Ryan's Suffering

by Lloyd Paulson

Without thinking, I said, "Show yourselves."

  Before me materialized two terrifying yet opposite sights. On the left, in a brilliant white light emerged a human form, and on the right in inky blackness oozed forth a dark robed form. Both were tall and imposing.

  "Well, I don't have to guess where each of you is from."

  The black one spoke first. "What do you want, Nephilim?"

  "To stop them."

  The demon laughed. "I'd much prefer they succeed."

  I glanced over, annoyed. "I think the angel would disagree."

  "That's not up to me. I don't presume to know the mind of God," the angel said.

  "Why would God answer my prayer?" I asked.

  The angel shrugged. "Why wouldn't he?"

  "I'm a suicide. Mortal sin. Banned for eternity."

  The demon held his hands open. "We'd be happy to have you."

  "You did so in self-sacrifice. Would that redeem you?" The angel asked.

  I thought about that for a minute. "I don't know."

  The angel shrugged. "Neither do I. As I said, I don't presume to know the mind of God."

  "Why does He allow suffering to exist?" I asked.

  "What is reward, without risk? It would be completely empty. It's a side effect of free will. You must be free to choose, but the risk of choice is consequences and suffering."

  I frowned. "That's a raw deal. But back to the problem, what can I do to stop this?" I pointed at the Moloch statue.

  The demon shrugged. "Who said you could stop this?"

  "I did."

  The angel asked, "The whole outcome of this has always been your choice. What's stopping you, then? "

  I pointed over at my wife and children.

  The demon laughed.

  "I don't see what's so fucking funny." Joe Cool sighed, and pointed out the obvious. Exactly how much of a threat are they right this minute? I felt my cheeks go bright red.

  I stomped off towards my family. "Fuck you guys. You could've said something instead of standing there yammering away like a couple of assholes." I glanced back at them. They were standing, watching me.

  "Yeah, go on. Fucking assholes." I had my hand on the guard's gun.

  The world started back up, all at once.

  Before the guards could react, I flipped Tom, Trish, and the kids into the Shadow Lands.

  Quickly, I stripped their bindings. "I've got to go back and stop them."

  Tom said, "Take me with you."

  Trish hugged me fiercely.

  I kissed her, and hugged the children. "I love you guys. Trish, stay here with the children. I'll be back to bring you home."

  I pointed, and Tom and I walked over a distance, before we flipped back.

  We had judged the distance correctly. We were at the edge of the bonfire, and had only a short distance to go. Tanner and Paul were hoisting the first child up to the palms of the Moloch statue.

  I shot Tanner in the knee, and he collapsed. The child landed on his feet, and he ran back towards the other children. The crowd skittered backwards, murmuring in fear. The drumbeats continued for a few seconds, and tapered off.

  Paul looked wildly over to where my family was, but they were gone, safely hidden away in the Shadows for the moment. I pointed my gun at him, and told my father to get on his knees. I walked around behind him, holding the gun to his head.

  I thought about piss-stained closets and the little boy whose screams would haunt me to my grave. I thought about Sarah, whose screams will also haunt me to my grave. I thought about Carla, pushed into the fire, who also died in agony. I thought about my mother, intestines in her hand, forced to commit suicide rather than face any more excruciating pain. "This is for all the people you hurt. But above all else, this is for family."

  Tom laid a hand on my arm. "Ryan…"

  I shook his hand off. "This is for Carla, and this is for mom."

  I pistol-whipped him upside the head.

  At the end of the milling confusion of the crowd, I saw a limo pulling up the road from the woods.

  I looked at Tom. "Now how in the fuck?"

  Tom pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Fucking idiots never searched me. Ever heard of find my iPhone?"

  I laughed. "Keep an eye on these idiots. I'm going to go get my family."

  ~~~~~~ *LP* ~~~~~~

  I stood in the clearing with Trish. I held a gun in one hand, and her hand in the other. The fire was starting to die down, but the proliferation of emergency vehicles coming up the driveway was lighting up the clearing just fine.

  "Trish?"

  "Hmmm?"

  "I never meant to hurt you. I was only trying to protect you from my past. I'm sorry. I promise to tell you anything you want to know. No more secrets."

  She laid her head on my shoulder. "Good."

  "No, I really mean it. Anything you want to know."

  I could see Ridenour walking towards us, his hat in his hand.

  Tom walked up to us first. "Tanner's gone."

  I looked at him. "What do you mean, gone?"

  Tom shrugged. "There's no sign of him."

  I looked over at the children, where Justin and the police were working frantically to keep them together and calm them down. The entire clearing was a madhouse.

  Ridenour stopped, and looked around the clearing. His radio was crackling frantically with constant transmissions.

  I looked down at the ground, before looking up. "Detective."

  He looked at me. Shook his head. "Ryan."

  Ridenour looked down at Paul, seated on the ground, his hands bound in duct tape. "I believe I have some questions for him. But first, do you want to tell me what the fuck's going on here, Ryan?"

  "Detective," I looked up at him, and I said with great sincerity, "I don't remember a goddamned thing."

  D.N.

  # # #

  Epilogue

  Thank you so much for reading this story. Without you, the reader, this effort is for naught. If you've enjoyed it, you can honor me the best by taking a few minutes to leave feedback at your favorite retailer so other people can discover and enjoy this story that I have to share!

  Stay tuned, there's more brewing with Ryan…

  I was born and raised in Michigan, and I live with my wife (whom I married on Friday the 13th!) and children in Jackson, MI. The kids used to make up stories when they were very young, and when they were learning to read, they thought that stories ended with "D.N.", not "The End". Hence the two initials at the end of the story. My stories will always end with those initials, as homage to my two youngest.

  As the story has made clear, I'm a survivor of many things. You do that with support. Don't hesitate to reach for support if you need it. That's what family, friends, and community resources are for. Use them.

  If you're a victim of violence, don't continue to be victimized. You don't deserve to live in Hell, no matter what the perpetrator keeps telling you. The risk of violence extends beyond harm. The psychological damage accumulates, and for some, the risk extends to a potential for homicide. There's community resources, and you will learn to live without them. Run. Now. Dial 911. Contact your local shelter, your minister, your Department of Human Services. Take action; seek help. You will survive, but you have to take the first step to escape.

  Depression has real risk. I almost took my own life at several points. Again, seek help if you need it. Don't wait; don't hesitate. Every life is precious. If you're thinking of harming yourself, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-8255, or call 911. There's community resources available to help you with this. You can learn to live with mental illness.

 

 

 
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