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Tempus Fugit, Mors Venit (standard:horror, 2381 words)
Author: Anthony LundAdded: Apr 18 2006Views/Reads: 2524/1247Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A poetic take on Death inspired by the style of Edgar Allan Poe.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

gain knowledge to build and to burn, to think and speak in a way that 
would change as the centuries and millennia rolled by. 

I'm sure you recall the tale of the snake, the serpent of often dubious
intention. He did indeed exist and tempt us to eat the fruit and 
through him my fate came to be. By that time I had children to continue 
our growth, though more of their story I will later tell, so no mercy 
was shown when I succumbed to the beast and took a bite of the apple 
forbidden to me. 

The voice of my creator did shake the land and his hand above me it did
appear. With an ancient command spoken from His tongue the flesh from 
my bones did begin to tear. The indescribable agony that tore me apart 
was the last pain I would ever feel as a man, and as I fell to the 
floor in pool of blood and gore, my eyes were ripped out to leave an 
eternal stare. 

Unseen hands groped inside my body, claws piercing muscle and organs at
will. I was not able to defend myself against them as my intestines 
were spilt on the floor. My heart was squeezed with cruel callous hands 
and the immense pain brought a violent spasm until the chambers 
collapsed. My life came to an end and I lost my soul and my life 
forever more. 

Then the pain was gone and I was left as a frame of bones upon crimson
grass I could not feel. The senses I had known, sight, sound, smell, 
touch and taste had departed with my flesh and been replaced by two new 
ones that chilled my bones, changed my vision to shades of death and 
gave me the smells of decay that filled my skull and would never from 
memory be erased. 

Then the voice of God spoke to me with words that seemed to come from in
my head. ‘This is your curse until the end of existence, the burden you 
will carry for your crime. You will walk this earth through thousands 
of years with nothing but the power of Death at your fingers. Now you 
must take your first victim right here for to start your task I can see 
no better time' 

I rose to my feet, naked bones, nothing more, and turned to face my
love, Eve, with no emotion as tears streamed from her eyes and dripped 
from her chin, while she knew she stared Death in the face. I reached 
out a hand and touched her breast to stop her heart so she fell where 
she stood. She was the first of an infinitum of lives that would be 
taken by me without trace 

I was banished from the Garden as is only right for a murderer cannot be
granted such luxury. I left behind my love, my children and my faith to 
walk in the darkness that only I could see. At the Gates of the Garden 
I saw my face, a hollow shadow on the shining silver post, and that was 
when I saw for the very first time that no-one – not even I – could 
recognize me. 

Chapter 4 - The Price 

I lived in exile for many years after first using the touch  of death
which was mine, with only the price and purpose that I knew would be 
mine forever in time. For those years of exile removed from me the last 
human thoughts I possessed and replaced them with nothing and an 
emptiness that filled the hollow carcass of  mine. 

I could measure the days and nights but found no reason to gage their
passing. I was never going to die so I did not need to worry of how I 
would use what remained for me. I felt neither heat of the day, nor 
cold of night, did not know the touch of  the  desert sand and could 
not taste the waters that ran so clear. apart from my curse I had no 
reason to be. 

That curse did come to be just that when  I was finally required to use
my touch again to end the so short life of a mortal man and I retread 
my steps back to the Garden's Gate. Some things remain mysteries in our 
eyes, like how I always knew who I had been sent to find and when my 
dark gaze fell upon my eldest son any thoughts of saving my soul began 
to dissipate. 

The sons and daughters of Adam and Eve were doomed to die one day as
they all knew. I had never thought it would be by my own hand their 
last breaths from their bodies would be claimed. That was the lesson I 
learned well and fast, that Death waits for all men through their 
lives. No matter what others see take that life the price I pay is I am 
always to blame. 

Chapter 5 - The Long Road Of Time 

So my journey as the Death of men began with my love and my son then
when on through the early years when the race was young, when humans 
were fresh and new. I froze the blood of the first civilizations, 
closed their hearts in their chests as they stood. I saw Noah's demise 
after he survived the flood of God and the others who died in the 
waters deep and blue. 

In the new world that came next I travelled on until my time once again
came. I took the lives of man, woman and child as their images came 
into my eyes. Prophets and Kings were no different, no different than 
the paupers and the beggars. Even the Son of God, yes Christ himself 
found, for a short while, that every man dies. 

On down the long road I wandered, my fleshless feet walking on sand,
stone and dirt. Through hundreds of years in floating black robes, 
alone but for the souls of the departed. Their haunting cries belong to 
only me, their sorrow and pain mine for eternity and although I do not 
feel I still know too well of those left behind in their wake broken 

Pontius Pilate and William the First. Marco Polo, Columbus and Henry VII
to name a few all  fell  to  the  power of my deadly hand, Their power 
in life meaning nothing to Death. Leaders Lincoln, Hitler and 
Churchill. Beethoven, Mozart, and Bach of the music world. The victims 
of Jack The Ripper too did die slain like the tragic character of 

My way now goes on and on, millennia have passed me by without a glance
as I have taken innocent lives like roses from a bush. From newborn 
babies to a Princess so sublime I have watched the pain I cause through 
this darkness I exist within; unable to feel, unable to love as the 
people do. Only able to move on along the long road of time. 

Chapter 6 - Reflections 

So there you are, you know my tale from gruesome beginning to the
lonesome end. I'm not sure what you think of me now or if you even 
heard anything of what I've said. I would like to say I do not blame 
you if you feel sorry for me, hate me or are unsure of what you should 
feel for this creature, this monster of creation that will render you 

All I ask is do not fear that I may come and steal your life as you
slumber at night, for there is a much worse fate that could wait for 
you than to die by my treacherous hand. I'm sure you'll agree that the 
fate which is mine is quite fittingly a fate worse than death. To walk 
through time with infinite souls in tow without emotion that other men 
can command. 

But as I have said do not waste your pity on such a wretched abomination
of God as I. I do not feel it, cannot thank you for it and in the end 
by my finger you will still pass on. I would say I am glad that I do 
not feel but the emotion of joy also passes me by. At least I do not 
suffer the hurt felt by those left behind when they find their lovers 
and friends have gone. 

My one regret, if I could have one that is, was the death of my one true
love, Eve. Back then in the Garden I was a complete man, I had 
everything right there before me. I have asked myself many times why I 
had to be cursed with this affliction of immortality, To travel on and 
on the long road to the end of time, To go unseen by people who do not 
recognize me. 

I will leave you now for my journey goes on and will do long after
everyone around me is dead. I do not know when your time will come just 
yet but I guarantee I will be there to see you go. So be grateful of 
the time you have here for your greatest gift is that it is relatively 
short. Eternal life is not always what it seems and I have realized it 
moves agonizingly slow. 

I walk along the cobbled street, just the shadow of a man once called
Adam. Death is my name until the end of the race of man when what will 
become of me I cannot foresee. I have hoped many times that at end of 
days God will finally rest my bones in the ground, but the other souls 
of the departed will not let me rest as I know they are all sure to 
recognize me. 


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