100 years, looking back, What if?

(work in progress)

 

The thunderstorm had rolled in on the old decrept building Parx had lived in the last two thirds of his life unexpectedly. Parx probably couldn't remember the last time the house had been without a layer of dust over everythign but the kitchen, the couch, the bar and the bedroom. Even the upstairs desk was brown with layers. Though there were the occassional leaks during the rain. Work was always busy. The Agency ran itself these days. Had branched out from bodyguards to pickup the slack. BlackStar... Well. BlackStar was gone in the sense that he was the only one left on the island that could remember when business -had- been good. But thats getting away from the story. Once could tell by the way the rain was comeing in that today would be miserable. It hadn't stopped raining for almost three days now. Just by looking at the place one could tell the man who resided within kept it functional, if lacking creature comforts. The firepalce was burning brightly. The old faded furnature was of course nearly a hundred years old. Everything in the palce was, the only thing older was the man himself. Business was slow and so he found himself sitting on the couch, a bottle of whiskey between his fingers. His eyes were dark as they glared into the fire. He reeked of death, his approaching death? or possably others, no one knew.Taking a look at the man you could say he was in his late fourties. Probably early fifties. Johnathon Argus Parx had seen alot of shit in his days. All one hundred and fifty-two of them. Every day was a waking nightmare for the man, And only the killing made any sense to him now.

 

His mind was awash with screams, of mothers and children, fathers and sons begging for mercy before he snuffed them out like candles. His trusted shotgun lay on the floor, the breach open and one shell remaining within. IT had become a ritual for him to load just one shell into it now. Woudl tonight be yet another night? Staring at the weapon and wondering if anyone would even notice if Johnny Parx faded into the dark like so many other monsters of Midian had? Multiple bottles of whiskey lay on a tray upon the floor some empty, others partialy gone. But what truly had the mans attention was a detail, one he normaly never even noticed upon the rock wall of the fireplace. One of the bricks was loose. Had always been for as long as he could remember. Why it naver drew his attention was probably lost to the ages. What truly made him reel was when pulling back the brick he found another brick was loose. and another. A secret compartment revealed a photo album. Covered in dust.

 

He'd turn to walk away, standing before the fire, Hands calloused and worn thumbed through it and just settled on opening in the middle before he'd drop it in a hurry as if branded. The book landed in a heap, photos scattering aroudn it and dust lifting from the pages. Falling to his knees before the photoalbum shaking hands, yes, shaking. Long ago he'd given up the mechanical arms. So long ago he couldn't remember when, why or where. His fingers lifted up the first photo and he'd choke up with tears. The woman in the picture was young, she was scarred, a partial glasgow didn't deny her beauty. It enhanced it. He loved her scars, they made her unique, showed boldly to the world they proved she wouldn't falter. She had captured his heart and even now she still held it, long dead though she may be. Tears streaked this old mans face. The stale, stagnant, depressing air stirred. A floor above him there rested a picture upon the wall, layers of dust concealing the picture beneath of the same woman. He hadn't looked upon it in ages. Neither had he looked upon the one near the dining table. But these photo's. He'd enevr even known about. A secret scrap book, doomed to remain unfinished by the cruel fate of time. He had outlived her, when once he could have only prayed he lived long enough for her. "Rhapsody..."

 

To many Rhapsody was just a word, a state of bliss. To him, it was a name. A womans name. -Her- Name. It brought back many dark thoguhts. All of them scatching and sharp upon the crumbling walls of his heart. Alchohol had helped in the beginning. then time had crept in and ruined the man. Alchoholism, Murder, Betrayel, Hate, Anger, Insanity. It had all dragged him down and he'd forgotten, or had he merely jsut pretended al lthese years that she ment nothing to him? Either way the tears came and splashed hotly upon the floor as he wept. Love like theirs only happened once in a lifetime. Now more than ever that single shell looked so inviting. He'd retrive a photo of her and him. Happier days. That white dress had looked so beautiful on her. The place of the picture had been perfect. They had eachother. He'd drop the bottle of whiskey and not even register the clatter of it upon the platter. The photo slipped from his hand as he hung his hea. He could almost feel her right there with him, reaching up to him. Taking the photo and touching his heart. Time hadn't dulled his feelings for her one bit, there was a saying that time makes the heart grow fonder. And he couldn't help but wonder. Was she waiting for him still? on that otherside? Perhaps it was tiem to find out? He could see her amythest eyne. The life they held. The lust for living. The love for him. His blood boiled in his veins and his heart thudded in his chest, "Ke'Valkyrie... I've missed you so... " Her hand would alight upon his chest and that was his undoing as the weight of years finaly caught him and that once large heart semed to ressurect itself from the shriveled blackened husk many long jaded and bitter years had turned it into. The heart was willing, but the body and soul were too long gone to support the weight of life anymore.

 

The skys would clear up during the night, finding him sitting there in the same position he'd fallen. Those many photos scattered about him as he finaly found peace. His eyes still closed and breath not stirring the air around him. She had come back to him once more, as she always did in the end.

Love like theirs would never be stopped by time nor distance because it only happened once upon a lifetime.

Done