The Pallbearer: Harvests Part 6

Holiday Greetings From Point Heston

Nothing stinks like chicken shit on butchering day.

Nikolas asked if I had ever been to a slaughterhouse. Two years in a row, I was at my cousin's farm when they killed their chickens. Squawking, squeaking, shitting, feathers flapping. They had me picking pinfeathers after the heads were cut off. The first year, I gagged up my breakfast fifteen minutes in.

And it made it smell better.

The Pallbearer: Harvests Part 5

Grand Guignol

Never close your eyes. The first and foremost rule of attending a performance as grand as ours.

Never close your eyes. There's murder in ours. You can see it if you look.

Never close your eyes. I'll close them for you before I tuck you in.

The tunnel only last another hundred yards and four dozen popcorn corpses. I think four dozen. Was hard to tell after we passed by. Erin and Natalie perched on Beast's new body, hacking and rewiring. The children marched in silence. Gremlin's voice was back in their minds, whispering soft lullabies in their ears.

The Pallbearer: Harvests 4.5

Pruning

"Misser Beast, are we gonna die?"
"Are you scared of death little one?"
"Uh-huh. I... I fink I killed somebody before. I didn't mean to."
"It's alright. I have too. But I meant to and that's worse."
"Who did you kill?"
"Lots of people. But a long time ago, I killed my brother. He.. he betrayed our friends. He betrayed me. I just wanted to stop him. To find out why. But..."
"Iss okay Misser Beast. I know. But.. you never answered me."


"Da. I know."

The Pallbearer: Harvests Part 4

 False Idols

Somewhere, Cassie was safe in an apartment building hiding as best she could.
Somewhere, Cassie was crying over a life lost and a marraige never to come.
Somewhere, Cassie was.

But it wasn't where I was.

And I meant to rectify that.

The Pallbearer: Harvests Part 3.5

Sheba

Violence is fun.
Creating is ecstasy, teaching a joy.

But violence is fun.

I've always tried to hold myself back, to keep the bile from rising in the back of my throat, to keep myself from separating heads from shoulders with a single sweep.

fourty whacks
fourty whacks

The Pallbearer: Harvests Part 3

Wants And Needs

My body craved a hot bowl of three-day old coffee as black as tar and twice as thick.

Castor and Pollux lumbered forward, the mark of the Commandant glowing on their chests. A rectangle with seven short lines thrusting up from its lid.

"They exist for one purpose Erin. They exist to bring pain unto those who would oppose The Black Symphony. You understand."

"I understand that you're leaving me in the custody of this lunatic. Norman, he killed Alex."

"Inescapable casualties. We have to hold the wall."

The Pallbearer: Harvests Part 2

Threshing

When I still worked the wall, I was promoted to Supervisor for four hours and thirteen minutes. After pouring together the blood of four dozen Sleepers and twenty-three of my own men, they demoted me.

I didn't kill them. They just couldn't keep up.

That's why St. George blew apart the ceiling above Conduit.

That's why St. George blew apart the ceiling above my head.

That's why I was alone and walled in with my executioner.

The Pallbearer: Harvests Part 1

The Harvesters

Staring down the mouth of that tunnel with seven tanks, a mad cat, a praying mantis, and a horde of Blind Children behind me, I single thought came to mind.

What the fuck am I doing?

"Beast, please remove the guards at the front door."

"It would be my pleasure. Gentlemen, on my mark."

Six voices answered him. Six voices that were all his own.

"Fire."