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The old cure that never aged

by Scott 

Posted: 10 November 2003
Word Count: 767


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"Run" screamed a young soldier, to who he didnít know since everyone was already doing just that<br>
<br>
"Stand your post,Ē shouted a Captain as his heart brokenly, wept with self-pitying fear<br>
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No one seemed to take any heed of the now seemingly crazy leader standing still alone and so he lashed out and grabbed the first young pike he could get his hands on<br>
<br>
"Stand your post man!" he order to the man in his grasp<br>
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"Why" cried the bewildered young boy, no older than fifteen, "Whatís the point?"<br>
<br>
The captain let go and looked at what marched to greet them, he had no idea why he or anyone else should stand or run, they were doomed either way, there was nowhere to hide, perhaps somewhere beneath his crushing feat he accepted his fast arriving fate and wished to bow out with the grace he had carried through life with him<br>
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In the distant, beneath the weeping heavens and the thunderous claps of the sky marched forward a force far more frightening than the worries of death<br>
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On the ground slowly stepped giant men who had long left their earthly cadavers behind, on their shoulders lay smaller soulless beasts who held to their breasts long spears that reached far out in front, upon their backs stood more men who upon their shoulders lay more small demons and so on and so on. Towards the small town of Smithwytha herded a black wall of men over a thousand man high, devil on top of devil, swaying and drifting in mid air as the giant beasts below carried them towards their own certain destruction. Those at the top had no weapon other than their own bodies, around their chests they wore spiked iron to create more havoc once they were to descend into free fall and crash like bombs into their prey below<br>
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The captain stood still still as he watched the black wall of men trap the last specks of sun behind them and cast shadow over the town he was born to and would now die in.<br>
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What was the point, he wondered, when his enemy came crashing down they would win but only with the death of most of their own men who they used as suicide bombers, they would win only in mind but no one would win in actuality, wouldnít it be better if both could just come to an agreement and both walk away alive and with a life to be happy with. <br>
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Instead they all soon lay dead with only the seeds left to plant what would grow in their childrenís heads and their childrenís and a hundred generation childrenís minds.<br>
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The Captains before his statics death was just a man called Bernard, Bernard Kilkard, Smithwytha was a peaceful town, untouched by outsiders for a thousand years and so had no need for an army and so Bernard was quickly made a Captain by name just because he was a man of education, a man who others believed could rule a crowd of frightened men like he would do a class of children who needed to be taught how to act. Bernard taught medicine as a life line, by night he studied and sought a cure for a illness that ravished his town for as long as books had been written, in recent years the deaths were growing more frequent and he had wanted to do the world a great service by finding a cure. <br>
Of course the evil came to town and every man, woman and child were called to arms, they hadnít a chance, the men of the mystic west were champions of war and no small band would break a sweat in their goal of absolute rule <br>
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Looking into a time that might have pasted I can see what Bernard would have been, should have done if not man urge for the counter strike destruction to all the unique wonders it can create, instead of being a man crushed by the tidal wave of human bullets that fell from the sky in the name of their religion he would have gone on to create the cure for what we now call cancer. In five hundred years since he died without ever being buried we still havenít came as close as he had.<br>
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Just think how history may have been so different if no man ever laid murdered, all those chances and lives destroyed, not only their own but others and perhaps the world<br>






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Comments by other Members



olebut at 15:36 on 11 November 2003  Report this post
Scott what an eminently profound piece of writing.

is not the whole concept of war that portrayed by the devils within this piece as the ever growing face of oppression and the innocent villagers standing in the way of that opperession. I wonder how many poor souls have watched advancing invaders in a similar way to those in your story.


david


Scott at 21:46 on 11 November 2003  Report this post
That exactly what the story iss about, i just wanted to write a piece that showed the utte destruction of war not just on peoples lives but the ripple effect it can have on absoultly everything, think of all the lives destroyed at young ages who may have gone on to do something great!

We as a kind seem to destroy what it is that makes us special

Account Closed at 18:04 on 12 November 2003  Report this post
Hiya. I loved the idea behind the story and the most wonderful description for me was of the stacked devils in their iron spikes who would jump onto the poor people below! Youch! It's a really original and a cool image, even though ghastly.

I'd have like to see the story build more on the action in the story before dwelling too much on background etc. For me, the retrospect of the captain might have come later, after the arrival of the hoarde and destruction of the village maybe, as it seemed to upset the pace a little.

The image of the approaching hoard was brilliant, and I felt it could be built up more suspensfully before the background info.

Some good stuff here though. Keep it up!
James

Scott at 21:13 on 12 November 2003  Report this post
Thanks, well it was only meant to be a short fable kind of piece, unlike my other pieces this time I wanted a very short tale where the sting cam quick with a bite, I just wanted to put across a message in a unique way.

If I was thinking more of it as a story I would have written it entirly differently and I would love to spend ages writing a story based on this theme because it could be interesting but I havent the time, anyhow I already have a novel in the pipe line Ive been writing for two years which is similar in style, that too is about battling impossible odds and concerntrates on the real effects on lives instead of just pointless good verses evil with no real emotion felt by either side, I hate it when the good guys are unflinchingly heroic and the bad are evil through and through, everyone is human, no one is JUST bad or JUST good

Thanks for the comments, Im always happy when someone enjoys something I have written

Scott


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