Kill The Gerard

I was a good man once. In the beginning. Before I lost…

Her.

We’ve got it all wrong, you know. The whole idea that the evil go to Hell and the good go to Heaven. It’s bullshit. It’s all about who gets to you first.

The demons got to her.

Don’t ask me how I know this. It’s so hard to explain. I saw it happen, in the blink of an eye. I was holding her in my arms, bloody and weak, and she was gone.

But then there she stood, by my side as always, whispering my name. Her eyes were sad and unbelieving. She had an ethereal glow about her that I’d always imagined in life. My darling girl.

And that was when they came for her.

Shadows rushed forth and wrapped around her, swallowing her whole. She screamed for me and was gone once more.

And as the shadows faded, I was bathed in a light from above. The most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen came before my eyes. An angel descended and looked curiously around. Its eyes settled on her body, growing cold in my arms, and a sad look came over its face. I’ve never seen such sorrowful beauty.

Without a glance toward me, it dissolved from my sight in the same warm light it arrived in.

I wasn’t supposed to see it all. I don’t know why I did.

And that was when the deal was made.

A whiff of sulphur and he was there, as I held the body of my beloved close. He laughed at my pain and my tears. I supposed he was the Devil, but who the hell knows? He told me things that boggled my mind and made me an offer.

One thousand evil souls in exchange for my love’s freedom to go to Heaven. There was no question, really. How could I refuse?

And so it was signed and sealed, and I was on my way.

I faded from the limelight rather easily. A passing fad, as the critics tend to say. It was much harder to let go of my band mates – my brothers – and harder still for them to let go of me. My little brother took it the hardest of all. You see, I couldn’t tell them what had happened, or where I was going. They thought I was merely grieving.

But I had a job to do.

I disappeared from all who knew me. The house that she and I had shared was abandoned. I never sang again. It was as though I had never existed at all.

It’s been five years since that fateful night when she was taken from me. My mission is almost complete. It’s been a long, hard road, and the years, no doubt, have changed me.

But it will all be over tonight. Nine hundred and ninety-nine souls I’ve collected for that son of a bitch. One more and my love will be set free to go where she belongs. Just one more.

I glance at the arsenal of weapons I’ve acquired over the years. Pistols, sawn-off shotguns, and every type of blade you could imagine.

I like the knives best. Though a hail of bullets is often more effective, the knives are what make it worthwhile. You see, you have to have close contact to use a knife. It lets me get close enough to see that what I’m killing is truly evil. It makes what I do almost bearable.

I select my favorite knife from its snug hook on the wall and finger the blade gently, making sure that it’s sharp. Tonight is a momentous occasion; it needs to go off without a hitch.

I sheath my weapon and look to the book on my bedside table. For a moment I stand fearful, not wanting to pick it up. Willing myself forward, I reach for the book and slowly leaf through its pages, reading my own scratchy handwriting. The names of every victim are scrawled neatly on the lines, along with the dates of their deaths. Underneath each name is a list of that victim’s own crimes as a way of keeping my sanity. It only goes so far to console me, though.

I flip to the very last page, to number 1,000. Ah, yes. I’ve been saving him for last. I don’t think I’ll have a problem doing my job tonight. A man who has committed the terrible crimes that he has deserves what he’s got coming.

I close the book gingerly and place it back on the table. I move to the bathroom and gaze into the mirror. My reflection stares back, unwavering. My hazel eyes have darkened and hollowed. The humanity in them has almost disappeared completely. Indeed, there is very little of me left at all.

Yes, I was once a good man.

Sighing heavily, I turn away from the mirror and gather my things. With one last glance at the picture of her pinned next to the bed, I shut off the lights and leave the room, closing the door firmly behind me.

Shuffling down the streets, I’m not surprised when it begins to rain. I pull my hood up over my head, as I often do. No one is on the sidewalk at this time of night, but even if they were, they wouldn’t notice me. They never do. I slip past without an upward glance. So much the better.

Before I know it, I reach my destination. An abandoned warehouse, dilapidated and dank. I know he is here.

I slink through a gap in the beams used to board up the old door. My feet don’t make a sound as I whisper past piles of boxes. I hear a faint clicking near the back of the warehouse, and I know where to find my prey.

Crouching behind a stack of bricks, I peek out into the furthest corner of the building. This is where he lives, you see. I’m startled to see that the area is empty. The lump of rags he uses for a bed lays disheveled and abandoned. The scarred wooden table is bare and the chair is turned over on its side. The flickering light overhead gives no comfort as I realize with a sinking feeling that something is very wrong.

Without warning, the fiend leaps from the bricks above, brandishing his own wicked blade. I hardly have enough time to clamber out of the way, and as I move, his knee collides with my head, making me see stars.

My brief disorientation is all he needs, and I scream as I feel the white-hot blade pierce my shoulder. Slashing wildly with my own knife, I back away quickly, clutching at my wound. It’s painful, but not deadly, and once I am sure of this, I look back towards my foe as he crouches near the bricks.

I am relieved to see that I have made contact. Three large gashes stretch across his chest, spilling blood onto the floor beneath him. The damage isn’t fatal, but it’ll slow him down, for sure.

However, before I am able to form my own plan of action, he springs at me once more. I slash upward in surprise. I grimace as I feel a rush of blood and look up to see the gaping cut in his throat, the mortal wound inflicted.

It is done.

But before I can move, he stumbles at me once more, holding his knife still with the last of his strength. I gasp as I feel its blade slide between my ribs and push deep into my chest underneath his weight.

He rolls off of me, dead and still. I crawl desperately toward the table, but collapse before I reach it. I cough and choke as blood wells up from my lungs. Touching my chest, I am astonished to see my hand covered in deep red blood. My frenzied mind can only think that the stain will never wash off.

The lights begin to fade a moment later, and then they all go dark. When I open my eyes once more, I am no longer on the floor.

I am standing beside my own broken body, utterly lost. And as the realization of my own death begins to hit me, the shadows creep forward, as I’d seen them do before.

And once more the Devil stands before me, holding the arm of my love. With a hideous grin, he releases her. The warm, angelic light I remember from all those years ago surrounds us as she places her hand on my cheek and kisses me. She avoids looking at my body beside me, and stares deeply into my eyes. The sorrow on her face is heartbreaking as she backs away from me and joins the angel.

I take a step to follow her, but his evil laughter halts me in my tracks. My beloved fades away in the angel’s heavenly light, and I am left alone with the Devil himself. I realize with horror that it was me he was after all along.

Then his fiery hand clamps down on my shoulder, and I see no more.