TDV 62: The Thief Of Timeworn Lives And His Fortress

February 12th, 2010 by Sharkchild

I sat beside my grandmother, who lay calmly and quietly within her bed. Nothing but her shallow breaths penetrated the atmosphere of her room. I intently watched her chest as it rose and fell. Only by the visual motion could I even discern and align the sound of those faint breaths with my audible perception.

My mother was in the kitchen cooking dinner. My father was in the den, listening to the radio. But those sounds did not matter; they were distant and out of mind.

As I gave my attention to my grandmother, I began to notice the uncanny vibration of life within her. It quivered with each breath as an aura of pale color. The hue of this color waned in and out of darker and lighter shades as death came and went, fighting for full, undeniable control. And with this apparition, all sounds vanished. Like a dream, I witnessed visual phenomena that I could hold no conscious understanding of or control over. Then, with a new breath, I saw the aura of life around my grandmother change as like the gentle change of a breeze. I walked over to the head of her bed, leaned against the edge, and moved in my face close to hers. Then, with what was supposed to be her last breath, I breathed. Before she could sip in, I snagged the breath from her, taking it into my own essence, stealing away those last seconds of life she had left.

For a moment, I tasted death. As a fortune teller communes with the future, so this breath within me told of death and its beyond. It tainted my insides, burning them yet tingling them with vibrant, magnificent feeling. And as this breath reached the ends of its paths within my lungs, I sensed the beginnings of an incredible power, an indestructible presence. This first breath that I had stolen was laid within me as a brick—the first brick lain towards the construction of a menacing apparatus. I could not fathom its shape or even guess at its purpose, but it now rested within me as an artifact of vision, destiny, and perseverance—those things required to complete its work.

(Listen to the rest)


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