Destiny: Book of Light (2 page)

He reached the vulva of the forest with a few seconds to spare. The special division vans obviously couldn’t drive through the trees so the teams had to get prepared to organize a "seek and destroy" mission, on foot through the tough wilderness of nature at night. As they got organized so did Sean. He didn’t run, because he knew that he would create too much noise with the rotting foliage that lay beneath every footstep, so he tread softly but swiftly. It was clear in his mind what he needed to do to survive. He had to be efficient and he had to utilize his environment. He knew this because he was trained to know this. But he has risen above the structured repetition brain washing of the army. He was using his own rules now.

He killed with reason now. He was born and bred in societies boundaries. That, mixed with the repetition constructed boundaries provided by religion, was enough to put any human into a small area of the world, live there, and as payment for that privilege, spend most of their lives working to make other people rich. Within the world he used to be a part of, he found a reason to live. Something that made everything seem worthwhile. Love.

That life didn’t work for him, and now he had broken away from all boundaries. Now he killed for a reason. Now he killed because that’s what he wanted to do. In the past he had that feeling that every living creature gets. The feeling that you might get when you are hurt in some form. The feeling that you want to kill. Everyone gets it at some point, but it is usually pushed aside, and denied, because of the punishments governments enforce for acting on those feelings. Now Sean has nourished those feelings. He invites the urge to kill and enjoys fulfilling that urge. He is set free from all boundaries and has resorted to his most basic animal instincts. Other living creatures are coming to kill him. Animal awakes. He smiles. He is going to gut them. He is going to bathe in their blood. He is going to taste flesh.

He stopped moving and turned around to the entrance of the forest. Through the trees he ccould see the lights from the vans. Shadows flicker through the individual rays created by gaps between sight, indicating organizing. Sean ducked to crouch level and began moving as if floating, diagonally left to the way he had just come in. He came to where he could see people’s faces, now crawling along the forest floor; he began to analyze their strategy. This didn't take much observations as they just choose standard search tactics. Four vans, four teams in groups of eight. Two on point, four spread wide in the middle and 2 bringing up the rear. The drivers were remaining behind. They were in formation. By now Sean had come to the beginning of the forest, except that he was further left to where the vans shun their lights through the trees. He was in complete darkness. Escape was possible now, with no major difficulty, and an easy solution to soothing the waves of pain from his shoulder. Never the less he moved towards his target. As the teams carefully moved into the forest, Sean cautiously made his way to the vans.

A gentle calmness came over him as he cut the throats of the drivers. He felt more at one with the balance of nature than he had ever done before. He used to be at odds with everything, but now the whole world seemed still and quiet. It was like if a hundred people stood in a room and shouted and then at once they all stopped and one whispered a single word. After killing the last driver Sean starred in his eyes, curious as to what his final thought could have been. Lifeless and glazed they gave him no answer. Collecting his thoughts and taking what he figured would be useful from the vans, and the last drivers eyes, he walked back into the woods now covered in not just others blood, but his own too. Just on the inside of the foyer to the forest he took off his shoes. This gave a better understanding of the noise made while moving. He had to be able to feel and understand every step. The forest was dark, with very little moonlight to be seen through the canopy. Rain began to filter through the enigma of leaves.

Night turned to day and he awoke somewhere between life and death. The forest was now riddled with memories that he was unsure whether or not were true. The deaths of many were hazy in his mind, but slowly became refreshed as he waded through blood to make his way to the river. Each one a horrific image and each passing life numbed him more and brought him further from what he used to recall as reality. Bathing in the river he began to question his right to life. How could he stand at the gates to heaven and explain to God why he had done all the things he had done, that is if he believed in God anymore, which he seriously doubted. No he was all alone on this planet, and this planet was all alone in existence. He would kill for his right to live and sometimes because it’s what he felt like doing. Now it was time for power.

He began simply. Dressed in a trench coat, armed to the teeth, he walked the streets of London. You didn’t have to be a hunter to follow this trail. You had to look like a junky, and after spending the night in the forest and not shaving for 5 days, Sean certainly looked the part. He was slightly amazed himself at how easy it was to move from a respectable family man and white collar executive, to ascend so quickly and be taken as a junky. Some greasy, bloodshot eyed excuse for a human offered him a bag of coke and he took it. Not to get high but as an investment. He shadowed the dealer to a nearby apartment block, 12A, three floors up and in the corner. From the comfort of a nearby park bench with a bottle of whiskey and dressed with the intention to be sleeping outside, hooded, he observed all that happened. Comings and goings showed him the same faces. He spent the best part of two weeks living in the park, drinking with the down and outs in the sewerage of industry and secretly stocking up on all he needed to know. He figured most of the money would be inside on the Friday as people began to pay their debts between Thursday night and Friday morning ready to be picked up by a courier of the dealer this screw up worked for. This courier was the key to the next level. A young addict working, running errands to pay for his addiction, this was going to be too easy.

Things however have a way of turning on you. Gathered under a tree and huddled around a trash can of burning wood and trash an argument broke out. One of the regulars claimed that Sean had taken his drink. Although Sean tried to calm him, he only got more worked up, until he swung a punch. Sean caught his arm, and broke his elbow so severely the bone burst through the skin. Screaming in agony the bums’ friends moved in on Sean. He pulled out two silenced Desert Eagles and began by shutting the screaming man up, and then moved onto dropping the surrounding scabby, experts of whatever version of this world that they were living in.

These people, being old, seemed to affect Sean in a different way. At first he saw it as them being helpless, feeble old people that he was gunning down. Then it began to dawn on him that these were the bottom rung of the ladder and you can only go up from here. Remorse once again ran for cover at his wrath. Yet this wasn’t his plan. It was only Thursday night and he knew that he would have to adapt and make his move now, it wasn’t going to be as much money but it was either that or try to rob the place while police investigate the murder of twelve homeless people across the street.
He reloaded each of the guns and stood outside the door. The figure “1” on the door was hanging upside down, Sean fixed it and smiled. He kicked the door down and went in smiling and firing. He moved quickly, the first six in the front room took him about a single second. They were all lying around fucked beyond this world and beyond the next. The music dampened the noise of the door coming down and the already silenced gun fire. Swiftly into the kitchen he took note of about two grand in cash on the table and went through the hall to the bedrooms. The first door he smashed in, a couple were fucking like wild animals and the female left out a scream, they both their heads exploded on impact of Sean’s bullets leaving brain matter all over the headboard of the bed, but Sean realized that the scream would have been heard.

He quickly moved, keeping low to the door he had just kicked in. The door of the next room had opened and Sean could see in the reflection of the handle of the door across the hall, a heavy skinhead with a double barreled shotgun. The man slowly moved out through the arch of his doorway and keeping low and using the reflection as a guide, Sean slowly raised his arm with gun in hand from within his doorway to the point where it was touching the man's chin. He squeezed the trigger and as the shotgun hit the floor he moved into the room taking out three others who were holding Uzis and not one got a shot off. The best part of 30 grand lay on the table smiling to Sean. There were a couple of ounces of coke as well but this was of no use to him, dealing would be too much trouble, but a bit for himself could never hurt. He took the money and a heap of coke, and left.

He set up camp in an apartment block across from the junkies. Unfortunately this meant killing the old man that lived there, but fortunately he had the bottle of whiskey which he had previously stolen from the bum along with the mound of coke he had stuffed into a bag and into his pocket. That night his mind bounced from the four walls surrounding him. Each taunting him with guilt, fear, outright terror and an evil presence that should not have been there. The drugs he continued to snort frantically up his nose began to hit him. It became the escape, more and more and through more terror. He was dragged by rage. This drug he did not approve of. Yes it was clean and enjoyable. But all other drugs have an effect on your views of the world in front of you, whereas coke actually has an effect on peoples personalities, giving way for ego complexes, paranoia and more and more people become dependent on it.

This was the war that stood in front of him. He applauded all other forms of drugs, but this he was going to rid the world of. Waking up with flashbacks of through and through horror, he struggled to look out the blinding light coming from the window. He had adapted to darkness and the world seemed new to him. His eyes slowly adjusted to the light and when in focus Sean realized what he was looking at. As far as he could see there were flashing blue lights. He sat up and pulled out his .45s. He crouched by the window and angled it so he couldn’t see out. With a perfect sight down the barrel of the gun he slowly moved until he could see a gap of about a millimeter, then two, then five, then ten. It dawned on him. They weren’t here for him. He decided that he wasn’t going to live his life in other worlds through drugs. He was going to be a snake of this world, and he was going to spend all of his days left on this planet living in what he saw as the real world and exploiting those that did not. With exceptions of course.

Just as planned the pimple assed druggy stumbled down the road, freaked when he saw the cops, tensed up, and kept walking. Shadowing brought Sean to a warehouse by the docks. This was money. This was going to take time. Sean now slept in the abandoned cargo containers during the day and lived at night. He moved in shadows rarely leaving the docks with exception of getting food, for a month, gathering knowledge. Patience was the weapon and with it he built a map of this organization, he knew everything he needed. He even went so far as to sneak into the warehouse so as to hear conversations and get an idea of the layout. He could move freely and undetected by these simpletons. Now that he had all the information he needed and knew that he could destroy the whole place, he walked away.
Beginning again on the streets he started to look for drugs. Although he was tempted by the urges that flowed through his veins to snort the contents of the bag handed to him by the street dealer, he didn’t. This wasn’t about running from the problem, this was about running through it all. Because the urges were quite hard to handle, he was resorted to venting his hunger by strangling the dealer with only his index finger and thumb clasped around his windpipe. He stared through the lower form as if he were nothing, and then he was nothing. His skull cracked as it walloped off the ground. Somewhere between the silence and that sound Sean felt the slightest remorse for this other life he had brought to an end, but it was getting way too easy. He searched the dealers pockets for anything he could use. Anything that could further his knowledge on the structures that were laid out in front of him. The hidden structures that can only be seen by those who aren’t too wrapped up in their own lives to realize are going on all around them. Besides about 300 pounds the only other things he found were his mobile phone and a sheet of acid. "So it is to be acid tonight?” he thought. But the mobile phone would be useful in his climb.

Placed under his tongue like a sweet. So innocent yet so pure. He sat there playing video games surrounded by the mess of a life left behind by the dealer, as it dissolved, as if like butter under his tongue. An hour passed and he decided to step out for a breath of fresh air. As he stepped over pizza boxes and beer cans he picked up a pair of sunglasses that had been lying next to the tv. He placed them on his head like you see all those stupid Americans doing. As he stepped into the fresh air he took a deep breath and got a little light headed. He decided he had better sit down so he pulled an arm chair out to the garden, if you could call it that. Ivy scaled all the walls, bits of rusted tools lay scattered through the long grass that tried to grow through the garbage blanket. He dropped into the chair.

"Hello father. Hello again and a thousand more for all the times I remained silent. The days are dark now my old friend. The days are dark and the dark is filled with moving shadows. Shadows of evil. How did it come to where I am? I can’t see your face any longer. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve forgotten or because you’ve abandoned me, but when I close my eyes I no longer see you. My heart aches at the thought of the friendship we could have had while you were alive. We were both too stubborn, old man, and time doesn’t wait for stubbornness. I know that you’re always going to be a part of me. You created me and I feel your influence. But I have gone further now father. Further than you ever went. I’ve lived my life the way you had hoped, making a few fuck ups along the way, but I tried to fall into place and live. Hold onto that which was most precious and sacred. My connections to other lives. But my love turned against me and I can’t fall into place anymore. I’m beyond redemption. I’ve long passed the point of no return. I know that this isn’t what you would have chosen for me, but hey that’s life. I’m not asking you to condone what I am. I just want to put your mind at ease. Probably for my own sake at some level. I just want you to know that none of this is your fault in anyway. You were a great man and you did all that could ever have been expected. I fucked up, not you. A drink some time old friend? See ya around."