Other Fan Fiction ❯ Tome of a Fiend ❯ The Death ( Chapter 2 )

Tuesday April 13, 1946

 

I thought Jack was a proper chief but he is being unreasonable! We could expand our influence through the opium sales, but he keeps saying drugs are beneath us. I thought he understood, but he enjoys playing in control not being in control, the bloody fool! Well fine I won't fight his decision, and I'll continue to play his enforcer until the time is right, and I'll show him how a proper chief acts. Hell, if it weren't because of me there would be no gang, no one for him to lead! In this month we have become a nighttime terror to children all over Derbyshire and taboo to the adults. At first the small terrors that we committed were enough to satisfy me, the shaking fear that others get whenever I pass by was enough to fill the hole in my soul but not now. I need to expand the influence of the group, and that is why I want to get into the opium sales, and make people worldwide fear our names. But not that bloody snake Jack, no we have to do things his way well not anymore. So help me when the time is right, I'll sharpen one last stick on both ends.

 

Tuesday April 20, 1946

 

Those traitors they had the nerve to hunt me! Jack is the one holding them back, but no they are nothing but sniveling puppy dogs following his orders so he can stay in control. Well I showed them, all of them, they hunted me, and one by one they became the hunted. The screams of pain were like music to my ears and the blood was the sweet wine that is sipped during the sonnet. I cut their flesh and made them pay for turning on me I made them all bleed! Jack was scared, he didn't have his mask to hide behind and I made him pay the worst! After I mutilated that traitor I had his head for the beast, not the one on the island, but the one that lives in me and it was begging for that windbag's head, and I delivered! It feels so…that was when I heard the sirens. I wanted to run but it was too late, society had me in its grasps and I knew that this time it would not let go.

 

Wednesday May 13, 1946

 

Today was the day of the choirboys' funeral; I was not allowed to attend which disappointed me because I wanted to explain my actions. To others they were cruel, gruesome acts of violence but if they knew how I was betrayed then they would defend me. If they knew that I was only listening to the desires in my soul, the same ones that can be found in all that have witnessed death, had thoughts of revenge or hate, then they would not be so quick to condemn me. But they wouldn't give me a bloody chance! They did what society has done for years when they don't want to face something they either lock it away and forget about it or destroy it. To me they succeeded in doing both, because by locking me away they have inevitably destroyed me.

 

Monday May 18, 1946

 

Mother came to visit me today, and I did not even recognize her. She was always so beautiful and gentle, but now she looks worn and haggard as if she has not slept in days and has given up caring about he appearance. This is not the first time that she has visited me; she has been a vigil for me visiting often as well as older sister. I suppose that if I have any regret it is that I caused them any pain. They tell me that father has declared my actions as a result of that horrid island and is doing everything to get me the best doctors to help me. But of course I see through this rouse of his, this is just a way to comfort mother and sister and appear to be a good father in the public's eye. In truth he doesn't care I bet he is in the process of disowning me as I write this.

I feign remorse for mother's sake so she doesn't blame herself; once she is calm I inquire about getting out of here, out of this hole, and into the free world. She says that she doesn't believe that I am well enough and that it is in my best interest to stay in the hospital. My last hope at liberation is gone. The men in white are coming now, seeing as my writing time is up and I must return to my small white box and my tight white jacket.

 

Thursday June 13, 1946

 

I hate the color white, and white is all I see in this room. They keep me strapped down saying that I am a danger to others, and myself but the only danger is the hole in my heart that yearns for freedom. I am slowly becoming the mad man that they say I am. I don't see my family anymore, but I don't care. I just want to be free, not trapped like a rat in this place! It was perfect on the island, yes the island, I know that freedom was my downfall but I would gladly fall again for just one more taste of that absolute power. It has been a year almost two since the island and I dream about returning to it everyday instead of rotting and letting the darkness in my heart slowly destroy me. No! I won't let that happen, I will not let the beast destroy me, not now not ever! So journal I bid you a final farewell.

 

 

 

Nurse: It seems doctor that he managed to commit suicide by running into the wall until he broke his neck.

 

Doctor: What a slow and agonizing way to go, he must truly have wanted death. Well nurse let's inform the family and clean up this mess. Hmm… seems like he found a way to out wit the darkness.

 

 

 

End