Abraham was facing the very lost souls which his deliveries had taken, and they were vengefully reminding him that they had names, names in time he would not be able to forget. These were results of nightmares he'd delivered to people every where, every night at someone else’s command. No free will of his own any more since trying to end his own life, only he was still accountable. Now once more he was out of control, at the mercy of this black river which had suddenly taken hold of his destiny. He was helplessly drifting down along, the chorus of names driving him. He desperately searched the sky for the glimmer of white light, something to cling onto to for yet another salvation.
Chapter Eight
High above, unseen to him, the Three Sisters watched Abraham drifting down a river which had no end, but did bear a never ending cycle of his victims chanting their names. In one cumulative force, one last futile attempt the Sisters summonsed all of their powers to beat on the glass mirror. One final desperate effort to break through and rescue him from himself.
To save the Deliverer. To complete the task they’d set out to do.
To liberate him from his darkness and to offer him the return of his memories and emotions. To convert him from the black life of the warehouse and give him hope.
Only the glass barrier remained intact and he could no longer be touched. Unable to reach him, unable to convert him and save his soul, meant that not only had they lost another Deliverer but also his victims would now never be able to escape their tortured limbo his little black containers had put them in. They would remain there with him, the company of souls berating their deliverer.
Save the Deliverer and the souls may rest too.
Their quest a failure, they swept from the room back out of the house into the night air, blind despair shielding their eyes from seeing the final look from the unkempt face in the fallen mirror looking up at them with desperation as the aperture between their worlds closed.
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Thank you for reading my story. If you enjoyed it, won’t you please take a moment to leave me a review?
Thanks!
Lee A Jackson
About the author:
I began writing in my mid to late teens, sequestered away in my bedroom in rural south west England. The writing was borne out of a need to express myself and to communicate with the world, something I was not good at doing verbally. It became an outlet for me and my writing grew with me through the years.
For the longest time I had a fear of being forgotten and the way I figured to combat that would be to have a published book sat on a library shelf somewhere. I would have indelibly left my mark somewhere, long after I passed. To this day, the enduring nature of my words in print following my end, is comforting.
Check Out Reviews for Kamikaze Trinitrotoluene by Lee A Jackson
Review by: Caroline Wood on May 11, 2015 : Short and funny, Kamikaze Trinitrotoluene is a well choreographed, visual tale of epic schadenfreude. Good fun and enjoyable - this would be great performed by someone like Lee Evans perhaps. Someone who can talk really fast, building up to the ending. Will read Lee. A Jackson's other books.
Review by: Jos. Henry on May 07, 2015 : Well fabricated and just long enough. I enjoyed it.
Review by: vivascarlett on April 25, 2015 : A very amusing short story; well-written. I loved it!
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