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The Marionette |
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Written by N/A
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Tuesday, 17 October 2006 |
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A short story by Jon Tzilos.
The following was seized by government officials after a police involved shootout which left the man carrying it, a one Mr. Edward Bison, dead. It was collected along with several rather strange articles from the his home office shortly after his death.
If you're reading this now, it's already been done. Myself, I'm either awaiting execution on death row or already dead. If you've found this letter, you've probably already rummaged though the rest of my belongings and found some interesting objects which were not to be expected. Now, let me explain what has happened here tonight to you as best I can, so as not to confuse the truth.
I had returned from New England on business nearly a year ago, and promptly returned to my home after a long and tiring flight. The first few nights were fine, the average days for me. On the thursday after I returned though, the 3rd I believe it was, things started to change. I can't exactly explain it, but from then on was different. Things seemed clearer to me in general. The conversations I had that day seemed more lucid, more enlightening. Early that morning for example, as I stepped outside to retrieve my daily newspaper, when my neighbour, Jake Oscine stopped to have a word with me. I could feel the morning sun reflecting off of my skin. I could feel it's slight burn on my soul itself. I watched as Jake's lips moved almost slowly for his words, like I could hear what he said before the sound even left him. After several minutes of observing Jake, I realized that I've had some sort of revelation. I could hear every sound, however small, clearly and distinctly. It was like nothing I've ever experienced before; I could hear Jake's jokes as if they were my own thoughts, I could hear a dog panting from half a block away as if I were lying next to him, panting myself from the unbearable heat.
I seemed to drift off, lost in all these new sounds and sensations...until I heard something that startled me like nothing before. Indescribable really, it sounded like the wail of a banshee, sounded from the depths of hell itself. Suddenly, after that horrible noise, I saw nothing, as if my reality had simply fallen away. Again, a sensation that could not be described. I didn't suddenly see black, or a flash of white...it was a colour that should not even exist. Feeling as if I was sinking, not falling exactly, I began to flail wildly, hopelessly trying to grab onto the this horrendous colour which seemed to ooze down invisible walls all around me. I finally felt my hand grip something, and as I turned my head to see what it was I was horrified. I had not grabbed onto anything, no, but I was the one in it's grip. A figure, emitting a sobering glow, with it's delicate hand holding my arm. I stared at it with sheer amazement, paralyzed by it's unnatural beauty. It was a woman, but it was not a being from this realm. She was dressed in an almost doll-like fashion, a victorian style corset and tattered skirt, and what looked to be felt slippers. Her face was a vibrant tone, as it seemed to be the primary source of light in this strange place. As her radiant skin shone, that oozing colour seemed to recess to no where, all but disappearing. I was now standing in what looked to be my own office, with this gorgeous creature gripping my arm.
She began to circle slowly, still holding my forearm. She danced as she circled, her felt slippers making absolutely no noise as they made contact with the floorboards. I could now hear a soothing ballad play, as if coming from a music box. It didn't dawn on me until much later that at that moment I was dancing my dance of fate with a fatal marionette of a woman, lost in her siren-like laugh and calming green eyes. We danced for what must have been days, as she smiled the entire time. She finally released my arm in a sudden but just as delicate movement, and her smile faded to a neutral stare. She looked behind me, and her eyes themselves changed shades into a deep blue, like the farthest depths of the unknown were represented in her eyes. She opened her mouth to scream, and at that moment I could feel a great weight bearing down on me, as I sank to the floor. I dropped to my knees, and tilted my head up, I could see her crawling backwards through the office, getting up against the side of my desk, and holding her knees. I felt a sudden sharp pain in my head, as I heard a deafening noise right next to my ear, sounding like a succession of a thousand gunshots. I went completely deaf, and slumped over to the ground, the woman still in my view; the image of her crying on the floor now tilted and slightly distorted. I watched in complete fear as a fully robed and hooded figure, much larger than her, stepped over me and walked towards her. He stepped in front of her, obstructing my view, as he turned his head cautiously towards me. I stared as his head rotated, all the way around without moving his body the slightest. I couldn't see what was hidden inside the hood, but just the thought of him staring at me paralyzed me. He turned his head back to the woman. His hands outstretched, he lifted them towards the sky. In one sudden movement, he slammed his arms downward. All that was heard was a terrifying scream, a scream so loud it actually blinded me completely. It seemed to go for hours, but it finally faded to total silence. I tried to move, but with no luck. I had no idea what had just happened, and was ignorant to what I had just taken part in.
Colour started to filter back into my vision, and all I saw was the the blue sky above me, clear apart from a few assorted clouds. As my hearing began to come back, I heard a lesser but confusing screaming all around me. I heard people yelling and crying, the dog still panting, but Jake's voice was not present. I regained my mobility and feeling, and quickly noticed that I had a sharp pain in my head, similar to what I had felt while on my knees staring at the marionette. I moved my right arm slightly, as it slid over the sticky and wet pavement. I heard sirens in the distance, sounding like a battalion of police officers. I was still staring at the sky when I heard the cars stop and the doors open. The police were yelling and I could hear them approaching, but to my surprise the steps slowed as they got closer. The yells faded into an awkward silence, and the footsteps stopped altogether. After several seconds of complete nothing, I could barely make out new voices. All of which were either crying uncontrollably or screaming curses and praying at the same time. I even heard a man crying, occasionally breaking out in hysterical laughter. After minutes of crying and praying, I heard a single set of feet approach me, and I squinted to see who it was when a single figure stepped over me, blocking out the sun. I couldn't make out his face, but I could see his terrified expression, tears flowing steadily out of his eyes. He backed up slowly, still staring into my eyes, as he removed his radio awkwardly from his belt. To this day I don't know exactly what happened that day; what became of Jake Oscine, or what drove an entire police precinct to insanity. The whole of the police force present was shortly after committed to the local asylum, along with each witness that had seen whatever it was I'd done. The particular sergeant who had the courage to walk over to me, was the only one who could speak when the rest of the officials arrived.
I was put on the city hospital for two months, and for that entire time the city block where the incident had taken place was closed to the public. I was released with no explanation of what had happened that morning, and when I went home the whole block was repopulated with new citizens. As I stepped up my porch steps the first afternoon I was released, I saw red stains all over them, deep in the cement and in the mortar on the walls. This I found disturbing, because I found out shortly after from one of my new neighbours that the sidewalks were completely replaced after the incident. Whatever I had done that day had been so horrible, the blood stains are forever present in the sidewalks, no matter how many times they are replaced.
When the hospital let me go, I was shocked to find that I had suffered a massive head wound, the size of which should have killed any man. The staff said that I was brought there by the police, and was to be let go when I was healed. Since then, I had not even as much seen a police officer in my neighborhood, let alone talked to one. The first few days out were unusually quiet, no one asked me about myself or what had happened, and I didn't ask either. To be honest, I don't want to know what happened there. It was the third day I was released that I found an unwanted clue. I was passing a newspaper stand on the corner of my block when I saw a tabloid opened to the third page. It was a section on the story of what had happened. On that one part was a disturbing piece of information. The tabloid reporter who wrote the article had somehow gotten to interview a witness to the event, and had listed some of the things mentioned, In the list, was a point detailing the patients constant reference to "the doll". That was all I needed to see before tossing the paper to the ground and hurrying home. For the first time since my release I gathered the courage to go into my office, I had froze up at the very sight of the door until now. I was driven by pure curiosity as I placed my hand on the gold plated doorknob. I didn't think much of it at the time, but as I did, a flake of what I thought was rust peeled off the knob with the movement of my hand and fluttered to the floor. As you may know already, gold does not rust. The flake that fell from my palm was not what I thought it was, but a small piece of dried blood. As I stepped into the office, everything seemed to be normal at first. I walked around cautiously, inspecting everything from a safe distance. I was fairly calm until I looked down at the side of my desk, where the woman had been hiding in whatever that was that I had seen. The side of it was stained a dark red, outlining the silhouette of a her. I walked closer to it and stared at the silhouette. The stain was actually inside the wood, like it was a natural colouration.
I felt something then, while I was crouched beside my desk. I felt someone was in the room with me, and I was correct. I turned my head, and there she was. The woman from that day, sitting on a storage crate with her legs crossed, laughing under her breath. I looked at her closer and saw she had blood stains on her corset, several actually. She hopped off the crate with a giggle and walked closer to me, still stepping silently. As she got closer I saw her eyes once again, they were now a gorgeous hazel shade, reflecting everything in the room. The immediate space around her lit up as she danced closer and closer, until she stopped three feet in front of me. She pinched her skirt and knelt, a curtsey which only fueled my wonder. Her eyes glided across my face, and stopped when the met my gaze. We stared at each other for several seconds, before she moved her face closer, until her lips rested on my cheek. She breathed in deeply and kissed me, and that's when I saw it. I saw my life change permanently before my eyes. In those lips she held all the answers, answers to all the questions I've ever asked about all subjects. God, life, politics, feelings, logic...it was all explained with a kiss.
She stands over me know, her hands on my shoulders as I write this, my last testament. She's opened me up to all the secrets previously unknown by mankind, and never again to be realized. Ha, she's just handed me what will be my undoing. The tool she has chosen for me to present my findings to the world, to release all this new wisdom and revelation. Now, I'm done this letter to you. She's beckoning me now, I have to go with her and fulfill my fate. Since that dance, since that kiss...I'm powerless. She's shown me a whole new life, and I can't stay with my current one any longer. No, not after everything I've just learned. So, I'll go now, with hatchet in hand, and say my final goodbyes to a broken world.
Edward Bison was shot dead by police in front of his house. He was reported to have brutally murdered 12 of his neighbours with an unusual hand axe before police arrived, at which point he managed to murder an additional three policemen before being shot to death. Adding to the unusual event is the fact that Bison had been shot before killing any of the police, and that he continued to be shot while attacking them. Bison suffered a total of 48 gunshot wounds before dying. Witnesses who can still speak only mention "the doll", as strange as it may seem. |
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