Dig Two Graves

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There is some swearing and violence in this content so please be advised!

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The intention of this story was part of Camp NaNoWriMo. I aimed to get 1500 words which I believe this is just over. I tried to implement the 5 key points of a story such as Hook, and Climax etc and encapsulate it in one scene. I want to try and master the scene and work on short stories before tackling and big projects again.

Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

The knife in my hand trembled as I stared at the man I had hunted down for years, I thought it would be easy when the time came. If he were still the criminal it would be but a monk? His mouth moved but I heard nothing, he stared me in the face and smiled. I felt my stomach fall and tighten in unison. I wanted to be sick. My mouth went dry. My palms and brow began to sweat.

The monk turned to the statue I had been prostrate in front of moments ago before he came over to speak to me. I kept my gaze fixed on him, I watched his throat bob up and down as he spoke. The only thing I could think of was how much I wanted to plunge the knife into the soft spot below his Adam’s apple. I couldn’t not yet. Was he a changed man or not?

I had to know.

Before Brother Albun went to the monastery this evening I remembered his story. He himself had killed but since the church had taken him in he had changed the lives of hundreds. I shook my head. Snapped my self out of the trance. No. Brother Albun spoke of manslaughter, it was an accident, but Gavin Hun was a stone cold killer. I’ll kill him for what he had done.

Gavin’s head craned down and he looked at me again. This time I heard his words. ‘Praying for forgiveness and redemption I presume?’

I looked up at the statue of Hera, the Goddess of Forgiveness and Redemption, she was a beautiful woman. ‘Yes.’ Was all I could muster.

Gavin smiled. ‘Then follow me.’

I watched him walk toward the confession booth where I would make him confess what he had done. Make him admit to being the monster he was. I never understood religion. How could someone like Gavin do what he had done then seek forgiveness and redemption? But he had and the church had taken him in. I took a step but froze. I turned my head to catch a glimpse of Hera. How hypocritical of me. I had been praying for forgiveness and redemption for what I was about to do: to kill a holy man, a monk. No. I remembered what he was.

I strode toward to booth where Gavin clambered in and shut the door. I reached the booth and placed my hand on the handle. My palm almost slipped off of the metal as I pushed down. Was I that nervous? I tightened my grip. The smell of wood and dust and mold raped my sense of smell. I pushed down the handle and the door creaked open.

The smell intensified as I closed the door behind me. It was dark and ominous save for the candlelight that flickered through the tiny holes in the door. I watched them. They danced like the fire dancers did in the moonlight on the night of the spring festival. The festival of life, the night my whole life changed.

I heard him breathe on the other side of the booth. The bastard.

‘Speak my child.’ Came his voice. That horrible horrible voice. I tried to muster some words, some form of noise but nothing came out. ‘Take your time. I know it must be hard.’

‘It is.’ I said. His voice made me tremble. I remembered it as it was on that night. ‘Ten years ago in Carrahan on the night of the spring festival,’ I swallowed hard. ‘I broke into a home. It was lovely, the house was neat, tidy and seemed filled with love. I heard a noise in the bedroom and stormed into the room. There I saw a man and a woman getting ready for the festival. Without hesitation, I strode over to them. I sank my blade into the man’s stomach, again and again, I watched his face as he saw the terror in his wife’s eyes. Then I turned to her and punched her in the jaw. She fell on the bed and I pounced on her. I drove my blade into her throat and stabbed her over and over.’ There was silence. ‘Do you remember them?’

Another silent moment. ‘No. I-I’m sorry.’ Sorry. After all this time sorry was all he could say. Could I forgive him for what he had done?
I remembered the night Gavin broke in. The moment he killed my parents. I had dropped to the floor and hid under the bed. My father’s face smacked the floor and his blood leaked toward me, touched my face. Then the screams of my mother horrified me. I heard her gargled cries for mercy. That’s when I felt the blood seep through the mattress where Gavin had stabbed her body over and over. The blade came through inches from me. I could taste the iron, smell its metallic tang, felt it cling to my hair and prepubescent skin. That nightmare woke me every night for ten years.

Forgiveness.

‘I forgive you for what you have done Gavin,’ we both sat in silence. I heard him whimper. ‘But I do not forgive you for forgetting them. Their names were Garret, and Melina Harrancourt.’
A beast inside me raged. I pounced. With the knife in my hand, I broke through the thin slats that separated us. I felt our bodies collide. We struggled amidst the chaos of the dark cramped space. We rolled and broke through the door of the confession booth out onto the cold stone floor.

That’s when I felt the punch of the knife against flesh. The resistance lessened as it sank in.

I was on my knees like a helpless child before a god. The nightmare replayed in my mind. Gavin stood before me, his robes covered in blood. His stature made me cower for a moment. Then I saw his face, it said it all. His mouth was agape and his eyes wide with shock. I saw them flicker from mine then down and up. I realised there was no knife in Gavin.

I looked down and saw the handle all the way into my stomach. I felt the warm blood ooze over my frozen fingers. I hear it slap against the cold stone floor in the uncanny silence of the church.

I looked up at Gavin and he stared at me. His face changed from shock to anger.

I stood, stumbled.

‘You bastard,’ he said. ‘You’ve ruined everything. I am forgiven, redeemed, in the eyes of Hera. I was to have not killed again but you, you had to bring that monster out.’ Gavin took a step closer to me. He took my hand and pulled out the knife. He sank it back in my torso over and over. I crumbled to my knees. Fell into the puddle of my own blood. Its warmth was a welcome bed in contrast to the cold stone floor.

I had won. He would always be a killer, a monster.

I smiled.

I saw Gavin walk toward the huge church doors and open them. My face lay in my own blood that expanded outward beyond my reach. The cold air blow in and brushed my cheek. The sense of warmth and cold had never been so defined.

I remembered the words of Brother Albun. “If it is revenge you seek then dig two graves, one for yourself.”

I thought of my parents. Their faces, so vivid, flashed before my eyes. I saw them stand in front of me. I reached out to them. Get up I heard them say Get up. I found the strength to crawl towards to doors. They seemed so far away. Before I knew it I was outside in the wicked, wild, wind. I had to make it to the monastery. To Brother Albun.

Every time my eyes shut I was further and further away from death and closer to life as I came closer to the monastery. I wanted to smile as I saw the gates but I couldn’t my only intent was to reach them. I stumbled into the gates with a bang and began to smash my fists against the hard wood as best I could.

No one came.

I slumped down against the gate. I saw my breath escape my lungs in clouds before it dissipated into the night. This was it. My own selfish revenge had gotten me killed. Gavin had gotten away with it again and my parent’s deaths were not avenged. I thought I had won but for what?

My eyes began to close, my sense of touch and taste faded. Where are you Brother Albun? Everything began to quieten but then I heard it. The slow creak of the gates. ‘Sebastian?’

It felt nice to hear a familiar voice, one that had tried to deter me away from my own foolishness. If only I had listened.