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In a sickening fashion the world moved and shifted. It jolted him from one maelstrom of nausea to another in a swirling, turbulent upheaval. The collar around his throat choked off his air, crushed into his windpipe. He was at the Manse. A woman was forcing him to do tricks for her. He looked into her face, pleading, and saw Tina Johanson, then heard another voice. Benny turned.
Hello, Benny
Grandfather Grey leered down at him.
"No . . . no." Benny tried to escape the punishing hatred of this old man and found himself bound by strips of blackened human skin.
Do you love me, Benny?
The cold, calculating face of the embittered old man loomed closer, closer, until Benny could smell the rank, unwashed odor of him.
Do you love me, Benny? No? You will be punished for that, Benny. Yes, you escaped me again. You killed Carl to do it-
"NO."
But I'll have you soon enough. You wait and see, my boy. Murderer. Because of you my son died not once, but twice-
"You killed my father on the Witch's Stone, you old bastard," Benny shouted.
Seeing his lips move a nurse hovered over him. She bent forward and tried to comfort Benny.
Because of you, Benny. And how many others have died because of you. That old fool, your grandfather Waya. He was another one. And your mother, Benny, how she has suffered because of you. Die, Benny. It would be so simple for so many if only you would die. Do it, boy. Help your family. Die. Die before Todd is killed because of you. Die before you kill again . . . .
Die
He roused slowly, fighting the powers that held him.
He groaned and tried to open his eyes. They were glued fast.
A nasal gravel voice with a down east Maine accent whispered, "Hang in there, sonny." Warm water touched his face, moved over his left eye lid.
"Ok? Want to try again?"
So much pain. Where was he?
Benny pulled open his eye and the first thing he saw battle scarred face of that big ugly Warrior. Benny said weakly, "Yo . . . ."
"Shut your face and go back to sleep." Two Swords scowled at Benny and wiped away a few happy tears.
"Please . . . thirst."
"Sure, kid," the voice grated in his ears. This was the second thing he saw. His eye widened in horror. He had died and was being punished in hell forever for his part in the cat-house. Forever and forever he would have to service old crones like this.
"Hey, young fellah." The ancient hag snickered. She glared in a friendly way and with a voice that had more in common with a gravel crusher than anything feminine, she said, "Don't you be no fool, kid. It don't hardly pay to argue with them there angels, y' know." Eyes twinkling and wise, she nodded at Two Swords.
The Down-East Maine accent was startling to Benny who had for the last week only heard the liquid inflection of central North Carolina and before that the slightly harsher but far more normal to his ears sounds of Pennsylvania Dutch and the cities rough voice. The ancient relic glared at Two Swords. He nodded gravely back.
"You can see him?"
The nurse shoved a straw in his mouth and commanded, "Drink."
He didn't dare disobey. Benny managed to sip.
"You doing, kid? You know, you been out for days. Nigh onto a week, y' know."
Fire welled up along his spine. "Tell Lillian." Benny gasped for breath. "Tell her Lester did it. Barstow still loves her. Please," he mumbled, his eye closing in something like sleep. "T . . . tell Lillian . . . for me. Red Horse Inn, in Fayette . . . ."
She nodded again and glared at Two Swords. "Ayep. Fool kid ought to be worm food about now. It be a dammed shame, wrecking a nice bike like that there Uohali. 'Twas but a few thousand of them Night Suns made, y' know." She snorted at Benny and spat a brown stream of tobacco juice at a plastic cup placed strategically on the floor of Benny's room.
Most of it went in.
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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