Author: Fyre Rating: PG-13 Notes: I wrote this for my creative writing final. I hated that class and the teacher, so I decided to write something rather ... weird just for him. The sun gazed down, smiling at the creatures lounging and living beneath her. It was the noon hour, which meant that, for now, she could see everything. Focusing in on a small village nestled in the low hills, the sun squinting. On one of the taller hills, the sun was able to discern two young men and a large flock of sheep. Those two humans were some of the sun�s favorites and although she didn�t know their names, she felt she knew quite a bit about them. The older one, who the sun referred to as Redrage for his hair and potent temper, was uncommonly dedicated to the flock. He often literally dragged his younger brother up the hill and was easily provoked by the other�s laziness. The smaller, golden-haired lad was quiet and more affectionate. The sun favored him, if only because he tended to hide under a tree, read and sometimes talk to her. When he remembered, he prayed to Kiel, the god of shepherds who their small community worshipped, but most of his contemplative ramblings were directed to the watchful sun. As the sun gazed on, the blond boy started to doze off under his favorite tree. His name, unknown to the friendly sun, was Elkice Harker, but just Hark to his friends. Unlike his brother, Hark didn�t care that much about the sheep. Their small hill town of Nellsville was obsessed with them, basing their whole economy and society around the flock. Hark simply didn�t understand why sheep were so great. The wool was scratchy, the meat grainy and they bleated too much. Hark heard the annoying sounds in his sleep more often than not. He huffed under the tree and was simply grateful hat his brother, Lowell, liked the flock enough for both of them. Speaking of Lowell, Hark wasn�t sure where the redheaded annoyance was. Shrugging, he shifted slightly under the shade of the tree until he was comfortable enough to drift off into the sweet hold of sleep. A couple of hours later the sun got at just the right angle to jerk Hark awake. Sitting straight up, he promptly banged his head on a hard branch. Cursing loudly, Hark wished he could have slept just a bit longer. It was probably barely 2:00 PM, which meant he and Lowell had to stay up with the flock for three more hours. Stretching and standing up, Hark looked around lazily for his brother. Lowell was known to wander off with a select group of sheep, to show them �fresher meadows,� as he put it. Hark made his way through the immense flock of sheep, mulling about and occasionally baa-ing. He called out, �Lowell? Hey, Lowell!� There was no answer, except for the sound of sheep. Not wanting to leave the sheep too far behind, Hark decided to walk to a line of trees about three miles away and no farther to look for his brother. On this flat expanse of land, he would still be able to see the sheep at that distance and it wasn�t too long that he couldn�t sprint back if needed. As he reached the trees, Hark wondered if he should just head back as there was no sign whatsoever of his usually so responsible brother. In that moment of silent reflection, Hark heard the soft, low murmurings of a � wild pig? Something like, Hark speculated. Fingering his small, sheathed dagger, Hark decided to make a small kill. He could roast it when he got back to the flock and have some fresh meat to hold him over to the evening. Crouching, Hark crawled over to the bush where the sounds emanated from. Silently pulling aside some of the branches, Hark got ready to strike as he set his sights on � Lowell. And his � favorite sheep. Behind a bush. Hark couldn�t think clearly. Hark�s brother was right there, mounting this sheep, thrusting and pushing and his pants were down and his eyes shut tight and red hair completely messed up and� Hark, still silent, backed away and ran. Then threw up, gagged and dry-retched until he almost fainted. Once he could breathe properly, Hark started rambling to himself. �What the hell was that, Lowell FUCKING a sheep?! That isn�t right�he�s engaged and why a sheep?? How long has this been going on and how many sheep has he molested? This is SO wrong. I�m positive Lord Kiel has said something about this. The priest must have. This is wrong! That � sheep � it must be so � upset! And DAMN what the hell am I supposed to about this? Wrong, disgusting, gross and wrong! Fuck, fuck, fuck �� Lapsing into silence, Hark was extremely disturbed he could still hear the sounds of passion from his brother. Out of desperation, Hark started to pray to Kiel, sure he would have something to say about such a violation of his favorite creature. Falling down on his knees, Hark wondered how to start. In a solemn monotone, Hark intoned, �Gracious Kiel, one who personally watches over your children and guides them through the rocky hills of life. Kiel, please help me now. I have no idea what to do or how to act, so please send me your wisdom down on me and show me the way.� Hark continued to pray quietly, dodging the actual subject since he figured Kiel knew what was up. Suddenly, a violently earsplitting crack raped Hark�s ears, accompanied by a brilliant flash of light. Hark opened his green eyes, but then had to close them right away in a weak defense against the blinding light. A deep voice spoke as the light dimmed enough for Hark to venture a peek again. The voice said, �Hark. Hark. Look at me, and listen.� As Hark squinted, he could soon make out a figure in front of him. It was obviously male, but had many androgynous features. His beautiful face held a warm smile and cool, green eyes. He seemed to be floating a foot above ground and the light material of his old-fashioned toga flapped in a wind Hark couldn�t feel. Hark�s mouth opened and closed about two times as he gulped for air. One part of his brain insisted this couldn�t be real, but the other section pointed out that Kiel came down to talk to his people all the time in the Old Scripture. The local priest always reminded his congregation that Kiel could converse with any of them at any time, so Hark supposed it could happen. But that didn�t mean Hark wasn�t freaking out. Before Hark could scream, run, foam at the mouth or any of the other ideas flashing through his brain, the hovering man spoke, �Elkice Harker, hush. Listen. You asked me to help, and here I am.� This sudden and glaring confirmation of his random, fiery doubts sent Hark into a burst of exclamation. �KIEL? Lord God Kiel, protector of children and conveyer�� �SHUT UP, Hark. Yes, it�s me. But if you want me to stay, you need to shut your mouth. Your problem is that with your brother, correct?� Kiel waited for Hark to nod, then he continued. �You were right when you believed this is wrong�humans are simply not meant to do this with animals! I don�t know why your brother has decided to delve into this strange and disgusting pastime, but he must be cured of this fault! �The only way to do this, young Hark, is to � first, listen closely. I don�t relish the idea of repeating myself. The only way to cure Lowell is to�� Kiel paused and sighed, perhaps only for dramatic purposes or maybe the prospect truly did depress him. Hark waited, full of anticipation. �To cure your brother and wash away these mortal sins, you must kill him. Nothing else to be done. It must be brutal and painful and bloody and messy.� Hark gaped up at the deity, expecting him to start chuckling�any time now!�and laugh at how he tricked the human. But no laugh came and Kiel kept on staring steadily at Hark. Once he was sure Hark wouldn�t exclaim out of disgust and horror (the wide-eyed young man was too much in shock to make a noise), Kiel explained very meticulously exactly how Hark should murder his brother and, while he was at it, the sheep, too. After enlightening the human so, he started to rise up to the heavens, fading as he went. Hark watched faithfully, emotions battling in his confused mind, as Kiel solemnly called down, �Do not fear as you go about your task. I shall be around to watch and see how things fare.� Once the god was gone, Hark promptly headed back to the flock. He had to retrieve some larger knives from his pack and guide the flock closer to where his brother lay, so he could keep an eye on hem while he went about his business. Once he got the sheep, the journey back went surprisingly quick. Hark was disturbed to note many of the dumb creatures knew this path very well. When Hark was assured with the safety of the sheep, he laid out his knives and sharpened them. He really did not want to do this. Even if it was a god-sent mission, he was still meant to kill a man. And not just any man, either�his brother, who he had grown up with and played with. Hark felt dirty and very reluctant to complete his assignment. As he crept toward the bush in question, Hark reminded himself that only by doing this could his brother be washed of his sins and go on to live in the Eternal Good Place. Hark thrust aside some branches, not even attempting to be quiet about it this time. Lowell was no longer technically with the sheep, thank Kiel. He was pulling on his pants, but abruptly stopped when he saw Hark looming there, holding a large hunting knife in one hand. When Hark tried to remember exactly what happened next, he realized he couldn�t relate it very well at all. He recalled knocking Lowell out, breaking a bone, knocking Lowell out, breaking a bone, knocking Lowell out � Hark had cut off some extremities while Lowell was still alive. The screams had been so loud and shrill Hark had been forced to shove Lowell�s left hand into his mouth (the hand not still attached to his arm, of course). Hark killed the sheep which had been violated first. He simply broke the poor creature�s back. Lowell, though, by special order of Kiel, got no such special treatment. The ordeal went very slowly, with Hark cutting off slices of meat and feeding them to the dog while Lowell watched. The dog liked the taste so much after a while he started chewing right off the bone. Lowell died on his own. Exhausted, Hark flopped down by his brother�s mangled corpse and breathed deeply. He definitely wasn�t looking forward to the next part. He had to cook�he hated cooking�and this was much worse. Kiel had instructed Hark to completely skin both Lowell and the sheep, take out all their organs, mash and smash them together and make a type of sloppy stew. Kiel hadn�t been to clear on who should dine upon the grotesque dish, just that it had to be consumed. Hark was thinking of feeding it to the family pig, since she ate any and everything. Wiping the sweat from his face with his bloody sleeve, Hark started. Compared to the part when Lowell was alive, this was easy. A bit more messy, but generally easier. He was done rather quickly. By the time the dish had been unsteadily poured into a bucket, it was past time to head back to the village. Waddling with his pack and bucket, Hark whistled to the sheepdog (still chewing on Lowell�s arm bone) and together they led the flock down. By the time he returned home, both his parents were asleep and the fire had been long doused. Hark cautiously poured the slop into the pig�s trough and crept into bed. ** The next morning, the screeching of his wife woke up the Nellsville chief of police. This was normal, so he didn�t pay her much mind as he lumbered out of bed and into his robe. As the chunky, out-of-shape man came into the kitchen, he realized for once his wife was yelling for a reason. A gentle and comfortable-looking older man sat at his table, smiling out of worried eyes. The police chief, Henry Murray, sat down and greeted the man. The man said he had terrible news and her was sorry to have barged in so early in the morning, but something had happened yesterday evening that had kept him awake all night. The old man explained briskly to Mr. Murray in a low voice, as he glanced at the missus, that he had seen Elkice Harker murder his brother in cold blood. The bones were still up on the hill, stains from blood surrounding the remnants. Mr. Murray jumped up in utter shock. He didn�t bother asking the older gentlemen how or why he knew this information�Murray found himself naturally trusting this man and could think of no reason why he shouldn�t. This didn�t change the fact that Murray was still stunned. Hark had always been such a good, good boy. Why, Murray had even entertained ideas of Hark marrying his youngest daughter. Grabbing his coat and sword, Murray asked the old man to accompany him to the Harker household. When they reached the Harker�s, it wasn�t hard to get a hold of Hark. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Hark politely asked them to join him as he tended the pig. Once they were alone, Murray bluntly asked, �Hark, did you kill your brother?� Wide-eyed, Hark accidentally poured slop all over the pig, who started to trot in circles, trying to get an apple core off his back. Gulping and stammering, Hark looked down and muttered something under his breath, something that sounded like a prayer. Looking back up, straight at Murray, Hark nodded. He explained, �Kiel told me to, because�� Murray cut him off with a wave of his hand and briskly interjected, �Let�s go down to the station to continue this conversation, okay lad?� The three of them started walking, Murray leading. The old man wink congenially at Hark, but before Hark could ask what was going on, they had reached the station. There, in front of more witnesses, including the one official judge in Nellsville, Hark easily explained what happened, starting from his search for his brother (glossing over the fact that Hark had fallen asleep on watch) and ending with his return home. After Hark finished his testimony, the old man stood up and proclaimed he had a different version of what happened. Murray�s fellows experienced the same type of reaction he himself had felt. None of them had ever met the man before, but there wasn�t a person in there who didn�t automatically trust him and sincerely want to listen and believe everything the man said. Clearing his throat numerous times, the man started, �I agree that Hark was searching avidly for his brother, but I never saw Lowell, bless him, doing � what Hark claimed he did with that sheep. All I witnessed was Hark wandering around, talking to himself before and after finding his older brother sleeping behind a bush. Then, Hark attacked in the most terrible and vicious manner I�d ever seen. I was not able to watch the whole act, as I was afraid I would retch up my stomach. But, I swear to you honorable gentlemen, this is what happened.� As he finished, the man bowed and sat back down. Hark gaped. What was the man talking about? None of that happened. Well, except for the killing part. There both their stories coincided�and, Hark realized, that wasn�t necessarily a good thing. Hark glanced around, confused. He started to panic as everyone in the room eyed him suspiciously. Surely they would take his word over that of this new, weird man. They all knew him! He had played with many of their children and ate at their picnics. Murray wanted Hark to marry Elise, his youngest! This didn�t seem to matter to anyone in the room. Silently, Hark was marched to a cell connected to the larger room. After he was securely locked in, Murray told the others he was going up to the sheep hill to study the evidence. The majority of the police force went with him, while the others were called away to an urgent cat-in-a-tree incident. While he sat in the cell, Hark was pestered by a murmuring priest performing an exorcism. It seemed to be general consensus that a demon had possessed Hark. Hark resisted the urge to punch the mumbling clergyman, as that would probably not help his case. He slumped into his lumpy bed and tried to not listen. Soon, Murray and the rest of the force, followed by the old man and the judge, stood in front of the dank cell. Speaking clearly, and obviously trying very hard to sound official, Murray proclaimed, �It has been decided by this council, with the help of the Honorable Judge Turken, that you, Elkice Harker, are guilty of the murder of your brother and, worse if that is possible, the best sheep in the flock and of feeding both their flesh to your pig. For punishment, you shall be beheaded by axe in front of the Nellsville populous. Your body will be left on a distant hill and not buried. You will be officially disgraced and �,� Murray trailed off, obviously at a loss for words. Much like the time last evening, when Hark seemed to forget himself as he slowly killed his brother, Hark didn�t really seem to be there as he was tied up and brought to the village square. Obviously they were going to waste no time in a further investigation. Hark was to be put to death right then and there. His mother and father were in the crowd, but Hark�s glazed and fuzzy eyes simply passed over them. As soon as the old man came into his view, though, Hark�s eyes focused and he peered steadily out at him. This man was his doom and the reason he was up here, about to be killed in such a brutal and painful manner. Hark had never seen him before that day, but he found himself filled with a pure hatred for the man. Up until the blindfold was tied over his eyes, Hark watched the old man. His last view of anything before the rough gray cloth of the blindfold took over his vision was the old man. For a second, the man wrapped in a gray cloak seemed younger. In fact, Hark was suddenly reminded of the deity he had met the day before. Kiel winked at Hark from beneath his guise and Hark gasped as the first cut from the rusty blade hit him. |