Hearts of Darkness
25-09-2005, 05:44
It’s a funny thing, the passing of time, how events so wrapped in moral turmoil and the impenetrable shroud of the future, make so much sense when one stops to look back at their own long winding footsteps. Hmm, hardly funny, but words must be chosen, decisions must be made. I keep telling myself that, it was a decision, I had a choice. It seems so like a spider’s web, the more I work to justify my own freedom, the more terrible sticky strands of truth bind me to my ultimate doom and fate.
Nathaniel was an old man. This is where many may write of how he has seen many things, which is true, but to him he has only seen one place, lived one year. Everything led up to that time, and everything after was merely an extension to ponder the truths he had beheld. Nathaniel’s father had served in the military, his grandfather had served, and so and so forth. So he in turn had served, but he was not a soldier, more accurately he was an unwitting pilgrim.
“It’s a dark place, or that’s what the guys from C company say,” Nathaniel was young now, a strapping twenty years old. Like so many before him he held a rifle ready to defend his nation and all its people.
“You know C company is where they put the lying shits, don’t listen to him man,” snarled a friend of Nathaniel’s, a friend whose name he couldn’t recall.
“Naa man, its really evil that place, forsaken, why’d ya think they chose to send in the SF?” the soldier spoke up, knowing little of the truths he proclaimed like God’s mouth.
The word’s echoed and a week passed, it was dark. Slowly the choppers floated along strands of wind, white water slowly churning among time carved rocks below. Why did they send the special forces. Why did it matter, time began to blur, kindly suspending its laws for this holy acolyte traveling to his unknowable temple.
“Ten minutes to touchdown..."
“Five minutes...”
“One minute...”
“Thirty seconds...”
“Lets go hit it, move, move, move...”
It was a forest, or at least it had been one before time had clawed its life away, now it was a testament to what once was. Damn, it really was dark, the sun hardly shown threw winding trees and strangling vines. Wait, why am I here?
“Come on Sibert, lets move, we’re on the ground!” Sibert was his last name, a fact he too almost forgot from time to time.
“Too fucking much marching, that’s what it must be, now get up,” He was moving. There was a weight in his hands, his gun, it seemed foreign to him. There was another weight on his back, the radio, more weights on his sides, who the hell cares. So much weight, why? Why, it’s a question not asked enough, why all the weight? Why?
They all died, don’t worry you will see, trust me until then. Those voices, those men. Those voices had been men, friends. It didn’t matter now, some say everyone is equal in death.
“Look alive, we are approaching the target.”
“Look alive, I hear something.”
“Look alive... Oh shit, Charlie!”
Funny how one must be told to look alive, but then you see those like Nathaniel in the years following his life, that one year of it, and you know it must be done from time to time.
“Damnit, Sibert, call for evac, we need it, shit!”
Evac from what, what were they doing here. Nathaniel didn’t know, he didn’t care. Now there was a lot more sound,
cracks of metal,
cracks of air,
cracks of bones.
All around sounds.
“Sibert, what are you doing, call for...”
The last sound, a crack.
I hope you now know you can trust me, they all died. More than their deaths occurred, though, Sibert saw.
Great brooding figures stood over muted voices, no they were no longer just voices, they were men. The world shown with a new corporeal light. Every detail shown in crystal precision, like a box of diamonds under a brilliant sun. So this was the world. Nathaniel dropped his radio, dropped his gun, and dropped that which weighed on him. So this was freedom.
Now, of course, it can be said that Nathaniel left this place, and that is true. He returned to his country an enigma, a heroic enigma, but still an enigma. What had happened, they had been MIA for over a year. More than most can understand can happen in an instant, don’t bother with a year. He was debriefed, of he was debriefed, many would consider the remainder of his life a debriefing, to more sources then his government.
Some may say he proclaimed the truth of that year, but they are wrong. He had but a few words for all those who would question,
“Life and time are steps, a staircase none can surmount, but what does happen should one witness its end, the inevitability of it all.”
He would have been locked away, deemed unfit for society had the media not caught wind of this story with its long reaching arms. So he was lucky and he lived his afterlife alone. A wife came and went, but she like those men were nothing but voices in mist.
Nathaniel was in that place where his sight had cleared, almost a year after his “capture.” That single moment of clarity had faded, but he craved it like the purest drug it was. Voice came to him.
“Nathaniel, we saw it in your eyes, you saw what is never seen.”
“Nathaniel, there is something you must do, not yet, but when the time comes, you must.”
“Nathaniel the time it coming, will all you can muster be ready?”
This continued for time unknowable until a single sentence came into his world.
“This time has come, Nathaniel, you must choose between sanity and blindness, or insanity and clarity.”
He had a choice, but it seemed fate had dictated against his heart. His voice croaked, like a rebellious dog, “I choose sanity.” He chose sanity.
“So be it, then be gone with you, but may you witness what we have seen for but a second.”
At that words came flooding to him, words beyond the limits of paper, words none could ever say, but exist all the same. So for a single instant he saw what they saw, the end of that infinite staircase. He saw life. Then the darkness came back with such a sudden force he was floating in a tomb a mile off his nations shores when he awoke next.
So his story comes full circle, and there are gaps, I know. Is it not a fact of life however, that there are gaps in even our own stories, no matter how hard we try. Perhaps however, should he have chosen to insanity, the gaps to his very existence would have closed. It is a pity however that we shall never know.
For all the grandeur of that tale, one that dwarfs it is to come soon, so soon.
OOC: Sorry for how confusing that may have been, but I wanted to lay down a mood for my nation more than anything else, so plot came secondary. Either that or it is because I am writing this late at night and am dead tired. I know there is no way to reply yet, but there will be one soon. Also tell me if all the formatting actually helps it, or is just a pain.
Nathaniel was an old man. This is where many may write of how he has seen many things, which is true, but to him he has only seen one place, lived one year. Everything led up to that time, and everything after was merely an extension to ponder the truths he had beheld. Nathaniel’s father had served in the military, his grandfather had served, and so and so forth. So he in turn had served, but he was not a soldier, more accurately he was an unwitting pilgrim.
“It’s a dark place, or that’s what the guys from C company say,” Nathaniel was young now, a strapping twenty years old. Like so many before him he held a rifle ready to defend his nation and all its people.
“You know C company is where they put the lying shits, don’t listen to him man,” snarled a friend of Nathaniel’s, a friend whose name he couldn’t recall.
“Naa man, its really evil that place, forsaken, why’d ya think they chose to send in the SF?” the soldier spoke up, knowing little of the truths he proclaimed like God’s mouth.
The word’s echoed and a week passed, it was dark. Slowly the choppers floated along strands of wind, white water slowly churning among time carved rocks below. Why did they send the special forces. Why did it matter, time began to blur, kindly suspending its laws for this holy acolyte traveling to his unknowable temple.
“Ten minutes to touchdown..."
“Five minutes...”
“One minute...”
“Thirty seconds...”
“Lets go hit it, move, move, move...”
It was a forest, or at least it had been one before time had clawed its life away, now it was a testament to what once was. Damn, it really was dark, the sun hardly shown threw winding trees and strangling vines. Wait, why am I here?
“Come on Sibert, lets move, we’re on the ground!” Sibert was his last name, a fact he too almost forgot from time to time.
“Too fucking much marching, that’s what it must be, now get up,” He was moving. There was a weight in his hands, his gun, it seemed foreign to him. There was another weight on his back, the radio, more weights on his sides, who the hell cares. So much weight, why? Why, it’s a question not asked enough, why all the weight? Why?
They all died, don’t worry you will see, trust me until then. Those voices, those men. Those voices had been men, friends. It didn’t matter now, some say everyone is equal in death.
“Look alive, we are approaching the target.”
“Look alive, I hear something.”
“Look alive... Oh shit, Charlie!”
Funny how one must be told to look alive, but then you see those like Nathaniel in the years following his life, that one year of it, and you know it must be done from time to time.
“Damnit, Sibert, call for evac, we need it, shit!”
Evac from what, what were they doing here. Nathaniel didn’t know, he didn’t care. Now there was a lot more sound,
cracks of metal,
cracks of air,
cracks of bones.
All around sounds.
“Sibert, what are you doing, call for...”
The last sound, a crack.
I hope you now know you can trust me, they all died. More than their deaths occurred, though, Sibert saw.
Great brooding figures stood over muted voices, no they were no longer just voices, they were men. The world shown with a new corporeal light. Every detail shown in crystal precision, like a box of diamonds under a brilliant sun. So this was the world. Nathaniel dropped his radio, dropped his gun, and dropped that which weighed on him. So this was freedom.
Now, of course, it can be said that Nathaniel left this place, and that is true. He returned to his country an enigma, a heroic enigma, but still an enigma. What had happened, they had been MIA for over a year. More than most can understand can happen in an instant, don’t bother with a year. He was debriefed, of he was debriefed, many would consider the remainder of his life a debriefing, to more sources then his government.
Some may say he proclaimed the truth of that year, but they are wrong. He had but a few words for all those who would question,
“Life and time are steps, a staircase none can surmount, but what does happen should one witness its end, the inevitability of it all.”
He would have been locked away, deemed unfit for society had the media not caught wind of this story with its long reaching arms. So he was lucky and he lived his afterlife alone. A wife came and went, but she like those men were nothing but voices in mist.
Nathaniel was in that place where his sight had cleared, almost a year after his “capture.” That single moment of clarity had faded, but he craved it like the purest drug it was. Voice came to him.
“Nathaniel, we saw it in your eyes, you saw what is never seen.”
“Nathaniel, there is something you must do, not yet, but when the time comes, you must.”
“Nathaniel the time it coming, will all you can muster be ready?”
This continued for time unknowable until a single sentence came into his world.
“This time has come, Nathaniel, you must choose between sanity and blindness, or insanity and clarity.”
He had a choice, but it seemed fate had dictated against his heart. His voice croaked, like a rebellious dog, “I choose sanity.” He chose sanity.
“So be it, then be gone with you, but may you witness what we have seen for but a second.”
At that words came flooding to him, words beyond the limits of paper, words none could ever say, but exist all the same. So for a single instant he saw what they saw, the end of that infinite staircase. He saw life. Then the darkness came back with such a sudden force he was floating in a tomb a mile off his nations shores when he awoke next.
So his story comes full circle, and there are gaps, I know. Is it not a fact of life however, that there are gaps in even our own stories, no matter how hard we try. Perhaps however, should he have chosen to insanity, the gaps to his very existence would have closed. It is a pity however that we shall never know.
For all the grandeur of that tale, one that dwarfs it is to come soon, so soon.
OOC: Sorry for how confusing that may have been, but I wanted to lay down a mood for my nation more than anything else, so plot came secondary. Either that or it is because I am writing this late at night and am dead tired. I know there is no way to reply yet, but there will be one soon. Also tell me if all the formatting actually helps it, or is just a pain.