1644
DAY TWENTY: FRIDAY ‘The Final Day’
I don’t know whether to cry with joy, or cheer with regret - the cross pieces are up, the rope is tied, and the hangman is measuring it for the drop.
I haven’t slept a wink all night. I’ve been watching them build these gallows, ever with the thought that it could have, possibly should have, been me readying my nerve for the long drop to come. Look, it’s a terrible thing, but I have to be true to myself. Sod them.
Okay, so I wasn't actually the King up there in the theatre last night, but, you know, they were still going to try and assassinate the King! Well, they almost made me do it, but let’s just gloss over that point -
The people are already getting ready out there in the field, using those standing stones as a kind of kiosk for the usual odds and ends of the cashing in of someone’s death. It’s consumerism I blame. People just want to be right there, in the action - without actually participating in that action themselves. They want to see the victim die as their eyes bulge and their tongue swells and goes blue - right up to the one second after, then the spell is broken. If I wasn't in such an odd frame of mind, I’d have Flit down there, bleeding the crowd dry, but it seems inappropriate somehow. I should - no, in fact I will - go down and pay my respects. After all, it could have been me. There but for the grace of God, etcetera.
I gave Flit the day off as well, so I’ll just pick up some junk food from down there amongst the crowd. I say I gave him the day off - I actually told him to get out of my bloody sight, because he was making me sick, but it amounts to much the same thing?
Is it me, or does the air seem a little cleaner, the sky a little brighter? Odd, don’t you think? And the ground’s soaked up the rain too, I see? Shame it didn't do the same with the mud. But what’s a little mud on your shoes, and around the bottom of your clothes - and somehow on my neck? How the Hell did that get there? Oh, no matter.
Everyone’s here, you know? Rancid Colin over there, with Trish Treyne, Shouting Steve and Edwin Shitstain, and some minor ones I can’t quite remember right now. Ah, and there’s Trep Dulligen, Benjamin Slax and Captain Sid Chirrup, along with the Committee of Dash, Bradshaw there, and Funnel, Ternby, Wilter standing there with Sosander. Edwin Ranker and Hermione Street. She looks very upset still. How I wish it could be different, dear? And look there. Even Hortense de Poissant, Ida Cornway and Millicent Brankenridge have made an appearance? Oh, and to fill up the spaces, there’s Gertie Soal, Turney Groade and the inimitable Augustus Winboll. Wait, and that lady there? Her face - that’s right! Maggie Trussed! Well, I’ll go to the bottom of my stairs! I think I’ll just have a word - oh wait. They’re bringing out Nod and Mary. This feels very odd, you know?
“Nod Pinckle and Mary Gup! You have been found guilty of plotting to kill the King, through seditious and immoral methods! To protect the Law and the Crown, it is the Decree of this Land that you be put to death, with prejudice!”
Oh, we don't really need to see this next bit, do we? It’s not pleasant, you know. There’s nothing to learn from it, nor to entertain, so I’m sure you’ll understand if - you want to see it?! You people are a sick lot! Well, forget it! I’m not going to, and that’s that! I mean, talk of horrible, nasty - ooh! Pretty colours!
And blackness -
Oh, God! I’m blind! And I can’t move my arms and legs! What’s happened? Is this some kind of divine retribution? Please God, don’t say you’ve stolen these things from me?! I need all my bits to - do things with! How am I going to do them without -
“He’s awake.” Shit! That sounded like Jimmy Boots!
“Right. Get him up.” And that’s Frank Laud! Oh shit! You know what this means? No, it doesn't mean I’m dreaming! It means -
“Well, Posster. We always get our payment, one way or another. Isn't that right, Jimmy?”
“That’s right Boss.” Oh God! I thought it was all over! I thought - I thought after yesterday, with the last minute realisation - shit! Shitting Hell! Oh God!
“Help!”
“There’s no point, Posster. They’ve all gone. It’s just you, me, and a few friends.”
Ow, that’s bright! Well, at least I’m not blind. Maybe it would be better if I was? The place is deserted. Well, apart from Major General Francis Laud and his cronies. Conor Redmerry, Freddie Snaps, Bill Freemanns, Percy Cole, Jimmy Boots and - I remember her! Sharryn Knibbs, I think? Oh. The one I got up the duff. Right. Bugger. Mind you, she shows it well? Okay! Not the point!
“Look! You don't want -“
“On the contrary, Posster! I do want, and badly! Oh, I get it. Because we didn't come and get you yesterday, you thought you were off the hook?” And there goes the cackling laughs of his cronies, “It was, as you can now imagine, a false sense of security. Oh, we don’t like our victims to see us coming, Posster? Oh no. It’s more fun this way. For us, naturally. For you it’s going to be one long scream of pain. Tie him up.”
“I say! You over there!” Saved! At last! It’s a troop of Soldiers! “What are you doing with that man?”
“He’s giving prayer for the dead, sir! We are his protection!” Says you, Frank, but given half the chance, I’ll -
“Is that so, Rector?” Here’s my chance! Right, don't let me down now, brain!
“Yes! Everything is fine!” I hate you, brain! No, wait, that was the Guardian spirit. Oh God! Even that isn't at an end! It’s all still going on! I’m really going to die! Well, we all are eventually, but me a lot quicker than you!
You know - strangely it doesn't feel as scary as I first thought? Must be now I know it’s happening, I’m calm and accepting, rather than how usually I’m speculating about something that isn't actually at that moment happening? It’s amazing how the mind works, protecting us still as we go.
Look, I still dislike you brain, but I don't hate you now. Alright?
Hang on. Why is Frank’s mouth moving but no words are coming out? And why are the trees turning purple and the sky turning green - oh bugger. I know what’s happening. It’s the bloody spirit world.
“Less of the crassness, eh, mate?”
“Frone, the Guardian. Well, isn't this special.”
“It’s nearly time, you know.”
“For what exactly? I mean, you’ve been quite vague about it up to now.”
“For the Sacrifice.”
“The what?”
“One word, three syllables -“
“Alright, smart arse! That’s not what I meant and you know it!”
“This is important, Will. Vitally important, and for all.”
“Still a bit vague, if you ask me.”
“It’s the destiny of all who carry my spirit.”
“To die?”
“To sacrifice, for the good of the world to come.”
“Pretend, I don’t know, pretend like I’m this bloke, who, you know, doesn't know what the bloody Hell you’re talking about, and explain in plain English, so I don’t continue to get sodding confused?”
“The Bones are powerful, even though the flesh that once did, no longer surrounds them. The Vessels are after them, in order to change the world, to something akin to Hell on Earth for a thousand years. Today is the last day they can attempt that, so they are throwing everything they can at you and me to get said Bones and start moulding their new world. How’s that?”
“Hmm. Clearer. I have to admit that. But -“
“Yes, in order for it to work, you must die.”
“And there’s no other way?”
“Sorry, kid. We’ve been playing this dance for more millennia than you could care to comprehend. You are a single, but extremely important, cog in a vast machine. I know. Makes you feel insignificant, doesn't it? Imagine how bad it was for me? I was the first, and I didn't have someone like me to guide me.”
“But - death?”
“Hey, what’s so bad about that? You don't know what’s on the other side, any more than me? Isn't it an awfully big adventure? One worth taking?”
“For a cause, an important cause - a vital cause, I think you may be right.” Am I actually saying these words? Yes. Yes I am. It’s really me saying them, and not some inflated spirit bent on dominating with power for once.
“I can hear your thoughts, you know.”
Bugger.
“Indeed.”
“So, I suppose -“
“It’s time? Yup, afraid so.”
And here we are, back in the real world. That is if this is the real world, and not that the spirit world is the real world and this is the spirit one. Metaphysical, eh? Yep, I still got it.
“Put the noose around his neck Jimmy!”
“I accept it.”
“Eh?”
“I accept death.” Again with the laughter! You know, I can’t wait to die, just so I can get away from this bunch of tossers! “You hold no power over me anymore.”
“Sod power, Posster! I want pain!” There is that, of course. Bugger. Hadn't thought of that.
You know, this all started first with the money. I borrowed more than I could possibly pay back, stupidly. I got caught up in things I should have just left alone, but there’s a part of me, a stupid pig-headed part of me, that wants to win, is always looking for that one great scheme, the profit - the game.
Then there was the woman, young Sharryn. I think she was sent to me by the spirits, just so they could ensure I stood here, this time, right now, with a rope about my neck and my hands and legs tied.
And I am left with a decision - live and suffer pain, until I probably will die anyway, or -
Sod it. Here I go.
Wow! It is true what they say - at the point of death, you see your life flash before your eyes! Ah, there’s Mom! Dad! Wow, I can hardly remember him! And Ben, Isla and Eric, my siblings! Then there’s old Mr Greville and his Backstreet Acquiring Business School! Happy days! It’s all there, you know? Every moment! Well - I could’ve done without seeing that one - and that one - and -
Okay, so they’re not all good memories, but I suppose the vision doesn't discriminate between the good ones and the bad ones. Bit like life, really, eh? Some satire there for you as I depart.
That’s it. Almost done. And here comes my last breath -
And the sudden smell of piss and shit. Hmm, that’s not what I was expecting, and a little too familiar? Wait. My breath is coming back! My eyes are clearing! And - and - oh good God Almighty! Flit? Really?
No, hang on! He’s on a horse, which is surprising enough in itself, but - they’re Royalist Troops! And they’re charging down the Roundabouts!
“Evenin’ Boss!”
“Flit! I think I’m genuinely pleased to see you! Give me a hug!”
“Let’s not get soppy now, Boss. Right?”
“You’re right. Of course you’re right. Flit?! Get me down from here, you immeasurably devious little troll! And where’s my dinner? I’m bloody starving!”
Oh, it’s funny how things end up, isn't it?
Well, I find it funny.
What do you mean, predictable?! Sod you! Sod you all! Look, I never asked you to read this, did I? The Bones and the Vessels? Frankly, I don’t give a shit about them!
Besides, these things have a way of sorting themselves out, don’t they.
Don’t they? You sure?
Oh bugger.
I don’t know whether to cry with joy, or cheer with regret - the cross pieces are up, the rope is tied, and the hangman is measuring it for the drop.
I haven’t slept a wink all night. I’ve been watching them build these gallows, ever with the thought that it could have, possibly should have, been me readying my nerve for the long drop to come. Look, it’s a terrible thing, but I have to be true to myself. Sod them.
Okay, so I wasn't actually the King up there in the theatre last night, but, you know, they were still going to try and assassinate the King! Well, they almost made me do it, but let’s just gloss over that point -
The people are already getting ready out there in the field, using those standing stones as a kind of kiosk for the usual odds and ends of the cashing in of someone’s death. It’s consumerism I blame. People just want to be right there, in the action - without actually participating in that action themselves. They want to see the victim die as their eyes bulge and their tongue swells and goes blue - right up to the one second after, then the spell is broken. If I wasn't in such an odd frame of mind, I’d have Flit down there, bleeding the crowd dry, but it seems inappropriate somehow. I should - no, in fact I will - go down and pay my respects. After all, it could have been me. There but for the grace of God, etcetera.
I gave Flit the day off as well, so I’ll just pick up some junk food from down there amongst the crowd. I say I gave him the day off - I actually told him to get out of my bloody sight, because he was making me sick, but it amounts to much the same thing?
Is it me, or does the air seem a little cleaner, the sky a little brighter? Odd, don’t you think? And the ground’s soaked up the rain too, I see? Shame it didn't do the same with the mud. But what’s a little mud on your shoes, and around the bottom of your clothes - and somehow on my neck? How the Hell did that get there? Oh, no matter.
Everyone’s here, you know? Rancid Colin over there, with Trish Treyne, Shouting Steve and Edwin Shitstain, and some minor ones I can’t quite remember right now. Ah, and there’s Trep Dulligen, Benjamin Slax and Captain Sid Chirrup, along with the Committee of Dash, Bradshaw there, and Funnel, Ternby, Wilter standing there with Sosander. Edwin Ranker and Hermione Street. She looks very upset still. How I wish it could be different, dear? And look there. Even Hortense de Poissant, Ida Cornway and Millicent Brankenridge have made an appearance? Oh, and to fill up the spaces, there’s Gertie Soal, Turney Groade and the inimitable Augustus Winboll. Wait, and that lady there? Her face - that’s right! Maggie Trussed! Well, I’ll go to the bottom of my stairs! I think I’ll just have a word - oh wait. They’re bringing out Nod and Mary. This feels very odd, you know?
“Nod Pinckle and Mary Gup! You have been found guilty of plotting to kill the King, through seditious and immoral methods! To protect the Law and the Crown, it is the Decree of this Land that you be put to death, with prejudice!”
Oh, we don't really need to see this next bit, do we? It’s not pleasant, you know. There’s nothing to learn from it, nor to entertain, so I’m sure you’ll understand if - you want to see it?! You people are a sick lot! Well, forget it! I’m not going to, and that’s that! I mean, talk of horrible, nasty - ooh! Pretty colours!
And blackness -
#
Oh, God! I’m blind! And I can’t move my arms and legs! What’s happened? Is this some kind of divine retribution? Please God, don’t say you’ve stolen these things from me?! I need all my bits to - do things with! How am I going to do them without -
“He’s awake.” Shit! That sounded like Jimmy Boots!
“Right. Get him up.” And that’s Frank Laud! Oh shit! You know what this means? No, it doesn't mean I’m dreaming! It means -
“Well, Posster. We always get our payment, one way or another. Isn't that right, Jimmy?”
“That’s right Boss.” Oh God! I thought it was all over! I thought - I thought after yesterday, with the last minute realisation - shit! Shitting Hell! Oh God!
“Help!”
“There’s no point, Posster. They’ve all gone. It’s just you, me, and a few friends.”
Ow, that’s bright! Well, at least I’m not blind. Maybe it would be better if I was? The place is deserted. Well, apart from Major General Francis Laud and his cronies. Conor Redmerry, Freddie Snaps, Bill Freemanns, Percy Cole, Jimmy Boots and - I remember her! Sharryn Knibbs, I think? Oh. The one I got up the duff. Right. Bugger. Mind you, she shows it well? Okay! Not the point!
“Look! You don't want -“
“On the contrary, Posster! I do want, and badly! Oh, I get it. Because we didn't come and get you yesterday, you thought you were off the hook?” And there goes the cackling laughs of his cronies, “It was, as you can now imagine, a false sense of security. Oh, we don’t like our victims to see us coming, Posster? Oh no. It’s more fun this way. For us, naturally. For you it’s going to be one long scream of pain. Tie him up.”
“I say! You over there!” Saved! At last! It’s a troop of Soldiers! “What are you doing with that man?”
“He’s giving prayer for the dead, sir! We are his protection!” Says you, Frank, but given half the chance, I’ll -
“Is that so, Rector?” Here’s my chance! Right, don't let me down now, brain!
“Yes! Everything is fine!” I hate you, brain! No, wait, that was the Guardian spirit. Oh God! Even that isn't at an end! It’s all still going on! I’m really going to die! Well, we all are eventually, but me a lot quicker than you!
You know - strangely it doesn't feel as scary as I first thought? Must be now I know it’s happening, I’m calm and accepting, rather than how usually I’m speculating about something that isn't actually at that moment happening? It’s amazing how the mind works, protecting us still as we go.
Look, I still dislike you brain, but I don't hate you now. Alright?
Hang on. Why is Frank’s mouth moving but no words are coming out? And why are the trees turning purple and the sky turning green - oh bugger. I know what’s happening. It’s the bloody spirit world.
“Less of the crassness, eh, mate?”
“Frone, the Guardian. Well, isn't this special.”
“It’s nearly time, you know.”
“For what exactly? I mean, you’ve been quite vague about it up to now.”
“For the Sacrifice.”
“The what?”
“One word, three syllables -“
“Alright, smart arse! That’s not what I meant and you know it!”
“This is important, Will. Vitally important, and for all.”
“Still a bit vague, if you ask me.”
“It’s the destiny of all who carry my spirit.”
“To die?”
“To sacrifice, for the good of the world to come.”
“Pretend, I don’t know, pretend like I’m this bloke, who, you know, doesn't know what the bloody Hell you’re talking about, and explain in plain English, so I don’t continue to get sodding confused?”
“The Bones are powerful, even though the flesh that once did, no longer surrounds them. The Vessels are after them, in order to change the world, to something akin to Hell on Earth for a thousand years. Today is the last day they can attempt that, so they are throwing everything they can at you and me to get said Bones and start moulding their new world. How’s that?”
“Hmm. Clearer. I have to admit that. But -“
“Yes, in order for it to work, you must die.”
“And there’s no other way?”
“Sorry, kid. We’ve been playing this dance for more millennia than you could care to comprehend. You are a single, but extremely important, cog in a vast machine. I know. Makes you feel insignificant, doesn't it? Imagine how bad it was for me? I was the first, and I didn't have someone like me to guide me.”
“But - death?”
“Hey, what’s so bad about that? You don't know what’s on the other side, any more than me? Isn't it an awfully big adventure? One worth taking?”
“For a cause, an important cause - a vital cause, I think you may be right.” Am I actually saying these words? Yes. Yes I am. It’s really me saying them, and not some inflated spirit bent on dominating with power for once.
“I can hear your thoughts, you know.”
Bugger.
“Indeed.”
“So, I suppose -“
“It’s time? Yup, afraid so.”
And here we are, back in the real world. That is if this is the real world, and not that the spirit world is the real world and this is the spirit one. Metaphysical, eh? Yep, I still got it.
“Put the noose around his neck Jimmy!”
“I accept it.”
“Eh?”
“I accept death.” Again with the laughter! You know, I can’t wait to die, just so I can get away from this bunch of tossers! “You hold no power over me anymore.”
“Sod power, Posster! I want pain!” There is that, of course. Bugger. Hadn't thought of that.
You know, this all started first with the money. I borrowed more than I could possibly pay back, stupidly. I got caught up in things I should have just left alone, but there’s a part of me, a stupid pig-headed part of me, that wants to win, is always looking for that one great scheme, the profit - the game.
Then there was the woman, young Sharryn. I think she was sent to me by the spirits, just so they could ensure I stood here, this time, right now, with a rope about my neck and my hands and legs tied.
And I am left with a decision - live and suffer pain, until I probably will die anyway, or -
Sod it. Here I go.
Wow! It is true what they say - at the point of death, you see your life flash before your eyes! Ah, there’s Mom! Dad! Wow, I can hardly remember him! And Ben, Isla and Eric, my siblings! Then there’s old Mr Greville and his Backstreet Acquiring Business School! Happy days! It’s all there, you know? Every moment! Well - I could’ve done without seeing that one - and that one - and -
Okay, so they’re not all good memories, but I suppose the vision doesn't discriminate between the good ones and the bad ones. Bit like life, really, eh? Some satire there for you as I depart.
That’s it. Almost done. And here comes my last breath -
#
And the sudden smell of piss and shit. Hmm, that’s not what I was expecting, and a little too familiar? Wait. My breath is coming back! My eyes are clearing! And - and - oh good God Almighty! Flit? Really?
No, hang on! He’s on a horse, which is surprising enough in itself, but - they’re Royalist Troops! And they’re charging down the Roundabouts!
“Evenin’ Boss!”
“Flit! I think I’m genuinely pleased to see you! Give me a hug!”
“Let’s not get soppy now, Boss. Right?”
“You’re right. Of course you’re right. Flit?! Get me down from here, you immeasurably devious little troll! And where’s my dinner? I’m bloody starving!”
Oh, it’s funny how things end up, isn't it?
Well, I find it funny.
What do you mean, predictable?! Sod you! Sod you all! Look, I never asked you to read this, did I? The Bones and the Vessels? Frankly, I don’t give a shit about them!
Besides, these things have a way of sorting themselves out, don’t they.
Don’t they? You sure?
Oh bugger.
… END?
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