XIV. Dahl's Song
The cameras of Cell Block J-14 in the Julian O'Connor Memorial Prison recorded the same thing they had all week--nothing. Moonlight streamed through the barred windows, showing the placid prisoners. Their food contained sedatives to keep them under control; they routinely slept for 12 hours a day.
The closed-circuit camera system was backed up with a retractable machine gun turret in the ceiling of the hallway. Between the two, there was no reason for human guards to be present. Had they been, they would have seen something the cameras couldn't pick up.
A young man, perhaps twenty years old, came out of the door at the end of the hall. Despite this fact, the door was closed and remained so--he simply materialized out of the door itself, trailing his long black hair. He wore a long, black-and-red coat that swirled around his ankles as he strode purposefully toward cell 1482.
The man grabbed the cell door and the tumblers in the lock clicked open. He slid the heavy door open and strode in, shutting the bars behind him. He strode over to the cell's occupant and grabbed him by the shoulders, lifting the prisoner off the bed and then off the ground.
"Wake up." he said. The prisoner's eyes fluttered open as the sedatives in his bloodstream collapsed into their component chemicals.
"What--what's going on?" asked the dizzy prisoner. "Who are you?"
"My name is Dahl." said the intruder. "And you, not-so-Reverend Daniel Carter, have much to answer for."
Just then, the camera over cell 1482 experienced a technical error, bringing it offline.
"What do you want from me?" he asked Dahl.
Dahl threw Carter to the ground so that his head struck the barred wall of the cell. "Retribution."
"I don't understand--"
"My employer gave you an item of great power, with specific instructions on how to use it. You, however, stepped beyond your station, and decided to use it for other means." Dahl kicked Carter in the stomach. "And now you will return what you have taken."
"The...the blood?" Carter asked. "But I used it exactly as I was instructed!"
"Yes, you did. But then you took liberties with it. One specific liberty. You took that which was not yours and did so without permission. In this one act, you have reviled yourself before Earth--" Dahl slammed Carter's head into the bars. "Heaven--" Dahl kicked Carter in the shoulder. "--and Hell." Dahl threw Carter across the cell. His blood stained the concrete floor.
"But I thought--" whimpered Carter.
"Yes, you did. And Hell does not look kindly on free thought. I am curious, though. How did you rationalize this act? Drinking the blood of any creature is detestable, let alone the blood of one of the most evil beings in existence. It burned your mouth, am I correct?"
Carter knodded his head, obviously in pain.
"And yet you somehow thought that imbibing that liquid would make you more powerful? You were wrong. Your body cannot channel that sort of power. And so I have come..."
Carter heard the blade slide loose. He looked up to see a glittering sword in the demon's grip.
"...to take back what you stole."
Carter's screams echoed off the walls, accompanied by the Rhythm Blade's melodic slashes, playing out a symphony of pain. The rest of the prisoners remained in their drug-induced slumber. As such, no one noticed the other two men that emerged from closed cell doors down the aisle. The taller of the two held a cigarette cupped in his hand, concealing its glow. The other was mumbling to himself.
"He must've had a bad reaction to the sedative...temporary insanity...numerous precedents..." muttered the short one. The tall one remained silent, simply watching as Dahl gleefully cut into Carter long past the point where he had ceased screaming, his blade continuing its morbid song.
Finally, Dahl finished. He touched the tip of the Rhythm Blade to the concrete floor, the beam of light still dancing across its surfact. He turned the pommel, and the blood dripped off the blade, settling to the floor. In its place, a few droplets of slightly brighter blood coursed up the blade, settling at the base.
"Pleasure doing business with you, you bastard." Dahl leered at the corpse. With a satisfied smile on his face, Dahl walked through the door and went back to hell.
Down the hall, Rigel continued to peace together the logical conclusion the guards would come up with after making their morning rounds and discovering Carter. Darrus threw his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out.
"So much for being a good cop." he muttered.
The closed-circuit camera system was backed up with a retractable machine gun turret in the ceiling of the hallway. Between the two, there was no reason for human guards to be present. Had they been, they would have seen something the cameras couldn't pick up.
A young man, perhaps twenty years old, came out of the door at the end of the hall. Despite this fact, the door was closed and remained so--he simply materialized out of the door itself, trailing his long black hair. He wore a long, black-and-red coat that swirled around his ankles as he strode purposefully toward cell 1482.
The man grabbed the cell door and the tumblers in the lock clicked open. He slid the heavy door open and strode in, shutting the bars behind him. He strode over to the cell's occupant and grabbed him by the shoulders, lifting the prisoner off the bed and then off the ground.
"Wake up." he said. The prisoner's eyes fluttered open as the sedatives in his bloodstream collapsed into their component chemicals.
"What--what's going on?" asked the dizzy prisoner. "Who are you?"
"My name is Dahl." said the intruder. "And you, not-so-Reverend Daniel Carter, have much to answer for."
Just then, the camera over cell 1482 experienced a technical error, bringing it offline.
"What do you want from me?" he asked Dahl.
Dahl threw Carter to the ground so that his head struck the barred wall of the cell. "Retribution."
"I don't understand--"
"My employer gave you an item of great power, with specific instructions on how to use it. You, however, stepped beyond your station, and decided to use it for other means." Dahl kicked Carter in the stomach. "And now you will return what you have taken."
"The...the blood?" Carter asked. "But I used it exactly as I was instructed!"
"Yes, you did. But then you took liberties with it. One specific liberty. You took that which was not yours and did so without permission. In this one act, you have reviled yourself before Earth--" Dahl slammed Carter's head into the bars. "Heaven--" Dahl kicked Carter in the shoulder. "--and Hell." Dahl threw Carter across the cell. His blood stained the concrete floor.
"But I thought--" whimpered Carter.
"Yes, you did. And Hell does not look kindly on free thought. I am curious, though. How did you rationalize this act? Drinking the blood of any creature is detestable, let alone the blood of one of the most evil beings in existence. It burned your mouth, am I correct?"
Carter knodded his head, obviously in pain.
"And yet you somehow thought that imbibing that liquid would make you more powerful? You were wrong. Your body cannot channel that sort of power. And so I have come..."
Carter heard the blade slide loose. He looked up to see a glittering sword in the demon's grip.
"...to take back what you stole."
Carter's screams echoed off the walls, accompanied by the Rhythm Blade's melodic slashes, playing out a symphony of pain. The rest of the prisoners remained in their drug-induced slumber. As such, no one noticed the other two men that emerged from closed cell doors down the aisle. The taller of the two held a cigarette cupped in his hand, concealing its glow. The other was mumbling to himself.
"He must've had a bad reaction to the sedative...temporary insanity...numerous precedents..." muttered the short one. The tall one remained silent, simply watching as Dahl gleefully cut into Carter long past the point where he had ceased screaming, his blade continuing its morbid song.
Finally, Dahl finished. He touched the tip of the Rhythm Blade to the concrete floor, the beam of light still dancing across its surfact. He turned the pommel, and the blood dripped off the blade, settling to the floor. In its place, a few droplets of slightly brighter blood coursed up the blade, settling at the base.
"Pleasure doing business with you, you bastard." Dahl leered at the corpse. With a satisfied smile on his face, Dahl walked through the door and went back to hell.
Down the hall, Rigel continued to peace together the logical conclusion the guards would come up with after making their morning rounds and discovering Carter. Darrus threw his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out.
"So much for being a good cop." he muttered.
THE END
posted by Andrew Michael at 8:26 PM
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