Although I did ponder sharing my story
If we had not ceased the nightly ritual.
I wondered what they would think of me
If I had told them that I had beaten the plague.
Would they have seen me as a hero?
Would they hold a feast in my name or even worship me?
It was tempting, but the time was not appropriate.
Some residents thought I had lost my sanity.
I understood why they would think that as
I had built a huge wall that blocked the beautiful horizon
To fend off a fictitious approaching plague.
I knew it was coming though,
I knew that Mammon would be the one escorting it.
Peace fell within the village as
Travelers were turned away from a safe distance.
We did not allow visitors or anyone who was not like us
Within the inner vicinity of the wall.
We forced hungry travelers
To continue on their way and bypass our village.
The idea was brutal in its intentions
As most of them would not make it to the next town.
The once healthy resources of our village
That were offered to starving travelers were no longer gifted.
Groups after groups were denied free passage through the gates,
Which often times resulted in riots and violence,
It came to the point that residents were cautious
To exit the gate as they were afraid
That they would be denied reentry.
I saw firsthand several attempts
By plague-ridden peasants to scale the wall.
They were met with brutal hatred
And thrown rocks that persuaded them otherwise.
Due to my history, I was able to spot those who were infected.
Most tried to conceal a certain limb
Or completely cover themselves,
But they were not fooling me.
Even in the crowds outside,
The plague infested ones were not wanted.
They were beaten severely if anyone found out.
Some non-infected people were even punished
Merely because another traveler accused them.
We turned away those begging for food and water,
Even half-starved children.
We wanted no one who was not already within the wall.
The task to keep people out was a daunting one.
Each of the villagers had a common cause so
We equally shared the burden through night watches.
We had to deny access to all who would threaten our lifestyles.
We gave them no pity or remorse.
The travelers sought out charity,
We denied them of their request.
We became a selfish stronghold in a plague infested world and
We thought nothing wrong about it.
With Mammon gone, everything was at peace within my life.
I had given him his answer and not only saved myself,
But saved the village as well.
The pay for erecting such a mighty wall
Had made me wealthy and content.
Orders were exceeding my expectations as
People required reinforced lumber to increase the security of their cottages
As if the plague would not penetrate hardened wood.
As with every day, I arose to the loving touch of my dog.
When prepping the shop for my daily chores,
I was greeted by my neighbor.
He appeared distraught and after further questioning,
It was revealed that my dog had bitten him.
Apparently, he was tending to his garden late at night
When my dog became estranged.
He was not worried about it as it was just a scratch and
He blamed the shadows of night as the reason for the confusion.
His concern did grow a little as he showed me his wound.
I looked to his arm and my chest began to tighten.
It was as if Mammon himself was standing on it again.
There was a small scratch that was surrounded by the blackened blood vessels
I had known so well.
My immediate reaction was to strike my neighbor dead.
My rational thought prompted me otherwise.
I asked who he was in contact with.
He replied that he did nothing unusual
That he greeted everyone as he did each day.
My throat immediately became dry,
I tried desperately to swallow.
I called for my dog and noticed that his eyes were blood red.
He snarled at me as I reached down to touch him.
My neighbor was concerned and kept asking me questions, but
My attention was directly upon my dog.
He had been infected all along.
Each day that I struggled with the curse of what to do,
My choice had already been established.
I had made the wrong decision.
I should have chosen to duplicate the vaccine.
What had I done?
I witnessed the darkened blood vessels creep up his neck.
He grasped his chest as his wandering eyes searched
For some sort of rational reasons why it was occurring.
He would never retrieve those answers
As he soon fell lifeless to the ground.
I walked out the front door and
Gazed upon the village courtyard
That was littered with decaying bodies.
I had single-handily murdered everyone within our village.
Those still alive tried eagerly to scale the wall,
But the height was too much for them to handle.
The village became their grave;
The wall served as their tombstone.
Within a matter of moments I was the only one standing
Within my beautifully constructed wooden perimeter.
I did not feel remorse,
As I watched my fellow neighbors slump to their death.
It was almost soothing to not have to fear the plague anymore.
I offered no pity even as my dog collapsed.
I was alive and healthy amongst a sea of contamination.
I had what no others had and I was not about to offer it as charity.
Loud pounding on the front gate
Rang out through the barren courtyard.
Even at that moment, travelers wanted in;
They sought salvation.
I walked over to the gate and unlatched it.
People flowed in like a newly formed river.
They clung to me with their blackened fingers and hands.
They begged for help, but I could offer them none
Nor did I want to.
I looked upon them as mindless animals
And treated them like cattle as I herded them inside.
I had spared myself
That shameless period before death and
I was disgusted to be around them.
I wanted to speed up the process of the plague
Just to rid myself of their babbling moaning and agony.
I climbed atop the gate and watched as miles of infested
Travelers funneled through my wall.
At that moment I realized the purpose of my construction.
It was not meant to keep the plague out,
Rather to serve as a place to house the dead.
With everyone lifeless or on the verge of dying,
My carpentry business obviously decreased.
To fend off the insanity that was brewing within me
From being the only living person,
I began to construct coffins for the dead.
I would randomly select a dead corpse from the courtyard and
Search through their belongings.
If they h
ad any kind of money or relics on them
Then they would pay me for a coffin.
I referred to them as the rich dead and
Their bodies were placed within a special pile near my shop.
Those with no money or valuable belongings
Were considered the poor dead and were
Thrown within a wide deep trench that I created.
If I was approached by an infested living person
Who begged me for help,
I had them first empty their pockets.
They would then be led to the appropriate pile
Depending upon what they revealed.
I had no personal connection with anyone;
I considered myself alone on a dead island.
However, my burial services proved profitable.
I had to eventually construct a shed to house all of the
Belongings that I was receiving.
To avoid utter isolation, I propped up a few corpses
Around the entrance of the village
To serve as my welcoming committee.
I only used the freshest looking bodies as
I did not want to scare off my visitors.
Due to the decaying method of the human body,
I had to change out the committee on a regular basis.
On one particular day while rotating my unpaid staff,
I noticed Mammon waiting in line to enter.
The vision of him struck me like a heavy mallet to the head.
How could one person cause so much fear in me?
I decided to withhold my emotions and waved to him.
I greeted him and told him that he did not have to wait in line.
We walked together into the courtyard with a bitter silence.
Part of me was afraid that he was here with another question,
But I tried not to think about that as he surveyed the two piles.
While looking into my pit of poor corpses,
He told me that he had forgotten to inform me
About a small part of the question.
My heart began to beat extraordinarily fast.
My vision began to blur once again.
My brow instantly started to collect sweat beads as
He went on to say that he had forgotten to tell me
That the vial of vaccine was only temporary.
He said that the elders who were to receive the vial
Were also going to add the finishing touches to it,
Most importantly the longevity.
I tried to swallow, but no saliva had built up within my mouth.
I saw myself in Mammon for the first time.
He looked upon me as I did my infected visitors
With no remorse or pity.
With the words he offered me,
He also brought me the gift of death.
I was not saddened by his visit nor did I dwell in his words.
He gestured me one last smirk and
Said that he would see me again.
He added that he was proud of my choice.
He leaped in my death trench and
Vanished amongst the tangled corpses.
As I stood on the threshold of the pit,
The line of visitors continued flowing through the village gates.
I decided to build one last coffin
With the most prized pieces of wood.
I deemed none of the previous dead
To be worthy enough of that quality.
As I felt my chest tightening under the pressure of the disease,
I lifted my coffin and carried it well away
From the pit to the inside of my shop.
I walked passed my pile of riches
That I had been collecting from the dead,
I emptied my pockets of any coins and relics
And paid for my own coffin.
I moved my work bench and placed the coffin in its place.
My legs began to slump and become weightless.
I felt my ankles breaking as the disease hollowed out my bones.
Leaning over the edge of the coffin, I managed to fall in.
As I laid there on my back awaiting death,
I pondered what my life would have been like
If I had made the other choice.
~
Why must you deny me access
To my previous transcriptions?
Why am I not allowed to understand what I am writing?
Am I not doing what you have asked me to do?
I am so alone with my thoughts that
The ability to read my own words would be a blessing.
I require more interaction as
The solitary confinement within this cave
Is deteriorating my mind.
I demand more than just this quill and paper.
I demand more than shadowy figures
That do nothing more than lurk in the dark.
I demand...
~
I...I apologize for my previous thoughts and words.
I will never demand anything again.
I am grateful for what you have given me.
I graciously accept the quest you have offered.
I will do whatever you wish.
I beg you to keep the shadows confined to the walls.
I will never ask for anything again.
My intentions are neither to anger you
Nor betray you in anyway.
I have come to the realization
That I will not know what I have previously transcribed.
The knowledge of that is a relief.
From the numbers of my shadowy friends,
I see that two are missing now.
I view this positively,
However I am very concerned
With reaching the point where none are left.
Does that mean I have finished my task
And can go back to my farm?
Surely once I fulfill the needs of God,
He would allow my exit from this cave.
I can only pray that my past memories
Would be restored within my mind.
How wonderful that would be?
To be able to interact with other people
Would also be a pleasant gift.
The inability to hear any words
Not coming from my mind is wearing on me.
I can only talk to myself for so long
Before I find myself annoying.
I dread the fact that I am viewing my inner thoughts as an enemy.
I know this sounds strange,
But I often hear my thoughts
And wish they were no longer there.
I would imagine that complete silence
Would not be any better, but I sometimes hope
That my rapid thought patterns would decrease.
I find that I am starting to argue with myself
Which is undoubtedly gratifying to my shadowy friends,
But only provides me with pressure that is uncontrollable.
It is probably for the best that I do not know my own name.
I would only use it to tell myself to be quiet.
IV
slOTH
I woke to the sound of thunder,
Which was a blessing as there was much
Unfinished work to be done on the farm.
Storms were abundant that time of year,
The rain was much desired from the
Dry spell the previous season brought.
The output of my wheat had reached its peak.
Even had me plowing new fields
To fulfill the demands of the nearby cities,
Which was gradually increasing.
I had always handled all operations of my farm by myself.
Labor during the days was long and tiring,
But my effort was precise and stringent.
My work ethic alone was the basis
For overshadowing my compet
itors.
Several new farms were erected over the years,
I countered them by increasing my output and service.
For many years, I had been the sole supplier of wheat.
My product was unmatched by any competitor.
With the construction of new villages and towns,
Demand for wheat grew to the point where my fields doubled.
My passion for work allowed me to fulfill the demands
Although the increased production
Provided me with much fatigue.
I soon became accustomed to the change in my sleep pattern
And even found it refreshing.
I believed that if I worked while my rivals slept,
My farm would remain successful.
Less time sleeping translated into more time working.
One aspect that I did not anticipate
Was the large variety of usage for wheat.
As the villages grew in size,
Different influences spread across the region,
People began to experiment and create new recipes involving the product.
New ideas mixed with trade specialties
Forced the consumption of wheat to increase dramatically.
For the first time since running the farm,
I was falling behind in my output and
Demand for my product intensified greatly.
I worried that if I did not meet the orders
More competitors would arise.
New competition would not be a welcomed sight for me.
I viewed my inability to meet demand as a weakness and
I was determined to do whatever in my power to stay ahead of my rivals.
I came to the understanding that I could no longer handle the farm by myself.
As much as the notion of acquiring help disgusted me,
It became apparent in the quality of my product.
In order to meet the daily requirements,
I had to concentrate more on the quantity than the quality.
That was against everything that I stood for.
I needed to swallow my pride so that my output would not suffer.
Finding an assistant would prove to be difficult.
The Sinner Page 8
