Wednesday, August 8, 2012

The Harbinger by Michael Flanders


I swiped with my ax and chopped the thing in two. Liam wiped away the debris and placed another log on the block, holding it steady for me.
     “Are you ready,” I asked with a grin on my face. “This one’s gonna come fast.”
     Liam looked up at me with his baby blue eyes, returning my smile with a smirk of his own. “Ready!”
     I dropped the blade and Liam quickly threw himself backwards, letting another log feel the wrath of my ax. It was right after this we both heard a voice.
     “Come one, come all! You’re about to witness the greatest show of them all!”
     I picked up Liam and slung him over my shoulders. Even up there he couldn’t tell me who was calling out, so we headed closer to the sound. A few steps later we saw the feint image of a man walking up the dirt road leading into town. He repeated his chant, causing Liam to become excited.
     “Is it the circus, daddy? Can we go?” asked Liam.
     “No, Liam. There’s something off about this. The circus isn’t due for another month’s time,” I told him. “Head back home, I’ll meet you there once I find out what’s going on.”
     The boy took on a look of sadness. “But dad-“ he started.
     “No buts. Get home now.”
     I loved my son to death, yet he looked so pitiful and hopeless when I asked him to do something against his wishes. He bowed his head and slowly shuffled off, making it a point to stir up dirt by dragging his feet.
     “Come one, come all! You’re about to witness the greatest show of them all!”
     I turned my attention back to the chanting. The unknown herald strolled through the streets in his top hat and trench coat, reciting this phrase until a small crowd trailed behind him. Upon first glance he looked almost like a ring master, twirling a cane between his bony fingers and walking with an unmatched bravado. Closer inspection revealed a skeletal man in dirty attire, his hat covered with grime and burns, his coat dingy and tattered.
     Yet people flocked to him, unflinching. They were mesmerized with his presence, his ability to be confident even though his appearance was that of an abused vagrant. He rallied more and more of my fellow neighbors with every stride, none of them seeming to care about following this odd stranger. And even now I must admit curiosity got the better of me, for I fell into the crowd. Yes, I became one of the sheep being led by the shepherd, or perhaps it’s better to say I was one of the cattle being led to the butcher… We all stopped in the center of town.
     “Thank you all for joining me on such a glorious day,” said the top-hatted man. “I have much to tell you and much more to show you if timing permits. That’s the funny thing about time though, we always take it for granted, assuming we have as much as we need and it’ll never run out.”
     People in the crowd started to chatter amongst themselves, and then the arousal of suspicion came. “Where’s the rest of your circus folk?”, “Is there a bearded lady?”, “If it’s a cure-all you’re sellin’, I ain’t buyin’!” How naïve we all were.
     The man danced around the statue built as a landmarker for the town’s founding father, twirling about as if light as a feather. He was carefree, he was high-spirited, yet he remained enigmatic. His hat hid his eyes from us all, and a man’s eyes defined him. How could we tell, how could I tell what his true intentions were?
     “Now, now my friends. This gathering is nothing of that sort. It’s more just a test of time against your will. That being said, I’m a fair creature. How does one hour sound?” the man asked while finally standing still on the base of the statue.
     More suspicion came from the crowd. The chatter turned almost frenzied with the level of confusion rising. Finally Old Man Jones spoke up. He wasn’t anyone special in the town, just your average farmer who wanted to know what the hell was going on.
     “What’re ya talkin’ about, sonny? An hour for what?” sputtered out Old Man Jones. He wasn’t a poet, but at least he was direct.
     The top-hatted man used his cane to push up the brim which concealed his eyes. It was unbelievable at first, something the whole town obviously didn’t expect. A crimson pair of orbs were staring out over the town where human eyes should’ve been. To say we all questioned our faith at that moment would be an understatement.
     “My dear man, I’m giving you and your town one hour to make the greatest decision of all. Die, or give me one of your children,” the man grinned from ear to ear, revealing a set of razor teeth one could only describe as snake-like.
     Something in Old Man Jones must’ve had it with this guy, because he pulled out his pocket knife and ran at the demonic vagrant. He slashed at the person, tearing loose clothing, flesh and blood. The man simply grabbed Jones, gripping him by the wrist, and lifted him off the ground. He pushed his hat back a little further, letting locks of black hair fall over the sides of his face. He looked to Jones, then to the awestruck audience.
     “I was hoping a demonstration wasn’t in order. As I’ve said, I’m a fair creature. Had you brought what I asked for, this man would’ve lived. Sadly though…” the man’s words stopped there. Jones was kicking and struggling to get away from the top-hatted individual, but he seemed to possess a supernatural strength. This power was used to keep the feeble farmer levitated above the crowd. Yet this was only the beginning of our “demonstration,” for a burst of fire erupted from the chest of Old Man Jones. Flames swallowed his entire body, covering him in a blanketed inferno. It all happened so fast, I still don’t think he even had a chance to scream. The man held Jones in the air for what felt like an eternity, then dropped his charred corpse to the ground. He dusted off his hands and held them out to the crowd.
     “One hour, my friends. This is how long you’ve been given to satisfy my appetite. A moment longer will produce consequences such as this. Or this.”
     The man snapped his fingers and all of our livestock fenced around town lit up just as Old Man Jones did. The chickens ran around like soundless flaming spirits, the cattle went mad, bumping into each other like silent towers of smoldering meat. He clapped his hands together and all the fires around town went out, our animals fell to the ground as lifeless chunks of charcoal. Jumping from the base, the man worked his way through the crowd, strolling past all the villagers who dared not to be touched.
     He stopped just on the outskirts of the group and turned to us. “Find me at the tavern in an hour’s time. Remember my dear audience, don’t be late.” He propped his cane over his shoulder and began to strut off.
     “Who are you?” a voice from the crowd called.
     The man halted his steps and slowly looked back to us. He wore an evil smile upon his face, as if delighted to answer the unknown person who questioned him. “I am the Harbinger of Fate, the Herald of Chaos. Death is my servant and my curse. Be warned, I am an Agent of Strife and your life is forfeit if we meet again after today.” He directed his attention back to the road leading to the tavern and picked up his course once more. Soon he disappeared from our eyesight and we were left in a state of utter panic.
     The silence was deafening. We all stared at each other for moments, wasting the now precious gift we’d been given by “The Harbinger.” Mouths hung open, eyes shifted between husbands, wives and loved ones. It’s not known who spoke first, but finally someone asked “What are we going to do,” and the town went mad. I tried to get my bearings and talk to everyone rationally, but my attempts were in vain. It’s hard to gather the thoughts and ideas of a mob in fear for their lives, or the lives of their children. Eventually it got frustrating.
     I mounted the same statue The Harbinger stood mere moments ago. “Alright everyone, shut the hell up and listen! This man is a worker of Satan! He is too powerful for us to take in a fight! Yet we are servants of the Lord, and that adds speed to our flight from here! Gather your families, your belongings, anything of value and flee! Flee for your lives!”
     At once the crowd broke for their houses, and I followed in suite. I kicked open the door to my hut and began looking for my son. “Liam!” I shouted. “Liam, where are you?!” I must’ve ran through the place a half dozen times before the screams came from outside.
     “We can’t leave! Oh dear God, we can’t leave!” I heard as I rushed back to the crowd now gathered again. Widow Timbleton was surrounded by everyone, sobbing on her knees. “I had no one… no one left to run away with. I flew for the entrance to town and was knocked back by a sightless wall. We’re trapped! The Devil has us!”
     Immediately we left the hysterical woman to her cries so we could investigate this invisible force keeping us in the town. Father O’Riley was there probing at nothingness when we arrived. We stared in awe, unsure of what we were seeing exactly. There was absolutely no wall there, yet each of us took a turn pushing against the barrier.
     “We are all damned,” said Father O’Riley. “The Lord is smiting us for our sins.”
     I looked at my fellow villagers, neighbors, friends, and saw the frenzy they were in. They all seemed to believe a way out was possible, if they could only find it. Each one now groped at different parts of the wall, hoping against hope there was an escape from the Hell which was now our home. I removed myself from the group, running back to my house to find Liam. There was only forty minutes left before the judgment of The Harbinger was brought down, and I wanted to make sure my son was safely hidden from the sorcery of this mad man…
* * *
     Five minutes remained. The town was in utter chaos. Neighbors bickered between one another, blaming each other for this blight. Some even wanted to offer up the children of their former friends in order to appease The Harbinger. Our once quaint town of farmers and tranquility had become an asylum for the wrathful and the damned. Everyone’s true colors started to show, yet I remained uncaring. Liam was still missing and I felt completely helpless. There was now three minutes left.
     It was a difficult decision to come to, but I seemed to be the only person left in town with some sort of sanity (or perhaps it was insanity). I decided to approach The Harbinger and reason with him. It was the only thing to do. Either that or let the whole village burn without so much as an attempt to save it. I didn’t care about the inhabitants. It was Liam I was doing this for. I rushed to the tavern to meet with the top-hatted man.
     I burst through the doors of the tavern and was met with a shocking surprise. Liam was sitting with The Harbinger. The two were at a table with their backs to me, the man downing a shot of whiskey while my son spoke.
     “And you were able to trap the tiger?” Liam asked with amazement in his voice.
     The Harbinger nodded an affirmation and laughed. “It wasn’t as difficult as it sounds. Someone like me is… capable of so much more than taming simple creatures.”
     I slowly worked my way into the tavern, trying not to draw attention to myself. It was a poor effort though, because Liam quickly turned around as I stepped on a loose board that squeaked.
     “Dad!” the boy shouted as he sprang from his chair to hug me. “Dad, this is my friend! He’s caught a tiger before!”
     The Harbinger rose to his feet, smiling at the look of fear on my face. I fed into Liam’s awe, trying to keep the situation from getting worse. “Really, son? That’s good. I’ve seen your friend though, and know some of his… special skills.” The man laughed.
     “Oh Connor, I must tell you Liam here is quite the treat. I thank you for offering me some company while you and your fellow townspeople discussed my proposition. Tell me, have you all reached a decision yet?” He dropped his brow and narrowed his red eyes at me.
     “Why are you doing this,” I begged. “Are you the Devil?”
     The Harbinger became enraged. “How dare you compare me to such a paltry being! I belong to no religion, for I am older than them all! God, the Devil, they are all pawns as far as I’m concerned.” Flames began to ring around his eyes. “Now make your choice.”
     I became frightened, pulling Liam closer to me. “We have no choice. You didn’t give us enough time-“
     “Time does not matter! You were given instructions! I made it clear what would happen if my demands weren’t meant!” The Harbinger lifted his hand.
     “Wait! Take me! Spare the village, spare my son, you can have me!” I shoved Liam behind myself and dropped to my knees.
     At first I couldn’t tell if he was contemplating it, or if he was merely drinking in my shame for his amusement. He walked around me for a moment, looking me up and down. He worked his way back to the front of me and stood frozen for what felt like an eternity. Suddenly he snapped and Liam was set ablaze.
     “No!!!” I shouted! I threw myself on Liam, trying to douse the fire which magically consumed him, yet I was thrown from the flames. I couldn’t bear the heat, and I laid on the floor now crippled, watching my poor son dance his life away in helpless torment. His soundless body dropped to the floor after five minutes of being on fire.
     As if Liam’s corpse hitting the floor was his cue, The Harbinger gripped me by my throat and lifted me into the air. “I didn’t ask for you! Telling a whole town to choose between a man or its survival is trivial. They’ll choose the man every time. Telling a town to choose between itself and a child is a completely different beast entirely. That’s when the chaos ensues…” He stared at me with intensity, choking the life out of me.
     I don’t know what compelled me to ask, or how I even mustered up the strength to do so, but I guess I had to know, “Why… why create… chaos?”
     Immediately he dropped me, allowing my lungs to fill up with air once more. He grabbed his cane and made his way to the front of the tavern. He looked back at me and smirked. “Why create chaos? Isn’t it obvious? It’s what I live for, it’s what fuels me. Chaos is older than time itself, I’m older than time itself. But I didn’t get to be that way by just sitting idly by. Sometimes you need to be the fire-starter.” He kept the grin on his face as he snapped his fingers again. I could hear fires erupting all over town. “Remember, if we meet again I will kill you.” Those were his parting words as he exited the tavern, and then I passed out.
* * *
     I don’t know how I made it out of the town, or even why I wanted to live after seeing my son die, but things happen for a reason I suppose. I’m living in a new town, far from where Hell had been brought to life. I’m all but useless now, my arms and legs rendered immovable by trying to help Liam. Yet I get by, the town has accepted me as an eccentric of sorts, paying to tell them tales of the so-called Harbinger. However, they all failed to heed my warning as soon as the words “Come one, come all! You’re about to witness the greatest show of them all!” bellowed through the streets. They flocked just as we did all those years ago… 

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