EVIL GOD
One of my friends read my story 'Resurrection' and explained me how much he liked it. He had always been intimidated by war time stories and asked me to write one. The theme of the story below was provided by him. I really loved it, so I have tried my best to justify his theme through this story. The story goes...
EVIL GOD
“You look scared. Is it your first time?” asked an
impeccably dressed militant as he adjusted his seat to deal with the sudden
jerks that rocked the truck as it rode along the craggy road. The listener only
stared at the crates filled with the 9mm SMGs and Koch MP5s. In a freckled
voice he replied “Yes.” There was nothing to look at but the faces of rude
brutes that reflected the hardships they had gone through.
“Ha! You’re gonna enjoy this chap” the man looked happy
about the statement he made. The only source of light to this dark dungeon was
an old flickering bulb as all three sides of the truck were covered with
greenish-black covers while the fourth side housed the drivers’ compartment with
a small opening in case the driver wanted to communicate, which he never did.
As a reply, he only stared at the militant’s face who even under such
conditions wore black shades. He looked at his friend who looked quite calm.
Eyes shut, earphones probably playing his favourite song and feet covered in
leather shoes that tapped along the music’s beat.
“Liam Turner, eh?” asked the militant as he glanced at the
identity card which hung loose from his neck.
“Yes sir, I am the cameraman” he replied.
“Cameraman.” a long pause followed by, “We fight day and
night, live in oblivion, under the constant fear of death. We never know what step will be our last,
what breath will be our last. Always think of our families, even when we lie
down on the battlefield knowing that one small movement can cost us our life –
and you – you present the coverage like a piece of cake and get awarded for the
best reporter – cameraman – and feel you’ve accomplished something huge.”
Liam didn’t know how to respond, he wanted to run away, but
couldn’t even turn his face away as he sat facing the brute. He could feel the
sweat running down his chest, his heartbeat quickened and redness covered his
face. He moved his lips but words failed to exit his mouth. Right when he
reached the zenith of his tension, the whole group burst into laughter.
“Don’t worry dude, he was just messin’ with you” said
another soldier as he tapped his shoulder. Liam didn’t – couldn’t utter a word.
The truck stopped and a blast of light entered the yet dark place. Liam covered
his eyes and through the spaces between his fingers he looked at the soldier
who pulled down the thick curtain.
“And that’s why I wore shades” said the militant as he
looked straight into Liam’s face before un-boarding the vehicle.
“What a beautiful day!” exclaimed Liam’s friend as he stretched
his arms, yawning, in the open looking at the deserted, corrupt village while a
plastic card with the words “Ken Duncan, Senior Reporter, LPT News.” hung down
his neck right beside his beige shirt’s pocket. A neatly done officer attended
the reporter and after a short discussion escorted him and his cameraman to
their tent.
“Ah, we’re finally here!” said Ken as he threw his backpack
on the bed and asked Liam to relax. He sat on his bed, reclining against his
backpack exuding a cool vibe. He probably realized something and got back up.
“Look Liam” he said looking right into his eyes and
pressing his hands against each other “this is your first time covering a
battle scene, you need to be on your toes. Everything here is deceptive. Don’t
even talk to the military unless it’s an absolute necessity. Never – Never stay
away from me. They say everything is under control, but what do they mean when
they say that? ”. He dropped his eyes down on the floor and looked back up with
a grin “and most importantly, enjoy the ride” he opened his shoes, put his legs
up on the bed and laid down using his bag as a pillow. Liam kept quiet, took
three huge gulps of water from the bottle he took out of the side pocket of the
camera bag and laid down on the bed just as his senior. Time passed silently
and they were called for dinner at around eight.
“It’s too early” said Liam to his keeper.
“Learn the military standards” said Ken as he arranged his
bag. They had their dinner and all along
Liam kept to himself. Ken talked to a few officials.
“I’m tired” said Ken and dropped down on his bed.
‘How can he be tired? He slept throughout the evening’ this
thought left Liam perplexed. He sat on his bed, took out his dark leather cover
diary and started writing – no one knew what. The night felt cold as the two
slept in their sleeping bags, the only thing that kept Liam going was the fact that
it would eventually end. The night passed and on came the morning.
Liam as usual woke up early. Maybe it was the new day,
maybe it was the gentle breeze blowing outside, maybe it was the warmth of the
morning sun; Liam decided to step outside
‘Maybe this is not that bad at all’ he said to himself. He
started clicking pictures trying to capture the moment. While looking through
his camera, he noticed a kid playing with the sand near the building right next
to the one he stood on. He went down and slowly approached the boy. The boy
noticed him, he looked frightened. Liam smiled and tried to create a comforting
ambiance with his gestures.
“Hey, how are you little boy?” he asked as he approached
him. The kid would have run away had Liam not stopped and put up his left hand
portraying that he meant no harm.
“It’s okay, there’s no need to worry” he said trying to
calm him down. The boy barely five with ragged white clothes probably
understood the stranger’s gesture. His feet was bare and all covered in sand.
The building stood between Liam and the rising sun, but the boy bathed in the
sun’s glory. It was like Liam stood in the dark – the shade of the building -
while the boy facing Liam cast his own shadow to his right. Liam smiled and
gradually lifted his camera to take the boy’s picture. He felt astonishing. As
the camera got closer to Liam’s chest, the boy grew pale and put his hands up
out of fear. It was like Liam pointed a gun at him. Maybe it was nothing new
for the boy, maybe it was the boy’s acquired reflex that kept him alive, maybe it
was something taught by his parents – no one knew.
The smile on Liam’s face gradually faded and his face
turned sad. At once he dropped from high happiness to dreadful sorrow. He
realized the intensity of reality. He realized that he was in a delusion. He
looked down in shame and retracted his camera. He looked back up, the boy stood
in the same posture. He decided to reach for the boy and just when he took his
first step, a bullet pierced right through the kid’s skull above his left ear
blowing his brains out. The boy was blown away by the impact and as he landed,
his blood spread all around. Liam caught some blood on his face. He was stoned.
He couldn’t move. Officials came running and gun-fires started raging. The
silence of the serene morning was broken by cries and explosions.
The village wasn’t desolate. It housed people, all too
scared to come out of their houses, because they knew things were not safe, no
matter what the army said. They knew the world they lived in was harsh, cruel
and unprecedented. They lived every single minute of their lives battling the
eccentricities of their evil God, whom they ought to believe and fear. Liam was
still shocked. Some official pulled him back and he dropped flat on the ground.
He was only a breathing carcass now. The camera lay beside him partially
covered by his hand. The lens had popped out and was crushed by soldiers in the
stampede.
P.S: Share my posts if you like them. :)
Comments
Post a Comment