Death..

[DoS Archive]

From: bargosmcconahue@aol.com (Bargos McConahue)
Date: 12 Dec 1999 02:41:21 EST

The distance voices were barely audible, the words seemed to echo through his mind. There was no pain, no feeling, he knew he was dying, yet he could not accept it. Not now, not like this. But what could he do? As the days past he struggled to hang on, death was not an option, not an escape. He had to live, he had to correct his errors. Though the brutal truth kept flashing through his mind, what would become of him if he did live. He knew the
flesh would be horrifically scared, which bothered him little, it was the inability to feel that worried him. His neck was swollen, possibly broken. He could not live with that, he could not live as they did, useless, mindless. He was more than they, popularity and mindless bickering were his style, he needed the power, the control.

Weeks passed, and slowly he began to recover, he looked somewhat as he did, before it happened. He had regained feeling, and could walk-sort of. Though he knew he would live. He also knew the day would come when he met that man again, and next time there would be only one survivor. He would be gone for quite some time however, a month, maybe two. Perhaps this was for the better and things would cool off a little. He sure was taking a lot of heat
lately, but mostly from spineless talkers, not killers. In time history will be written......


((leaving town for a while, have a nice X-mas everyone and I will see you early next year most likely ;) ))