The Abattoir Requiem (3)


March 24, 2013 by misterblank22




Once home I wanted to feel some sort of hope. I wanted the little pills I was holding to solve my problem but something told me to expect the opposite. It could have been the voice echoing from my closet as I laid down or simply my mind attempting to flee the unknown. I had found that with every new thread added to my weaving experiences my brains first defense was to scare me away from them. But nothing seemed right, it felt as if every single thing had changed and been replaced with an imposter, that’s when my eyes closed.
After only minutes of viewing the black void my eyes tore open as a frigid breeze ambushed me. I was in my bedroom or at least it seemed like I was. My fan was slowly twirling above me, my neighbor was fighting with one of her lovers and the snow fell outside of my window, nothing seemed off. Then after accepting that I would not sleep I attempted to stand up which was when I realized nothing was what it seemed. My arms would not move, my legs tingled and my breathing slowed. Quickly the pins and needles stabbing my legs covered my entire body as I struggled to breath.
After minutes of silence in the bizarre scene that surrounded me I heard footsteps. I wanted to look in the sounds direction but I failed. Echoing from near my desk was a painful breathing, whoever was there could barely catch its breath. I tried to speak but only the first syllable of the word got out, it felt as if my breath was taken from me.
Soon whispers came from the wheezing thing that was out of sight. The footsteps stopped near me but nothing could be seen. I tried to say another word but failed.
Once I realized that speaking was out of the question I accepted the state I was in. Then from nowhere came a shadow, it approached me void of any features. It stared at me for several moments before laying a stack of papers on my chest. My eyes could barely move, they felt as if they were being forced to stare at that thing. It quickly leaned in close to my face and whispered “Alice wanted you to have this, she wrote it for you.”



The next morning freed me from that bizarre night. My apartment seemed different as if something took up residents with me. I convinced myself that this was just a feeling brought on by the night before; no proof had presented itself to state otherwise.
As I sat up I felt the stack of papers still on my chest. I grabbed them hoping that they weren’t real. The papers were a bright white and littered with words that looked like the work of a typewriter. Letters overlapped others while some were simply missing. I ran my finger across the paper to see how fresh those words were, the ink was dry, the words had been there awhile.
After minutes of hesitation I decided to read the papers that were given to me. I set down at my desk to begin reading something that a dream had given me.


Up high above Clive the sun rose. He wiped the blood from his hands before he struggled to stand, but he quickly fell to the ground. The body of his brother cushioned his fall. Deep in his mind he knew he could never tell what went on that day. When he left for war Clive’s mother begged him to protect his brother during their fight. He told her that he would try his hardest but neither of them knew he’d actually be forced to fire at his brother’s men.

When Clive shot his gun his eyes blurred while his brother took the brunt of his attack. The bullet dug deep into his chest sending him to the ground. Around him the battle continued as if everyone’s mind forgot emotion. When Clive realized what he had done his emotions took over destroying any sense he had, he ran through the crowd of bullets for his brother. Cannons flew through the sky destroying trees while screams erupted from atop the hill. Clive stared at his brothers eyes as they closed. Death took him before his brain could register his brother as the killer.

Soon the battle was over; the green field was stained red. The few that were still living greeted the new morning. One stood with a smile cheering the words “We’ve won!” while one held his bleeding head. Blank eyes stared in various directions with legs twitching. A disheveled man vomited behind a tree in an attempt to hide the fear that crept up inside of him. Clive attempted to stand again but gave into his exhaustion. He fell to his brother’s side again.

The vomiting man stumbled to Clive trying to register the events he had just lived through. Clive covered his brother’s face with a dirty coat that laid near them.

“I killed a man captain, do you get used to that?” Clive looked down at his brothers still body.

“Drink some water and wash that face of yours. Gather the others, we need to keep going.” Clive said in a strange tone.

“Ok.” The vomiting man walked away.


A spider slowly crawled across the table. Its twisted leg interested Clive as he watched it struggle to walk. He raised a glass to his mouth while he looked down at his scribbled writing. The alcohol flowed through his body causing a quick tingling sensation.

“Sitting there like that’s gonna bring back the dead.” The Unknown man said from his dark corner.

“I never claimed that it would, nothing brings back what aint breathing.” Clive said before downing the rest of his glass.

“The way you’re drinking you’ll be joining them soon. But I’ve seen men like you come and go so often my eyes could bleed. You’re looking like you want to join the dead.” The Unknown man said while crossing his legs.

“You’re a talker and talkers like to hear their own voice.” Clive turned to look at the strange man shrouded in shadows.

“Sure.” The Unknown man said with a grin.

“But I aint a listener so all the shit you’re sayin is going in one ear and out the other. Do both of us a favor and find a nice tree to shout at.” Clive raised his hand for another drink.

“You’re a funny man captain but you are much more interesting than a tree. Tree’s don’t drink themselves into a slumber, tree’s don’t get offended by words and trees don’t cry themselves to sleep.” A man handed Clive another drink while the Unknown man rolled a cigarette. “And trees don’t waste money on a substance that can come from the sky.”

“When it starts raining beer then I’ll stop buying it.” Clive took a sip of his drink before he spat it out. Clive see’s that he had been given water.

“Try some water soldier, you’ve had enough liquor.” The Unknown man blew smoke into the air.

“Have you ever had to write a letter to a family telling them that their son isn’t coming home?” Clive said in an offended tone.

“Yes, and drinking just jumbled it, take your time. If the mother will weep she will but give her a clear reason to do so. Keep your words in a straight line not the scribble you are producing right now.”

“I lost too many today, a random attack-they took everyone.” Clive threw his glass against the wall shattering it. A woman gasped in surprise.

“You’ve got it so hard don’t you captain? This poor war is going to suffer from a lost battle. Those men were going to take those bullets here or there, heads or chests, the more you shoot the higher the chance you have of getting shot. Friends die, people die, you will die, and you were born to die so embrace that gift. What about the men who you left on that field with their legs blown to bits and their arms thrown into the woods? I bet death looked great for them but did you grant them that or did you watch them as they struggled? Did you attempt to mend their wounds with that moral compass you cling so tight to, telling you that death is never the answer? Have you ever met the man who wanted to die? Did he smile as you passed him by? Did you smile back as you carried that little compass with you saying ‘This man must die, this man must live’ you’re filled with blood so let it spill.”

Clive looked down as tears built up within his eyes. Images of his brother at various stages of his life flashed before his eyes. The Unknown man stood up to lurk close to Clive, he had no comfort to give him and Clive knew this.

“There’s a poem that my dad told me when I was a kid. ‘When the eyes go black-They aren’t coming back-When your eyes glow-Let the people know.’ Get it captain?” The Unknown man said while his hand rested on the back of Clive’s chair.

“No.” Clive said hiding his sorrow.

“Take a look in the mirror. Do your eyes glow, or are they black?” Clive looked up at the Unknown man in wonder.

What had that shadow given me? Who was Alice? What did those papers mean?



One thought on “The Abattoir Requiem (3)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: