Dec 2018
A Deplorable Action and Internal Regret
Thunder cracks open the dark gray skyline, unleashing its contents onto the quiet, flat plane below.
Lightening dances around the sky putting on a dazzling show.
A man sits alone in a dark, quiet house firmly holding a cold, unforgiving pistol,
unfazed by the increasingly violent weather outside his broken front window that’s being presented to him as a symbol
to signify that the end has arrived.
His heart beat is fading and soon it will become impossible to revive.
He stares blankly at his computer screen horrified.
With his heart shattered and his soul destroyed, the numb barley living carcass he has turned into is responsible for a crime far worse than genocide.
Putting a bullet in between his eyes right now is more than justified.
He caused this…he is the mastermind.
One dot remains active on his computer screen.
He closes his eyes fighting back tears, consequences this severe were not foreseen.
Twelve billion dots use to be present on his computer screen, that’s twelve…billion…dots.
Far too many, or so the global elite had thought.
A global population of twelve Billion had all been microchipped to track their whereabouts at all times.
He should have known better, he saw the warning signs,
but now it’s too late and a population of twelve billion people on a dying, decaying world is down to one.
Him, the lone survivor, a fate he wouldn’t wish upon anyone.
He is the last surviving human on the flat plane known as Earth.
Extinction is on the horizon, there will be no rebirth.
It’s his fault that mankind has reached extinction.
He went along with the plan given to him by his boss’s, the global elite, and helped carry out their mission
of reducing the world population by seventy-five percent to save the dying world and its resources.
They paid him handsomely for his service.
They instructed him to create a fast spreading, deadly disease to fulfill their plan.
He knew what he was doing was wrong, knew the plan was flawed and wasn’t ever a fan,
but turning away from it would have gotten him murdered.
Now he wishes he had.
He was instructed to create a cure that would be released once the population decrease hit its mark.
He thought he had the formula nailed down and had hit it out of the ballpark.
But he was wrong, his formula was flawed
and did nothing to stop the spread of the disease.
Second by second, dots dropped off his computer screen.
He watched the dots disappear all the way from twelve million down to the teens,
to now just one, him.
Death calls his name but what awaits him on the other side is rather grim.
Eternal damnation in hell fire.
The blood of twelve billion on his hands is not something the father is going to look kindly upon after he expires.
He was paid ninety-three million for his disease.
Money he burned after the plan went to ****.
What good is money now anyways when you’re the only one left?
He can’t even donate some of it to an invited quest.
The extinction of the human species is on his hands.
Isn’t that kind of fate just grand?
He takes a deep breath, sits back in his chair and places his gun in his mouth.
He doesn’t want to die, but it’s time to face his maker and send his soul down to the very deep south.
He closes his eyes tight fighting back the nerves of what he’s about to do.
Even after death, the day he created his disease will be a day he forever rues.
He asks God for forgiveness, truly sorry for what he has done, but not expecting forgiveness to be granted.
He will be greeted with harsh criticism and quickly reprimanded.
He takes one last deep breath, places his finger on the trigger and gets ready to pull…
…as a knock on the front door interrupts the proceedings.
A knock?
At the front door?
How is that possible?
Thoughts of confusion rush through his head.
He stands up from his chair and walks slowly to the front door.
He places his hand on the ****, then in his mind counts to four.
He slowly turns the **** and opens to door revealing…
nothing on the other side.
He walks outside looking around by finds no one in the area.
It’s probably just him becoming a victim of hysteria,
or the weather playing a trick on his mind.
Who is he kidding, he is the only one left of all mankind.
He turns around and steps back inside the house where he instantly stops.
Sweat begins to pour down his face as he feels his jaw drop.
Standing in front of him is a young child holding out his gun.
Shocked, he’s unsure if he should stay and chat or take off and run.
The child smiles, “you left your gun behind sir, I wish to return it to you.
You are going to need it very soon.”
“Who are you?
Where did you come from?
Are there others like you still alive?”
“Come sit down in your chair and all shall be revealed.
My mission here is not to conceal,
but to open your eyes to what you must do.”
The man takes a seat back in his chair unsure of what to make of the boy.
“Who are you with?
How are you still alive?”
“I’m not alive…and neither are they.”
The man looks around the room as suddenly he is surrounded by hundreds of children, both boys and girls.
Their skin is pale.
Their eyes gray and lifeless.
They all chant barely above a whisper something he can’t make out.
He looks back at the original boy still smiling in front of him.
Now may be the time for him to start singing some hymns.
“We are part of the twelve Billion lives you have taken with your selfish actions.
Granted we are a small fraction
of all the souls you stole and robbed of life,
but this gets the point across that it’s time for you to come face to face with a knife.
In this case your gun.
We were sent here by our father to ensure you do what must be done,
for he awaits your soul and can’t wait to meet you.”
“Just who is your father?”
“Lucifer, why? Did you think God was going to come for you?”
The man breaks down, tears falling from his eyes,
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen!
I…I…I…was forced into making the virus!
They would have killed me if I didn’t do what they wanted!”
“At least you would have gone to Heaven and saved twelve Billion lives,
but now it’s too late for that,
so, take the gun, place it in your mouth and pull the trigger now.
The human species survival is no longer allowed.”
The man, crying hysterically, places the gun into his mouth.
He asks God one last time for forgiveness but accepts the fact that he is about to head south.
He pulls the trigger, a bullet rips through his brain, exits out of his skull and comes to rest in the wall behind him.
The light of the world begins to dim
as darkness creeps in corrupting his soul.
The final dot on the computer screen in front of him flashes three times
then disappears as the final man dies out.
The extinction of mankind is now complete.
Thunder cracks open the dark gray skyline, unleashing its contents onto the quiet, flat plane below.
Lightening dances around the sky putting on a dazzling show.
A man sits alone in a dark, quiet house firmly holding a cold, unforgiving pistol,
unfazed by the increasingly violent weather outside his broken front window that’s being presented to him as a symbol
to signify that the end has arrived.
His heart beat is fading and soon it will become impossible to revive.
He stares blankly at his computer screen horrified.
With his heart shattered and his soul destroyed, the numb barley living carcass he has turned into is responsible for a crime far worse than genocide.
Putting a bullet in between his eyes right now is more than justified.
He caused this…he is the mastermind.
One dot remains active on his computer screen.
He closes his eyes fighting back tears, consequences this severe were not foreseen.
Twelve billion dots use to be present on his computer screen, that’s twelve…billion…dots.
Far too many, or so the global elite had thought.
A global population of twelve Billion had all been microchipped to track their whereabouts at all times.
He should have known better, he saw the warning signs,
but now it’s too late and a population of twelve billion people on a dying, decaying world is down to one.
Him, the lone survivor, a fate he wouldn’t wish upon anyone.
He is the last surviving human on the flat plane known as Earth.
Extinction is on the horizon, there will be no rebirth.
It’s his fault that mankind has reached extinction.
He went along with the plan given to him by his boss’s, the global elite, and helped carry out their mission
of reducing the world population by seventy-five percent to save the dying world and its resources.
They paid him handsomely for his service.
They instructed him to create a fast spreading, deadly disease to fulfill their plan.
He knew what he was doing was wrong, knew the plan was flawed and wasn’t ever a fan,
but turning away from it would have gotten him murdered.
Now he wishes he had.
He was instructed to create a cure that would be released once the population decrease hit its mark.
He thought he had the formula nailed down and had hit it out of the ballpark.
But he was wrong, his formula was flawed
and did nothing to stop the spread of the disease.
Second by second, dots dropped off his computer screen.
He watched the dots disappear all the way from twelve million down to the teens,
to now just one, him.
Death calls his name but what awaits him on the other side is rather grim.
Eternal damnation in hell fire.
The blood of twelve billion on his hands is not something the father is going to look kindly upon after he expires.
He was paid ninety-three million for his disease.
Money he burned after the plan went to ****.
What good is money now anyways when you’re the only one left?
He can’t even donate some of it to an invited quest.
The extinction of the human species is on his hands.
Isn’t that kind of fate just grand?
He takes a deep breath, sits back in his chair and places his gun in his mouth.
He doesn’t want to die, but it’s time to face his maker and send his soul down to the very deep south.
He closes his eyes tight fighting back the nerves of what he’s about to do.
Even after death, the day he created his disease will be a day he forever rues.
He asks God for forgiveness, truly sorry for what he has done, but not expecting forgiveness to be granted.
He will be greeted with harsh criticism and quickly reprimanded.
He takes one last deep breath, places his finger on the trigger and gets ready to pull…
…as a knock on the front door interrupts the proceedings.
A knock?
At the front door?
How is that possible?
Thoughts of confusion rush through his head.
He stands up from his chair and walks slowly to the front door.
He places his hand on the ****, then in his mind counts to four.
He slowly turns the **** and opens to door revealing…
nothing on the other side.
He walks outside looking around by finds no one in the area.
It’s probably just him becoming a victim of hysteria,
or the weather playing a trick on his mind.
Who is he kidding, he is the only one left of all mankind.
He turns around and steps back inside the house where he instantly stops.
Sweat begins to pour down his face as he feels his jaw drop.
Standing in front of him is a young child holding out his gun.
Shocked, he’s unsure if he should stay and chat or take off and run.
The child smiles, “you left your gun behind sir, I wish to return it to you.
You are going to need it very soon.”
“Who are you?
Where did you come from?
Are there others like you still alive?”
“Come sit down in your chair and all shall be revealed.
My mission here is not to conceal,
but to open your eyes to what you must do.”
The man takes a seat back in his chair unsure of what to make of the boy.
“Who are you with?
How are you still alive?”
“I’m not alive…and neither are they.”
The man looks around the room as suddenly he is surrounded by hundreds of children, both boys and girls.
Their skin is pale.
Their eyes gray and lifeless.
They all chant barely above a whisper something he can’t make out.
He looks back at the original boy still smiling in front of him.
Now may be the time for him to start singing some hymns.
“We are part of the twelve Billion lives you have taken with your selfish actions.
Granted we are a small fraction
of all the souls you stole and robbed of life,
but this gets the point across that it’s time for you to come face to face with a knife.
In this case your gun.
We were sent here by our father to ensure you do what must be done,
for he awaits your soul and can’t wait to meet you.”
“Just who is your father?”
“Lucifer, why? Did you think God was going to come for you?”
The man breaks down, tears falling from his eyes,
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen!
I…I…I…was forced into making the virus!
They would have killed me if I didn’t do what they wanted!”
“At least you would have gone to Heaven and saved twelve Billion lives,
but now it’s too late for that,
so, take the gun, place it in your mouth and pull the trigger now.
The human species survival is no longer allowed.”
The man, crying hysterically, places the gun into his mouth.
He asks God one last time for forgiveness but accepts the fact that he is about to head south.
He pulls the trigger, a bullet rips through his brain, exits out of his skull and comes to rest in the wall behind him.
The light of the world begins to dim
as darkness creeps in corrupting his soul.
The final dot on the computer screen in front of him flashes three times
then disappears as the final man dies out.
The extinction of mankind is now complete.
