for earthly purposes. The fire in his belly ignites again and his world flashes red. His hands shake and resolve finds itself in his soul with such conviction he knows he must act. As if were demon possessed himself, he launches himself at his foes. Between the eyeslits of their armor he recognizes fear. He fires his pistol and hits one demon between the eyes. Sam always had a knack for shooting center every time, but sometimes he would miss on purpose so he wouldn't give off feelings of self pride. He swipes at the second one with his blade and takes its arm clean off his shoulder. The third demon comes to the realization that he can't kill this meat puppet and surrenders. All three are down and two are dead. The third demon gets on his knees and begs for his life. He pleads and starts sobbing. He even says he has a wife and kids. But Sam didn't a shit. Why would he care about a god damned demon family? Not only was it a lie but a disgusting one to boot. Sam's purpose is to cleanse, convert, and die. And if Sam can't cleanse or convert he will kill. That is his mission and he is good at what he does. Feeling the wetness of the blood and entrails that cover him, he lunges at the coward demon with barred teeth. He rips the helmet and bites into the jugular of the demon. The demon screams and tries to fight Sam off of him. Every time Sam is hit, he bites down ever harder. The demon panics and he know he's going to die. He has one last chance to get the Meat Puppet off of him. With what remaining strength he has left, the Demon throw a flurry of punches at the Meat Puppets head. This only pissed Sam off even more, and he plunges his teeth deeper in the neck off the creature. Soon enough, Sam finds the artery he was going for and with a saw blade fastness, Sam rips out the jugular of the Demon. The demon tries to scream, but when he does, the blood from the wound sprays harder and faster. Standing in front of the dying creature, Sam smiles as the blood sprays all over his face and body. He receives this as his second baptism, his first with water, now reborn under a geyser of blood. Sam watches now with a new sense of being. Now he new who he was. He knew what his purpose was now. As if his God was in the blood that now makes the crimson mask on his face. The Shepherd was speaking to him now. The Shepherd told Sam he knew what he to do. The flood didn't herald the Coming of the Strange Aeons. The Strange Aeons were here already here before the flood occurred. The Shepherd doesn't care if his flock returns to him. Sam's mission is to speak The Shepherds True Name. For Sam is the only one who knows His True Name. And God Sayeth to Sam, 'The Planet is far to gone for salvation now.' 'Only Cleansing it will save it.' 'Go the The Temple of the False Gods, and Once My True Name be Uttered, The Wretched Day Begins.' 'So Sayeth My True Name and You will stand on my Left Side when the light engulfs it all,' So Sayeth The Shepherd. It was over as fast as it began and Sam knew only the Dark.
IV
Awake and a little weak, Sam sits still in shock of what just happened. The experience had shown him that The Shepherd loves him over all the Congregation and that he is the only one who can complete the task. Standing up now, Sam walks towards the body of the coward demon he slain and strips the armor from its body. Before donning it himself, he plunges his hands into the soft underbelly of the demon knight and brings forth the entrails. Lifting them to the sky for all to see. He methodically puts on the strange armor and baptized it in the blood of his enemy. The apocalypse is not for the weak, it is not for the damned, it is for God, bless his true name.
Sam had been apprehended by the police when he was spreading the True Word of God to the lost Flock on the corners of the city. They thought he was a just another crazy bum. Sam tried to convert them,and Save the Lost, but like most city folk they were ignorant. He tried to tell them the end was near, but like most prophets his words fell on deaf ears, he was rationed medication by the state, and watched by onlookers with dread.
Sam had decided to set the chariots ablaze via the gasoline he had taken from the corner store. He ran after it started to burn, instinctively knowing the chariots would explode. He runs until he sees the legions. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands. All positioned in and around the Temple of The False Gods. The Center of the Necropolis City. They were in no true order. Some are milling about, some are giving orders and some are crying. It appears to Sam that there is a sort of hierarchy to the damned. The Knights seem to be in charge and the squids and fish headed ones seem to be he slave caste. Sam wonders if his armor will fool them into thinking he is one of them. Sam knows that if doesn't try, he won't be able to carry out his mission. The Thousands of Demons will not stop me from accomplishing my Goal. Praise The Lord!!
With a bravery that rivals the Host of Angels, Sam walked tall and with no fear towards the Legions. He saw the twisted, disgusting, faces of the masses staring at him as he walked through there lines. To Sam's surprise the demons mostly ignored him. The armor disguise has worked, Sam thought to himself. He sees the center of the Temple. The Place The Shepherd told him to Say His True Name. Sam's heart is racing. This is his destiny, he cannot and will not fail His God now. I am God's Beloved Son. He thinks about his brothers and he wishes they were at his side during this glorious event. 'They would be so proud,' he mumbled to himself.
My name is Samuel Marsh. I am one the Shepherds Flock.
I am the First of the Brother's Ten.
My brothers and I are the Cabal that protects of His True Word
We are the Blessed Knowers of His True Name.
We are the Blessed Teachers of His True Word.
We are the Finders of the Lost.
We must never utter His True Name.
I, Samuel Marsh, the First of the Brothers Ten.
Chosen to do the Shepherds Bidding.
To Cleanse the World, I must Speak His True Name.
Praise The Lord!
Sam saw his chance and he took it. Running towards the Center of the Temple is his destiny and only his. As Sam was running the demons watched him closely. The Demons screamed for him to stop, but nothing was going to take away his destiny. All of the sudden, Sam falls, tripped up by one of the enemies of the Shepherd. His helmet is flung off as he falls to the floor, revealing the blood stained crimson mask earned during his rebirth baptism. Dazed by the fall, the Demons take advantage of the situation and encircle around him. Muttering in a bastard version of English, Samuel could not make out the words. Samuel was not going to let this stop him from achieving his goal. He is the Shepherd's Beloved Son. He will not fail now. With a lightning burst of energy, Sam leaps from the floor and back on his feet. He can't fail now. With the last of his energy, he runs for the center. The armored demons make chase behind, screaming that's the guy! That's the guy! Running faster, he hears the demons scream but not making out the words. No matter though, there are more important things to complete. Sam makes it to the center of the Temple. His Shepherd must be watching with great pride. The most important event in the history of the planet is about to happen. Sam looks up to the sky and he feels the presence of his Father. The Demons make it to Sam's location, and one Demon with a booming, enhanced voice yells to Sam to Stop and throw down his weapons. Sam looks down at the demons and grabs his shotgun. The armored demons draw there weapons as well. Sam will not allow this to happen. He points his shotgun and fires at the first demon he sees, the large one who told him to stop and throw down his weapons. Sam fires his weapon and buckshot flew through the air. The shot meets its target and drills through the large one's skull. The large ones head explodes in a mess of Brain matter and skull fragments. Sam laughed at this. He will not stop his mission. Wildly he aims at random demons firing away with wild marksmanship. The demons fire back with there bolt pistols. As Sam continued to fire aimlessly, one of the demons sneaks up and takes aim. Suddenly darkness blankets the temple and Sam is slammed to the ground. What seems like after an eternity. His eyes open to demons surrounding him. Sam opens his mouth to Say the Shepherds True Name so he can cleanse the planet...but only his breath escapes his lips. Blood sputters through shattered teeth. His lords name is reduced to a gurgle, lost to those whose minds would shatter.
'Jesus Christ' muttered one of the cops. The officers look in disbelief at the blood splattered madman dying at their feet. How he got riot gear, they could only guess. "Yeah this is the asshole who took out some civilians and some FEMA workers" The cops search the body and find only weapons, booze, and a tattered book that will spend the rest of days in an evidence shelf. Other cops, and military had reported similar incidents across the state. Disasters do mighty strange things to already strange folk. |
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