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I am the only one to blame for this
Somehow it all ends up the same
Soaring on the wings of selfish pride
I flew too high and like Icarus I collide
With a world I try so hard to leave behind
To rid myself of all but love
to give and die
To turn away and not become
Another nail to pierce the skin of one who loves
more deeply than the oceans,
more abundant than the tears
Of a world embracing every heartache
Can I be the one to sacrifice
Or grip the spear and watch the blood and water flow
To love you – take my world apart
To need you – I am on my knees
To love you – take my world apart
To need you – broken on my knees
Those were the lyrics of Jars of clay’s World Apart that spieled out from the stereo that stood lonely on the small cedar table inside Ryan’s abode. The song that poured loosely like canticles was accompanied by Ryan’s pantomime. The pantomime that declared plainly how drunken Ryan was. With each boozy steps he took, he always accompanied it with deep swig from the bottle of liquor enjoying the slavery of his arm.
Ryan was vastly drunk. And that had been his new daily mundane after her encounter with the only girl that successfully enamoured him. He was sure he could still make out the unlined pretty face of Regina in every little slumber he had. The face had been tormenting his every sleep and sopor. He regretted ever compelling her to forget about him albeit he knew that was the best thing to do. He couldn’t be with a mortal and while he was not one –and he knew it would be a deepest duncish of himself to turn her into one. But he so much loved Regina, that he hadn’t even given a darn hoot his life was on halt like figurine mummified since his bitter encounter with her. He had stopped his vigilante duty, stopped haunting trespasser that trespassed in Locksley. He stopped doing nothing other than than drinking to stupor, haunting of animals to feed on and listening to canticles that really touched the heart.
Ryan was still in inebriated state when he heard a strange sound in the wood. Ryan Jericho was the only being who had chosen the brimming forest as an abode. He’d complained his transmutation into a supernatural had slunk him to being reclusive. He felt he no longer deserved the gregarious life of human beings; hence the reason he built a cabin he reposed and resided. The so-called cabin was built at the extreme innards of the forest; and Ryan could boast that nobody had ever set a wink on his cabin–well perhaps someone had, and that person was Alzarius; the witch that turned him and hybrid.
Ryan stopped pantomiming to the canticles Jars of clays was spieling, he reduced the volume of the stereo then pried his ear-drum to get a reasonable dosage of the sound coming from the woods. Being an hybrid, ability to pick long shards of sounds was as easy as Peter cursorily betrayed Christ. The sound streaming into his ear-drum described it was footfalls. A footfalls of human being. Definitely that was intruder in his den.
His furrow constringed, while his dark-blue eyes had turned deuced stinking of ire. He removed the bottle of the inebriant from the slavery of his arm, took a long-lasting swig from the pit of it then flung the useless thing away uselessly.
He strode forward in a clumsy unsteady gait–sincere apology from the intoxicant in control. His eyes roved round the recess of his cabin to ascertain the intruder had not gained entrance already. A twirp sound caught his attention under the cedarwood table laid his stereo. He bent over to see a mice struggling to enjoy the uncomfortable solace of the table. The little rodent was making a skreak sound as it roamed about under table when Ryan grasped it abruptly.
“Ssshhh. Stop yelling you little slutty asinine thing” He said, as he brandished the poor rodent over his face while he pressed his lips with right index finger. The rodent seemed to hear his wielder warning as it stoped twirpinng and casted a look that could draw high priced empathy from the devil himself. The look that meant it was begging for is life.
But Ryan was not moved.
He was ready squelch the pitiable life of the mice. The little creature seemed to do progress to arouse the wraith of his past, the wraith he vowed to pelt away into the world of bygones.
He had thought accepting his immortality would crave happiness-eternal for him. But of course it did–but it just wasn’t eternal after all. Because he had started to rue over how his immortality would deprive him of love and affection from the lady of her fantansy. Now looking at the tiny creature on his hand with the most enticing inculpable look, it made him feel that was the life he deserved. A life so flawless. A life so innocent. Not the type that feed on blood, that had to take an animal’s life before he could survive. That could not be with Regina.
“Don’t kill the creature Ryan, you should have inkling idea you are hurting it” Ryan swerved his head to the angle the voice crept from, it was his only friend; Lazarus.
Lazarus was a monk who had also chosen a recluse life like his friend Ryan. One perceptible feature on Lazarus was his beard. Thick hair flooded his face–from his temple down to his neck region was crested with thick fugly beard. Beard that looked it had never been greeted with razor for once. While the once that stayed put as his moustache would have countless of times upset his petite mouth due to strand of hair that escaped into them whenever the monk talked.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t squelch life of this tiny thing friend”
“Because that’s not who you are Ryan. You are not a monster”
“Spare me that! You and I know I’m not human being either”Ryan countered.”Just to boost that brain of yours, you have an idea how many of animals I have fed on ? How many of them I’ve killed ? I’m a freaking monster! Dam!”
“Ryan you only feed on them because you had to”Lazarus placed more emphasis on the ‘feed’ and that had given a vivid picture of his mouth resembling an anus of a cow.”You don’t just kill them for fun. But I could bet my whole beard on it that you are not supping the liquid of that mice” Lazarus rubbed his beard lightly as he made the phrase.
“I’m just tired of this. I’m tired of the way I am. I don’t want to be vampire! I don’t want to be freaking werewolf. All I want is being human. I want to fall in love!” Ryan raved on giving hope for the tears in his eyes to pour.
“So love has been the reason for your insane act” Lazarus moved closer to Ryan, cast a quizzical look on him. “So love it is ?”
Ryan did not say anything. Instead he returned the stare he was being shot with. He couldn’t blame Lazarus that much. What could a monastic know about love ? Of course he knew how monastics had always been determined to live a sequestered life of chastity–life striped off from beguiling whims and indulgence. That is their choice not his. He didn’t choose a sequestered life neither did he choose to be a celibacy–but unfortunately they’d chosen him. What a cruel life!
“So you now drink? So whatever happened to you being a teetotaler ? Lazarus’s eyes located the bottle of liquor resting in a corner. He had always known Ryan to be teetotaler. A total abstainer. Someone that found it hard to taste an alcohol just like how it was hard for Nigerian police officer to stop collecting a remittal of twenty naira from hapless transporters striving to make earnings. The monk was disappointed; evidently showing on his cow-anus-shaped mouth.
“Answer me Ryan, I said do you now drink ?”
“Gweerrk” Ryan belched, blessing Lazarus’s bearded-face with thick stench of alcohol like it was a perfect response to his question.
The monk contorted.”What a silly act ?” He asked while his contorted face stayed mummified still.
“Gweeeeeeeeeeerk”Another long chronic belch escaped his gorge, blessing Lazarus’s face the more.
“Whaaaat” Monk was irritated.
“Soo-rry” his apology came slurry.
“I said I’m so-o-ory”
Lazarus drilled a stare on him before tapping his forehead with his palm; How silliest the crazy thing called love could turn a mighty bairn into ?
“I came to tell you something Ryan. Something so crucial that it has to do with life & death” Lazarus said, tricking out a loud thundering jape from Ryan.
“Lazarus” Ryan called.
“Ryan I’m serious about th-”
“Lazarus!!” Ryan yelled.
“Lazarus please don’t tell me you are dying cuz no Jesus is here to do another resurrection on you, or perhaps you wana have some vampire blood in your body before you die” Ryan codded, totally oblivious of the foreboding evil reeking proudly in the air.
The monk snubbed his jest, as he delved out a talisman from a pocket of his raiment.
“Take this Ryan” He stretched it toward him.
“It’s a talisman Ryan. It’s made up of the four elements; The fire, the water, the air and the earth. You need to always put this round your neck everytime of the day. I foresee death looming around you. Please take this”
The statement appeared as the most ludicrous sound ever to spiel into his ear-drum. Probably his friend is sick, mentally deranged to the core. But he should have hinted him awareness so he could cure him with his vampire’s blood.
“Ryan take it please” The monk pleaded but Ryan only glared at him then he said:
“I’m not collecting that”
“But why” Monk asked looking very worried.
“Because I can’t die. I’m immortal” He declared vehemently.
His friend receded. Shook his head in pity and left him. He felt a very gory death fast approaching on Ryan but there was nothing he could do to help him.
To be continued…