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Previously on Listening For That Sweet Tune:
As I began to turn around I immediately
noticed that the room was stripped down in comparison to the other rooms I've
been in. Paint was scraped off the walls. Carpet was removed. All furnishings
were destroyed to reveal a large cement box. There was a small wall that
traveled three quarters through the room that divided the room a fourth verses
the rest of the room being three fourths. Normally—on my side of the wall—there
would be a bathroom but all walls and porcelain fixtures were torn out and
scattered around the floor. From where I was I couldn't see all in the next
room but a shadow being cast from the large window on the opposite side of the
room had a human like image, standing, waiting.
I slowly moved from one step to another
to look around the wall and at the same slow pace that I was traveling I began
to see a man. Black fancy shoes, black fancy pants, a white button down shirt
and a tie that was loosened from the neck along with the top three buttons to
his shirt. As I began to make eye contact with him he began to roll down his
sleeves that were going to cover the thick scratches and cuts that were over
his arms. I took another few steps towards the end of the wall and I saw
another man but he was sitting in a thin flimsy chair. Hands were tied behind
his back and a black bloody bag was over his head. Like the other man, the
second man was also in formal wear but every part of his clothing had tears and
bloodstains on them.
The other man bent down reaching for his
round frame glasses that were sitting on the floor in front of him put them on
pressed his shirt down and ticked it in then looked back at me with his blank
stare. I waited for him to make the first move but he just stood there, now
smiling. Nothing was creepy about his appearance he actually looked really
normal but I knew that something had to be deceiving because it seemed really
evident that he was the man who killed the other man that was sitting in the
room.
'You are?' He asked me.
'Ben. Who are you?' I replied. He looked
around and started to button up his shirt while taking his tie completely off
just to put it back on again. He straightened out his tie and measured the
distance from the bottom of his tie to the beginning of his pants with his
fingers. His 'Who are you?' began to echo through my brain moving from ear to
ear bouncing all around my head. When he was situated he looked back at me and
pushed the man from out of the chair he was sitting in. I heard a scream come
from the man that hit the floor—guess he wasn't dead—the man never broke his
gaze from mine. He walked up behind the man on the floor, picked up the chair
and smashed it along the other mans back. The chair was wooden because it
shattered into several pieces; a leg even passed me and ricochets off the walls
behind me. He bent down and grabbed another leg that had splintered off of the
chair, dropped to his knees and stabbed the other man repeatedly.
I stepped backward in astonishment of
what was happening as he just stared at me while blood splattered all over his
face and glasses without even flinching to what was happening. He got back to
his feet and used a handkerchief in his back pocket to wipe off his face.
Taking off his glasses—for the first time he broke his gaze towards me—he
cleared the blood from off his glasses as well.
'You know who this man was?' He asked
me.
'No, who was he?'
'I found this man to be a hypocrite and a
liar trying to make prophecies for his own benefit. He is the son of a false
prophet and it is my duty to quell this family of treachery and false
teachings.'
'And who are you?' I asked.
'My name is Odious and you, Ben Lamb, are
standing in my realm.' He waved his hand in front of him.
'Not very impressive, I'm sorry to say,'
'Oh, but it is. Come, follow me.' Waving
to me as he headed to the window.
Up next in Listening For That Sweet Tune:
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