Becoming a lifeless mass of diseased flesh.
The skin and muscle proved easy to cut.
They gave no resistance to the sharpened blade.
I took a brief moment to allow
The blood to flow from my arm.
I saw the lower portion decrease in size
As the life fluid eagerly escaped from its diseased prison.
I used a rag to wipe the blood
To reveal the alignment of my cut.
The amount of blood was extraordinary
And easily concealed my previous work.
I found myself squeezing my arm,
Manually siphoning the blood to speed along the process.
I even lowered my body so that my arm
Would be at the highest level thus forcing it to drain.
The floor surrounding the work bench was coated with blood.
A large amount of saw dust combined with the blood
Formed a red sticky paste that plastered to the floor like mud.
Satisfied that the blood flow had decreased,
I raised myself back up and
Gripped the saw again.
My once swelled arm was nothing more than skin and bone.
The disease made sure that no ounce of flesh remained.
With my next downward thrust,
The blade hit the opposition of bone.
The friction sent vibrations throughout my upper chest.
Every slice of the blade forced my shoulder back and forth
Along with the motion,
Which made it difficult to gain a clean cut.
I tried to be fluid and precise, but my blade work was anything but.
I dragged the teeth slowly with a tearing motion
To avoid the blade getting stuck in the hardened material.
The conquest of removing my arm overshadowed any pain
I experienced and altered into a challenge of sorts.
Not once did I come to the realization
That I was losing an arm,
But rather focused on regaining control over my life.
No doubt that my method of dealing with the disease
Would anger Mammon and deny him of his answer,
But at that exact moment I did not care about his reaction.
Another thrust of the blade
Burrowed the teeth deep within my bone.
Half way through the brilliant white substance,
I took a moment to retighten the loosening braces
As the blood was allowing my arm to loosen.
I grabbed a smaller carving blade
So that I could expose more of the bone.
With quick motions,
I removed chunks of my shoulder flesh and
Wiped away the excess blood to reveal the pearly hue of bone.
Satisfied with my carvings,
I switched back to the larger blade
And sawed through the remainder portion of bone.
A sigh entered upon my face
As the last splinter gave way to the blade.
The flesh and skin on the other side
Proved to be just as easy as its counterpart and
Took only a few slices to separate.
With my arm completely alienated from my body
And held to the bench by the braces,
I dropped the saw and sat down into a chair.
I had become accustomed to the pain.
The excitement that flowed through me
As I looked to my diseased ridden arm was astonishing.
Knowing that the cursed plague
No longer threatened my livelihood
Was overwhelming as if I had single handily defeated the beast.
I did not care that I only had one arm.
That blackened limb on the work bench
Stopped being my arm a long time ago.
I was happy to be rid of it.
I was proud that I did it myself.
To stop the bleeding from my shoulder,
I heated the saw blade and singed the open wound.
That demonstrated to be more painful
Than the actual act of sawing off ones arm,
But necessary nonetheless.
A blackened crust formed over my wound.
I placed the dead arm within the fireplace and
Happily watched as the skin became engulfed in flames.
The rotted carcass was no match for the intensity of the heat.
It soon disappeared leaving behind my skeletal remains as evidence of my ghastly chore.
The smell of burning flesh filled my shop and was intoxicating.
Freedom from the disease subdued any lasting pain,
But the thought of Mammon’s return drew up some freshly brewed fear.
I did not allow for the anticipation of our next encounter
To dampen my excitement of my new life.
Instead I cleansed my tools, swabbed the work bench
Shoveled up most of the red paste on the ground and retired for the night.
I was awoken by my dog much like the previous day
With random acts of tongue kindness.
For a brief moment I had thought
That my gruesome task was once again a dream,
But I quickly came back to reality
As my blanket had bonded with my wound and
The faint aroma of my cooked flesh still lingered.
The cloth fibers absorbed with the oozing wound
And had dried under the newly formed hardened skin.
I pulled at the blanket, but the skin was no match for the tightly wound fibers.
With each tug, the skin pulled from my shoulder reopening any healing that occurred.
I took a deep breath and gave a violent pull.
The blanket freed itself and seized a large portion of my skin.
The pain was moderate as I had obviously experienced worse.
While making a pot of tea, a knock sounded from the front door.
My immediate reaction was to hide behind my work bench.
Was it Mammon or just simply a customer?
I was not prepared to open the door for anyone
As my missing arm would conjure up questions and concerns.
I decided to wait in hopes that my visitor would go away.
I felt safe enough to move about my shop,
However the calmness would not last as
I got struck from behind with an unforgiving object.
The force sent me tumbling forward into my work bench.
I held my head and turned over to see
Mammon standing near me clutching my skeletal arm.
Without haste, he twisted my old hand and pried it from the wrist.
He held up the bone and swung it downward at me again.
I managed to shift up my lone arm to protect myself,
But the force was too much.
The contact between the two bones sent chills up my arm.
He continued to swing two more times,
Each more devastating than the last
Until I could hold up my arm no more.
Seeing that I could no longer defend myself,
He lowered his weapon of bone and began to laugh.
Mammon tossed aside my skeletal arm and crawled upon my chest.
He was so close to my face that I could smell his pungent breath;
I could feel his excess saliva spewing from his mouth.
He was angry with me
As if my avoiding his original gift was wasting his time.
As I laid there bleeding and in pain,
He just stood on my chest like a gargoyle atop a steeple.
I could sense that he wanted to physically destroy me, but
Something held him back.
He needed something from me,
He needed my choice.
I was empowered for a brief moment,
Although my body did not reflect that.
My mind was finally clear
Of all of the fearful thoughts that had clouded my judgment.
I did not need to fear him anymore.
I showed my new found faith by offering my friend a grin.
That appeared to calm his anger and resentment towards me.
He leaped back off of my chest
Allowing me to finally take a much needed deep breath.
I wanted to rub my newly wounded arm
But that was physically impossible now.
My visitor sat down at my work bench and merely stared at me.
I could tell that he was conjuring up a new plan
In order for me to fulfill his demands.
He lifted up the goblet that was concealing the vial and smiled.
He informed me once again of my task and
Insured me that the removal of my arm would not alter my fate.
I did not believe him as I knew that I had
Strategically removed the threat of the plague from my body.
I knew I had allowed enough of a distance
Between the decayed and healthy flesh when deciding on where to cut.
His words meant nothing to me and
My new outlook revealed itself through my mannerisms.
I became rude and arrogant to him,
Which was uncharacteristic of me.
I wanted him out of my shop and out of my life.
He had already taken so much from me,
I was not going to give him anymore so I asked him to leave.
My words angered him to the point
That I believe I saw him change the shape of his body.
The metamorphosis occurred so fast
That I could not be sure as to what I saw.
His human stature violently twisted and
Became entangled into a grotesque demon-like formation
That instantly shunned me with fear.
The vision was so demoralizing on my mind that
I immediately broke into a cold sweat.
Any such self-power that I had gathered
Up to that point had vanished.
My mind burrowed back down
Into the realm of self-pity and cowardliness.
During that time, he was mumbling in tongues.
I could not translate his words.
His body reshaped back into his previous state,
But his eyes remained an evil shade of red.
I knew at that moment that I was a fool to try to conquer him.
I was about to receive my punishment.
He leaped back upon my chest
With a force that broke some of my ribs.
He wasted no time with unveiling his new plan.
From underneath his cloak he pulled out a small dagger.
He held up his arm and cut through his wrist
To release a bright murky liquid that seeped from his flesh and coated the blade.
With a smirk, he glanced at the dagger then at me.
Part of me wanted him to shove the blade
Deep within my skull so that my life would be ended.
My body wanted to die, but my mind begged him for mercy.
He plunged the knife within my upper chest,
Not in an area that would lead to my demise,
Rather a pinpointed area to infect my body once again.He leaned hard on the dagger as if to make a personal point
That I should meet his demands.
His point was well received that time.
My body was in shambles;
My mind was deteriorating at a quick pace.
He stood from me and placed the vial upon my chest.
As he walked away, he offered me his signature last words
That he would see me soon.
As I laid there broken and bruised,
I quickly realized that the visits with my friend
Never end well for me.
Throughout the day, customers would come to the door
Inquire about orders and such.
I did not respond to them.
None of my old life mattered,
None of my customers mattered.
All of that was useless to me now.
My friends, my neighbors, my material items,
Were all rendered pointless.
My only salvation was that vial of vaccine.
That was the only relic of potential peace in my life.
The other villagers did not care about me;
They were only concerned with their orders or repairs.
They saw me as a means to their greater good,
As a stepping stone to benefit them.
I laid there half dead and for what?
To salvage their existence; to save their livelihood.
Within me was the monster, a beast like no other and
I was the gatekeeper for it.
That small vial that rested upon my chest was the key to all of it.
The dagger burned deep within my flesh.
I could feel the newly added disease spreading,
Contracting my muscles.
My lungs weakened and gasped for air.
Mammon was right;
The disease would suffocate me into making a decision.
I could feel it creeping up my neck and squeezing my throat.
My mind was racing through possible scenarios;
Outcomes to benefit both parties at hand.
However, the greed was strong in me
When faced with my own demise.
At that point, my mind was the only
Working organism left in my body.
It was trying desperately to create a solution
In order to save the shell in which it resided in.
It portrayed an idea that seemed reasonable at the time.
When unchallenged it would ultimately win.
I would consume the vial and
With my new found life,
I would erect a large wall around the village
To protect everyone from the approaching plague.
The plan was perfect and gave me such inspiration
That it must have been the answer.
With enough strength,
I managed to move the vial up to my mouth and
Used my teeth to pry open the lid.
The liquid tasted like nectar of a ripened fruit.
It was so pleasant going down my ravaged throat
That I did not want it to end.
With my internal organs in such a weak state,
I could actually feel the struggle taken place
Between the vaccine and the virus.
I could feel my lungs filling with air;
My heart funneling the blood.
The relief of making a choice was overwhelming,
So much so that I blacked out and fell asleep.
Next day brought about bright
Sunshine through the hallowed out hole in the door.
Again my dog served as my wake master.
I subconsciously petted him and realized that I had two arms.
The sight and feeling was a blessing to behold
And much appreciated.
I believed that I had returned to my former self
As the result of meeting the demands of Mammon.
I was completely healthy again
With no physical signs of broken bones or scars
From my previous encounters.
Even my shop was clean with no trace of blood.
My reaction was that I should have consumed the vial earlier.
I would have avoided the large amount of pain.
Regardless, my attitude was renewed and
Restructured with wonderful thoughts of encouragement.
I opened the front door of my shop
For the first time in days and looked around the village.
I was still holding on to the thought
That none of the other people mattered to me,
But at the same time,
I needed them for my own livelihood.
I required their business to better my life.
Call it selfishness, but they owed me
For the pain and suffering I went through.
Regardless of what I thought about them individually,
They were worth more to me collectively as a group.
To preserve them, I would keep to my word
I had given myself regarding the perimeter wall.
I began to construct the barrier within my mind;
Envisioned how much wood it would require.
I soon started construction of a project
That would enclose the village and safeguard the residents
From outside travelers that may be carrying the plague.
The village was easily convinced
As I increased the severity of the tales told by the gypsies.
Fear did a wonderful thing
When it came down to acquiring volunteers.
Days went by with no visit from Mammon,
Which allowed me to fully focus on my task.
With the wall completely surrounding the village,
A main gate was the last piece of the puzzle.
The structure was even more beautiful than I had imagined.
I had designed the perimeter with extra height
To deter travelers from scaling it to gain entrance.
A local blacksmith forged the massive gate
That proved to be the most pivotal aspect of the construction.
From the characteristics of the structure,
One would think that we were defending ourselves
Against a vast army of barbarians.
Some said it was too much,
In my mind it was necessary
As I had experienced the pain and torture
That the plague could unleash.
I offered the naysayers no response to their claims
As the wall was already built.
The village was indebted to me
As they should have been.
My selfish act would be their salvation.
My selfish encounter would ultimately spare their lives.
I never mentioned my near death experience to anyone,
The Sinner Page 7
