The words of the Pope still
reverberated in his head, resonating with the internal rhythm of his body as he
rode the horse to get back what was rightfully theirs. To seize the control of
the Holy Land back by hook or crook from the pagan elements who had suddenly
infested life on earth. He believed it was his duty to cleanse the Earth of
these satanic entities and consequently save the Holy Land. He felt his heart
throbbing wildly. He glanced to his sides and saw horsemen, like him. They were
all dressed in chain mail armour. Armed, fast and determined, their stallions
galloping at breakneck speed. He grinned and yelled. A manifestation of his
enthusiasm. He was either going to die as a martyr or fight to retrieve their
place.
After months of travel, they reached the battlefield. The enemy was in
abundance. They were lesser in number. But the enemy had not taken into account
the metaphysical reinforcements that the Believers had been promised. He was
panting and gasping. The travelling had left him weary. His initial vigour for
martyrdom had been lessened but not by any means overruled. He took the mask
off and looked in front of him. He contemplated all he had done up until today.
His life. It looked meaningless but he was going to change that by a simple self-less
act which was ironically the most extreme self-less act. He huffed and observed
around him. People. Men. Of different statures all willing to let go of the
most prized possession they had. Their life. Did they have children? Or girls
waiting eagerly for their return as victors? In the end it just didn’t matter.
Because everybody who had signed up for the Crusades knew that the chances of a
safe return were bleak. Battle cries and huzzahs propelled the warriors of the two sides into action. He shouted at the top of his voice “For the Holy Trinity!” and as he surged forward, he thought, ‘Why?’ Why was he here? What was he doing here? What was anyone doing here? All of them were just wasting their lives, supposedly weren’t they? His sword swung and slashed across infidel throats and his shield blocked mighty blows as such suspicions grew inside his frail mind like Jack’s beanstalk. He was morphing into a coward. As the battle intensified, he found himself losing attention and control. An enemy spear barely missed him. But he wasn’t so lucky with the arrow. In fact he was very unlucky for the arrow had penetrated the only chink in the armor, inconveniently close to his heart. He lost control of his limbs and blood started oozing out. He fell to his knees and didn’t even feel the pain when something stomped over his legs, crushing them. He flailed his head wildly trying to survive even if for a moment more. An enemy soldier caught sight of him. He closed his eyes when he saw the nonbeliever approaching. ‘This is how I meet my Creator.’ The enemy huge in size, swung his sword upward to bring it down with an immense force.
He closed his eyes and tried to remember any verse from the Bible he could. He failed.
He heard a shout, and then a thud.
Followed by a splash of water.
He opened his eyes and saw he was on a boat. He had never been in a boat before. Or in such deep waters. Or even knew that such deep waters existed. He turned around and saw queerly without being startled a party of seafarers.
“We are still waiting for the orders…” one of them spoke in a language that was foreign to him
“I know and when the time is right, I’ll tell you what to do” He found himself articulating in a language that just seconds before sounded unknown.
“Do you even have a plan, or is this just a hollow cause?”
He closed his eyes and it came to him.
“I am sorry. I’ve been slow in my cognition of the situation. We carry out the plan today. Before the Captain retires to his cabins for the night. Have I made myself clear to all of you?”
“That’s what I am talking about” This was followed by a general chorus of agreement.
He waited till dusk. All the time trying to siphon off his time into gazing at the vast canvas of the sea. Far from the ship he would see gigantic and splendid beasts, moving in water with a certain luxury that seemed only exclusive to them. The bobbing of the ship and the crashing of tides against the boat didn’t make him giddy. It exhilarated him and made him look further to the time when he would overthrow the captain of the ship and steer this crew and the ship back to Motherland.
When night approached, he found himself along with the fellow conspirators tagging behind the captain as he made his way to the private cabin. He swiveled around and barked in frustration
“What do you want now?”“A conversation” He replied
The captain folded his arms against his chest and stood staring at them in mock seriousness.
He studied the captain for a brief second and decided that this excuse of a leader didn’t need a justification for this betrayal. He looked to his sides and motioned to commence the operation. Without waiting for their consent, he stepped forward and punched the captain on his nose spurting a spray of blood on the boards.
“What the hell was that for? Oh you just started your plan…” The captain wiped the blood from his nose with his sleeves, sneered and continued: “Well sure, go on with it but please do look behind you.”
He knew what sight awaited him if he turned. The betrayer had been betrayed. Did he offer them money? More money? More rations? His thoughts were interrupted as the mob picked him up. He exhausted all his efforts trying to talk some sense into them and trying to get free, so much so that when they threw him overboard, he found no remnant of energy left in his body to struggle. The azure shade of the ocean clouded the twisted faces of the sailors. He tried to breathe but found no air. How could he? He was drowning. A strange calm came over him as he slowly sunk to the depths. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw some strange fish making its way toward him.
He closed his eyes, wondering what would get him first. The water or its inhabitants.
He waited for some sort of final answer.
None came. He found himself in a very elegant room. It had a high roof was the first thing he observed when he opened his eyes. Further observation clearly indicated that the architecture, design was nothing less than royalty. He looked around at the people in the room. Royal. He was in a royal court. The Royal French Court. He smiled as he saw the King approaching him.
“Monsieur Finance Minister, where have you been?”
“Pettily preoccupied your majesty. Anything I can help you with?”
“None unless you haven’t done the small favor I asked you for. Regarding the cardinal…”
“Oh yes, that is done. Do not fret, the construction of the Church has been-“
He was interrupted by an uproar from outside the Court room. Everybody knew what that meant. The people had come to get what was rightfully theirs. The guards came in followed by the Lieutenant of the Musketeers. He talked in a low tone with the King. Their faces were grim. The King was clearly suggesting a practical solution when all hell break loose. The mob carrying lances and muskets entered the room, shooting anyone dressed luxuriously on sight. He realized he had to flee. Fortunately for him he knew every nook and crony of the castle. There was one secret escape route which could take him straight outside Paris from where he could go to England, somehow. Trying to avoid eye contact with anyone to prevent extra baggage or company he hastily moved towards the trap door in the prison guard room. He was about to descend down the trap door when a troubling thought came over him. His money. All of his things. His jewels and stones. No. He had to get them. Like a shadow he glided past corridors and slipped through corners. Quietly he entered his room and amassed all valuables he could and stuffed them into his pocket. As he exited his room, a vile thought crossed his mind. Without a second thought he made way towards the Queen’s private rooms. There he stripped the drawers of all precious royal possessions. Sometimes even putting his own stuff in the drawers to make room for the better things. Sadly, his days of wealth were short. He was just about turn the handle of the door to leave the Queen’s room, when a peasant from the other side, fired a musket, filling his guts with gun powder. He squealed and groaned in utter pain. He felt around for some sort of support and to his slight relief found the royal bed to his service. The peasant entered the room and shouted in hatred. He readied to fire the musket again at point blank.
He closed his eyes. Waiting for his life force to be shattered into
smithereens.
It definitely didn’t happen.
Instead he found himself strolling in the market place of a strange country in ostentatious country. His assistant or aide was beside him.
“You should’ve asked for extra security.”
He pondered over the suggestion but then shook his head.
“No…what could possibly go wrong? I am such a great man and noble person. Why would somebody mean me any harm?” He motioned with his hands a sense of indifference.
And at that exact moment. A nationalist by the name of Gavrilo effectively assassinated him.
In the smallest fraction of second between the moment of the impact of the bullet and the departure of soul from his body, he felt a darkness coming over him. He tried to embrace it.
But it escaped.
He found himself tying his trousers inside a dimly lit institution. An ugly man at the counter spoke in a sleazy voice
“Yo, this is the third time you haven’t paid me the money. You better not show up without it next week.”
He grunted and nodded in registration of the statement. Something funny was going in inside his head. Maybe it was the glowing colorful atmosphere. Maybe it was the lewdness of the room. Or perhaps he just felt suffocated.
He exited a brothel, walked over to the road and lit a cigarette. He heard a car’s horn from his left side and peculiar desire took over him. He refused to budge as the car hit him full speed. He didn’t even bother to close his eyes this time. The pain he thought would be a much more effective harbinger of the tidings of his state.
Although he hadn’t closed his eyes, he suddenly only knew darkness. Pitch-black darkness. He tried to move. To speak but found himself unable to do any of those.
‘Is this purgatory?’ He thought.
“No. This is not purgatory. This is not.” A hissing voice answered his question
‘Um who are you? Where am I? What is going on?’
“Those are three very interesting questions indeed”
‘Ok this is creepy, why can’t I speak?’
“Oh, but you can think right? And how is thinking not speaking?”
‘I don’t understand.’
“Of course you wouldn’t. You are stupid as it is.”
‘What do you mean?’
He felt moistness creep down his neck and a chill run through his spine.
“All shall be made clear. But for that I must know if you’re ready to hear your sentence?”
‘Sorry, what sentence?’
A rasping laughter echoed through the vacuum
“I am Death. You have evaded me century after century. You have left behind you series of massive destructions and as I collected those souls I waited patiently for the day when I would tear your flesh and pour out your blood, allowing your soul to step out of you. You are in my domain. And I have no domain. Yet I exert my power everywhere and on everyone. You’re nowhere and everywhere. Why are you here? I can sense this question at the precipice of your pathetic mind. Why? To hear your sentence. Your punishment. For every crime has a punishment.”
‘I have no idea what is going on’
“Think. Don’t you remember? The Crusades. The Discovery of the New Lands. The Steam Engines. The Electricity. The Revolutions. The World Wars. The Technology. You were there when all of this was happening. For reasons I cannot fathom you were the chosen representative of humanity. You were given infinite chances to relive your life and rectify your mistakes. Learn! Adapt! But look at what you did!? You didn’t learn. Every time you were killed by your baser instincts of cowardice, anger, hatred, jealousy, greed, pride, infidelity and dishonesty. You didn’t learn. You have beautifully depicted the entire human race. Obstinate. Unresponsive. Dumb. Self-Destructive and forgetful.”
‘Hey if this is a court proceeding, am I allowed to defend myself?’
A compound silence transpired. Silence within silence. Broken by a hoarse voice
“Yes. Go on.”
‘When humans were given intelligence they were given the choice and the brain to do whatever they wanted to do. The fact that humans have made definitions and criterions to standardize various things have only limited our understanding of the universe and our exploitation of prowess. Yes we are unnerving and uncomprehensive. Human history is full of repetitions and yes we do not learn. Why? Because we are humans. We know what’s good and what’s bad by our own relative definitions. Our continuous failures lead to minute successes which result to our own destruction. We are all killing ourselves. You won’t understand it though. In our search for scientific and developmental success we have unlocked the secret of life. Self-destruction. A candle propagates life by dying. A flower has to die for the fruit to be born. Genesis only follows Necrosis. We have unwillingly and unknowingly understood life and its end. But you won’t grasp what I am saying. Because you’re only one half of the equation. Your vice, death is that you are Death. That is your undoing. I am what is between life and death. And that is my beauty.’
“Fine words, human. But alas those are just words.”
‘Well I cannot act since I…well since I cannot. So?’
“Petty excuses-“
‘No wait, listen. Why am I condemned to be free? Why do I have a choice? This is the ultimate irony. The joke. Angels have no choice but to worship. Demons likewise to some extent. Animals are reduced to their survival instincts. Then why were humans blessed with the curse of thinking? Are we toys in a grand scheme?’
“Aren’t we all?”
‘I think I plead guilty’
“Oh. Why?” There was a clear surprise.
‘Because I am a human who was given too many chances. I exercised my freedom of thought to its full extent. Showing how sudden and impromptu my actions can be despite having the experience of a millennia. All these years I haven’t felt joy. Real joy. Perhaps the only joy I’ll ever feel is through death. Real solid death.’
“I am pretty sure you haven’t tested one thing in the world”
‘What do you mean? Why the hell do you have to be so cryptic?’
“Sorry I cant. Because your sentence has been decided.”
‘What?’
“You are sentenced to an eternal damnation. You might call it immortality. Have fun”
He tried to scream. To cry and shout. But nothing happened. He tried to transition to whatever lied ahead but he couldn’t.
It definitely didn’t happen.
Instead he found himself strolling in the market place of a strange country in ostentatious country. His assistant or aide was beside him.
“You should’ve asked for extra security.”
He pondered over the suggestion but then shook his head.
“No…what could possibly go wrong? I am such a great man and noble person. Why would somebody mean me any harm?” He motioned with his hands a sense of indifference.
And at that exact moment. A nationalist by the name of Gavrilo effectively assassinated him.
In the smallest fraction of second between the moment of the impact of the bullet and the departure of soul from his body, he felt a darkness coming over him. He tried to embrace it.
But it escaped.
He found himself tying his trousers inside a dimly lit institution. An ugly man at the counter spoke in a sleazy voice
“Yo, this is the third time you haven’t paid me the money. You better not show up without it next week.”
He grunted and nodded in registration of the statement. Something funny was going in inside his head. Maybe it was the glowing colorful atmosphere. Maybe it was the lewdness of the room. Or perhaps he just felt suffocated.
He exited a brothel, walked over to the road and lit a cigarette. He heard a car’s horn from his left side and peculiar desire took over him. He refused to budge as the car hit him full speed. He didn’t even bother to close his eyes this time. The pain he thought would be a much more effective harbinger of the tidings of his state.
Although he hadn’t closed his eyes, he suddenly only knew darkness. Pitch-black darkness. He tried to move. To speak but found himself unable to do any of those.
‘Is this purgatory?’ He thought.
“No. This is not purgatory. This is not.” A hissing voice answered his question
‘Um who are you? Where am I? What is going on?’
“Those are three very interesting questions indeed”
‘Ok this is creepy, why can’t I speak?’
“Oh, but you can think right? And how is thinking not speaking?”
‘I don’t understand.’
“Of course you wouldn’t. You are stupid as it is.”
‘What do you mean?’
He felt moistness creep down his neck and a chill run through his spine.
“All shall be made clear. But for that I must know if you’re ready to hear your sentence?”
‘Sorry, what sentence?’
A rasping laughter echoed through the vacuum
“I am Death. You have evaded me century after century. You have left behind you series of massive destructions and as I collected those souls I waited patiently for the day when I would tear your flesh and pour out your blood, allowing your soul to step out of you. You are in my domain. And I have no domain. Yet I exert my power everywhere and on everyone. You’re nowhere and everywhere. Why are you here? I can sense this question at the precipice of your pathetic mind. Why? To hear your sentence. Your punishment. For every crime has a punishment.”
‘I have no idea what is going on’
“Think. Don’t you remember? The Crusades. The Discovery of the New Lands. The Steam Engines. The Electricity. The Revolutions. The World Wars. The Technology. You were there when all of this was happening. For reasons I cannot fathom you were the chosen representative of humanity. You were given infinite chances to relive your life and rectify your mistakes. Learn! Adapt! But look at what you did!? You didn’t learn. Every time you were killed by your baser instincts of cowardice, anger, hatred, jealousy, greed, pride, infidelity and dishonesty. You didn’t learn. You have beautifully depicted the entire human race. Obstinate. Unresponsive. Dumb. Self-Destructive and forgetful.”
‘Hey if this is a court proceeding, am I allowed to defend myself?’
A compound silence transpired. Silence within silence. Broken by a hoarse voice
“Yes. Go on.”
‘When humans were given intelligence they were given the choice and the brain to do whatever they wanted to do. The fact that humans have made definitions and criterions to standardize various things have only limited our understanding of the universe and our exploitation of prowess. Yes we are unnerving and uncomprehensive. Human history is full of repetitions and yes we do not learn. Why? Because we are humans. We know what’s good and what’s bad by our own relative definitions. Our continuous failures lead to minute successes which result to our own destruction. We are all killing ourselves. You won’t understand it though. In our search for scientific and developmental success we have unlocked the secret of life. Self-destruction. A candle propagates life by dying. A flower has to die for the fruit to be born. Genesis only follows Necrosis. We have unwillingly and unknowingly understood life and its end. But you won’t grasp what I am saying. Because you’re only one half of the equation. Your vice, death is that you are Death. That is your undoing. I am what is between life and death. And that is my beauty.’
“Fine words, human. But alas those are just words.”
‘Well I cannot act since I…well since I cannot. So?’
“Petty excuses-“
‘No wait, listen. Why am I condemned to be free? Why do I have a choice? This is the ultimate irony. The joke. Angels have no choice but to worship. Demons likewise to some extent. Animals are reduced to their survival instincts. Then why were humans blessed with the curse of thinking? Are we toys in a grand scheme?’
“Aren’t we all?”
‘I think I plead guilty’
“Oh. Why?” There was a clear surprise.
‘Because I am a human who was given too many chances. I exercised my freedom of thought to its full extent. Showing how sudden and impromptu my actions can be despite having the experience of a millennia. All these years I haven’t felt joy. Real joy. Perhaps the only joy I’ll ever feel is through death. Real solid death.’
“I am pretty sure you haven’t tested one thing in the world”
‘What do you mean? Why the hell do you have to be so cryptic?’
“Sorry I cant. Because your sentence has been decided.”
‘What?’
“You are sentenced to an eternal damnation. You might call it immortality. Have fun”
He tried to scream. To cry and shout. But nothing happened. He tried to transition to whatever lied ahead but he couldn’t.
