The Sinner

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The Sinner Page 6

by K. Trap Jones


  Raced through random thoughts

  Trying to decipher the information presented.

  Once my mind accepted the terms,

  It came to one conclusion.

  I had received the plague.

  My throat became tight

  As if fear itself was strangling me.

  My skin became cold and drenched with sweat

  As the verdict was read to me from within.

  My sentence surely was death.

  My mortality had no defense.

  My life was altered by that touch.

  That mere selfless act of kindness had doomed me.

  With my emotions in a battered state,

  I shifted from worrying to anger.

  I snarled down at the sniffling traveler

  Who had so inadvertently donated his curse onto me.

  Still clutching my arm

  In hopes of somehow spiritually extracting the disease,

  I demanded answers from him.

  He offered no verbal response,

  Only uncontrollable body movements.

  His lack of courtesy was an insult.

  I kicked him down further to the ground.

  I wanted to go back to my cart,

  Retrieve one of my tools

  And unleash my anger on him

  As gratification for what he had done to me.

  I pictured myself stomping on his weak skull,

  Burying him in an unmarked grave in the woods

  So that no one would know my secret.

  My conscious would not allow that of course,

  As I was never a violent man,

  But the latest events would be justification enough.

  Alas, I could not as I still had remorse for him.

  I did not know what to do.

  My mind was not helping me at all.

  My human instinct filled the void and

  Prompted me to reach for the man.

  I heard the faint sound of laughter coming from his mouth,

  Which was half buried in grass.

  He revealed his face slowly and looked up to me.

  He was no longer shaking

  And appeared to have regained energy and health.

  He even pushed himself up on his own free will

  From the ground into a standing position.

  The sight confused me slightly and

  I immediately entered into a state that it was only a dream.

  The idea of a dream was somewhat comforting.

  It was an option that my mind failed to present me with.

  His statue was still not that of a normal human being

  And his height was much shorter than mine.

  Overall his appearance remained small,

  But his skin and face transformed back to normal.

  From the time he rose from the ground

  To his current position, he had gained back the flesh and fat within his face.

  His low laughter continued.

  I witnessed his once blood stained eyes

  Turn a dull shade of white.

  He momentarily looked around the surrounding area

  As if to survey the land.

  The silence broke with my first question

  Asking him who he was.

  Still observing the natural land,

  He responded in a clear tone by saying his name was Mammon.

  I proceeded to ask him about his disease.

  How was it that he was able to seemingly remove it?

  He replied in a stubborn tone that he was capable of many things.

  I asked if he was alive.

  He replied that he was very much alive.

  He had come on a very important task

  Not only to spread the word of an approaching plague,

  But to spread the disease itself.

  My depression set in.

  I hoped that my retrieval of the disease was a part of the charade.

  I folded back my sleeve and noticed

  That the grouping of enlarged blood vessels had

  Spread further up my arm towards my elbow.

  Sensing my sadness with the turn of events,

  Mammon offered me some serenity

  By stating that he was also carrying a cure.

  He informed me that he only had one dosage of the vaccine;

  That it would take several seasons for it to be duplicated.

  From his own words, I could consume it

  And spare my own life

  Or I could give the vial to the village elders

  So that they may work towards duplicating it.

  On one hand I could save myself,

  On the other I could save the village.

  I pondered in my mind a way to have both outcomes.

  Mammon stopped me and said that only one would prevail.

  I could sense him studying my mind,

  Waiting for my response.

  When I offered none,

  He shunned me and grabbed my wrist.

  He pried open my clutched fingers and

  Placed the vial into my palm and closed my hand.

  He offered a smirk and told me to think about it,

  But to not take too much time as the plague

  Had the power to reach a verdict for me.

  His words sent me barreling down a spiral of thoughts,

  Many of which I would have never imagined that I would have.

  From anger to stubbornness,

  From sadness to despair,

  From eagerness to resentment,

  My mind journeyed further away from rational thought.

  Knowing that he had me completely in a state of emotional chaos,

  Mammon granted me one more smile.

  He folded up his hood and stated that he would see me soon.

  In a much better physical form,

  He fled through the rows of trees and vanished from sight.

  He left me behind with so many unanswered questions,

  A vial of vaccine and a burning flesh eating plague

  That was slowly consuming my arm.

  Leaving my tools, cart and gathered logs within the woods,

  I ran back to the village.

  The sun had all but vanished

  As the fog from the mountains rolled in

  And blanketed the trees for the night.

  Coyotes howled as I ran desperately through the barked maze.

  I paid no attention to the predators

  As my mind was focused on a more drastic situation.

  I entered into the radius of the village and

  Made sure that my arm was concealed

  As if anyone discovered my sickness,

  I would surely be banished from my homestead.

  I imagined some of my neighbors would opt

  For a more deadly punishment

  Like buried alive or engulfed in flames.

  I briefly thought about purposely giving those people

  My present and allowing them to suffer with me,

  But my conscious once again stepped in.

  I was not feeling up to my usually happy self

  And gave no friendly gestures

  Towards anyone that I may have passed.

  Straight into my shop I went and

  Shut the door tightly behind me.

  The inside of my abode was relaxing,

  But was quickly overshadowed by the vial I held in my hand.

  My arm was easily hidden from my sight, but

  The vial was a constant reminder

  That the recent events were not a dream.

  I needed to rid myself of the souvenir so

  I placed the vial upon the table and

  Covered it with a nearby goblet.

  Not holding it eased my mind for quite some time

  Until the burning within my arm brought me back to reality.

  I unveiled my arm and saw that the disease had drastically grown.

  In a desperate attempt to
cleanse my limb,

  I scrubbed my skin in a bowl of fresh water.

  I knew of the result, but I had to try.

  A knock on the front door

  Echoed through the inside and

  Startled me as I vigorously rubbed the hairs from my forearm.

  Without venturing towards the door, I asked who it was.

  My neighbor responded that he saw me running and

  Wanted to know if everything was alright.

  I nervously answered that I was just tired from the tasks of the day.

  He luckily accepted my answer and left me alone for the night.

  I needed a restful night sleep

  As I believed it would erase the awful dream I was having.

  I awoke the next morning

  To the playful demeanor of my pet dog

  And a large amount of tongue lashing.

  The gesture soothed me as a new day had begun.

  At that moment everything was in place and orderly in my life.

  I was even confused as to what day it was and

  Whether or not I needed to gather a new wood supply.

  The confusion was a blessing compared to the nightmare I had just experienced.

  I arose from my bed, but realized that I could not lift my arm.

  My eyes were astounded from the sight of my dark bluish skin.

  Numbness extended from my fingertips to my shoulder blade.

  I had complete immobility with the arm and

  Only had slight feeling which allowed me

  To experience the painful pressure being created from within.

  During that moment of realizing that it was not a dream,

  I violently pushed my dog away and

  Wrapped my dead arm in a cloth blanket.

  To go from a high level of happiness

  To the lowest level of concern was devastating on my mind.

  The rapid change in emotion made me sick to my stomach.

  My vision blurred to where I had to sit back down

  Until the chaotic moment subsided.

  To not draw attention to myself,

  I dressed myself in my carpentry clothes,

  But did not risk going outside.

  The idea of not being around people

  During that time was partially satisfying and safe.

  I am not sure whether the gratification

  Came from me hiding my disease or

  That I would not willingly infect others.

  Either way, I was very happy to be away from the commotion.

  I needed to turn my attention away from my arm

  So I decided to focus on my work.

  Half a day wasted in the woods with my new friend

  Proved disastrous on my work schedule and

  My daily tasks were compounding.

  As I proceeded with my chores,

  I thought that ignoring the situation would benefit me.

  I struggled with only having one working arm,

  But managed surprisingly well considering.

  Throughout the day, my accomplishments were adding up,

  How was I going to interact with my customers?

  In preparation, I burrowed a large hole within the front door

  As a means to communicate with my patrons.

  Verbal portions of a conversation

  Were more important than the physical.

  My customers did not need to see me.

  Although skeptical at first, they accepted

  My new procedure and rarely questioned it.

  Occasionally a few of them would succumb

  To their curiosity and try to stare through the hole, but

  Seeing my face on the other side normally appeased them.

  Considering my new ailment,

  I was actually able to manage my work,

  Finishing quite a few orders.

  As I was cleaning, a knock rang out at the front door.

  I announced that I was closed and continued sweeping the floor.

  Another knock sounded and prompted me to the door.

  Peering through customer hole, I saw him.

  Fear instantly consumed me.

  Those pale white eyes staring back at me were unforgettable.

  Mammon had returned.

  The squinting fashion of his eyes leaked displeasure.

  He demanded entry, but I ignored his request.

  I pretended that no one was inside.

  He knocked even louder causing

  My tools hanging from the inner wall to shake.

  I hid behind my work bench and peered around the corner.

  I saw those miserable eyes scanning inside.

  His fingers entered through the hole and

  Grasped the inner portion of the wooden door.

  When he had enough leverage,

  He violently shook the frame to gain entry.

  The rusty hinges held up under the pressure,

  But did loosen slightly.

  After lowering my head during the commotion,

  I rose again to get another glimpse of my visitor,

  But none could be seen.

  I slowly walked towards the door to survey the situation

  And realized that he had indeed left.

  Regaining my sense of dignity, I turned to continue my cleaning,

  But I would not succeed.

  Instead of facing my chores

  I came to face to face with Mammon.

  The close vicinity of him was horrifically sudden.

  It startled me so much that I stumbled backwards.

  He just stood there observing me.

  He had an unpleasant aura to him

  As if he was disgusted by me and my previous actions.

  With his arms crossed, he asked me about my decision.

  I knew he was growing impatient with me.

  He laughed at my lack of response and

  Reminded me that I was running out of time to decide.

  He stated that the plague will not stop;

  That it will devour my soul.

  He also reminded me again of my choices.

  That I could save myself or sacrifice my well-being for the benefit of others.

  My fear tried to avoid the conversation

  And did not allow me to form words,

  But that only enticed my visitor.

  In order to help in my decision making,

  He said that he would speed up the process of the disease.

  No sooner had the words exited his lips

  Did my arm become increasingly heavy with dead weight.

  I could feel the tension spreading to my upper shoulder.

  He smiled at the sight of my increased discomfort.

  He teased me by squatting down in front of me

  As he glanced closely at my arm.

  His eyes moved up my skin

  As if he was guiding the disease closer to my shoulder.

  He went on to sarcastically describe

  How the virus first would clench the blood vessels;

  Suffocate them to the point where they become clogged.

  Forcing the arm to become numb.

  He continued by saying that the blood

  Would have nowhere to flow.

  It will become enraged at its captor.

  The trapped substance would act

  As a thirst quencher for the virus and

  Provide it with the necessary energy

  It requires in order for it to progress to the next area.

  Fingertips will be the first area to feel the pressure.

  Followed closely by the frigid bone decay of the wrist.

  He leaned back from me and

  Announced how proud he was of his creation and that

  He looked forward to my answer.

  As he exited my shop, he left behind the fact

  That he would see me again soon.

  With no time to contemplate his words

  My arm was becoming
progressively more painful.

  It was rendered useless and had fallen to the disease.

  In a state of panic, I came to the conclusion

  I needed to stop the virus from spreading to my chest.

  The decision was not difficult to make

  Especially when I looked to my arm

  And saw the blackened pulsating skin.

  The disease had mutated from killing the blood

  To consuming the decayed flesh.

  Open sores and blisters appeared

  To tear across my skin

  In order to join one another and forge larger openings.

  At this point I could no longer move my fingers, wrist or arm.

  The only movement left was in my shoulder

  As I could barely rotate it forcing the dead arm to sway slightly.

  I had no time to spare.

  The arm needed to come off.

  I lifted the lifeless limb and

  Slammed it on my work bench in between two braces

  Used on a daily basis to cut wooden planks.

  With my good hand, I twisted the metal brackets

  In order to confine my arm.

  The pressure was not as much as I would have liked,

  But substantial considering the situation.

  With a log blade in hand,

  I measured out just enough space

  Between the decayed flesh

  And the healthy area

  To make sure to completely remove the disease from my body.

  All that was left was to commit to the task at hand,

  But it was easier said than done.

  The chore I was about to complete was irreversible.

  My mind halted me because of that.

  I sat there with my arm

  Held to a work bench

  And a saw in the other.

  The situation alone would drain the sanity of any man,

  But alas there I was.

  As my neighbors slept soundly in their beds

  With no concern in the world,

  I was about to dissect myself.

  I closed my eyes and

  Placed a wooden peg in my mouth.

  With a downward motion, I

  Allowed the teeth of the blade

  To tear deep into my flesh.

  The pain was unbearable at first,

  But soon reduced at the thought of possibly

 

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