Valves of Vengeance
Chapter one- Prelude
By Kim
(A/N: Oh what driver education movies can do to you.)
There had been a sudden jerk, a jolt of split second fear. There had been no warning, and no one to blame afterwards. The tree was innocent, as far as anyone could tell, unless trees can just jump out in front of a speeding bus, the tree would be the prime suspect. No evidence was left, except the blood and broken bodies of the innocents. A scene fit for a driver education video. A scene fit for the most morbid of minds, fit for the most horrible of nightmares and a sudden flashback of all that one could hold dear.
A trombone player, a senior in his last year of marching band lay dead, his face nonexistent. Scraped against the shattered window and asphalt was the skin of what should be his nose, a single eye was still hanging by a thread upon his vile face. His jaw hung low too, attached only on the left side, blood and fluids dripped from it and seeped onto his uniform. The three freshmen flutes that sat adjacent from him were slumped over on top of the senior trombone. Their blood mixed with his forming a pool of sudden loss of youth and innocence. One flute however was cushioned by the other two, the other two who had crumpled down before him. He however was in shock; his arm bone stuck out of his arm, his leg was twisted in a very unnatural way.
The band director, Mrs. Herrick, was not inside the bus at all. She lay on the brink of darkness eleven feet from the front of the bus. Through the throbbing pain, she stared upward toward the stars, not even comprehending that she was staring at the sky. All she knew was that she was going to die. Her students, her friends, they were going to die. She felt that warmth of her blood spilling from her mouth, she tasted it too. However, she could not understand that she was bleeding, nor could she understand that she was literally drowning in her own blood. Then silently, the world got very cold and very dark. until the last speck of celestial light had vanished. Then the man with the mangled fingers vanished once more.
"I'll ask you again sir, is that your wife?" The coroner asked.
Sam could not comply, he could not comprehend, nor could he reply.
Was the coroner too thick to realize that this man's pain was a dead giveaway? Did every amount of common sense get sucked out of him? Was he being forced to follow procedure, even if he fully understood the answer? "Is this Lorelei Herrick, you're wife?"
Not those words! Oh the pain and ironic agony of hearing his lively wife's name said by the examiner of death! Sam felt his heart spiral downward infinitely. and eternally.
(A/N: Oh what driver education movies can do to you.)
There had been a sudden jerk, a jolt of split second fear. There had been no warning, and no one to blame afterwards. The tree was innocent, as far as anyone could tell, unless trees can just jump out in front of a speeding bus, the tree would be the prime suspect. No evidence was left, except the blood and broken bodies of the innocents. A scene fit for a driver education video. A scene fit for the most morbid of minds, fit for the most horrible of nightmares and a sudden flashback of all that one could hold dear.
A trombone player, a senior in his last year of marching band lay dead, his face nonexistent. Scraped against the shattered window and asphalt was the skin of what should be his nose, a single eye was still hanging by a thread upon his vile face. His jaw hung low too, attached only on the left side, blood and fluids dripped from it and seeped onto his uniform. The three freshmen flutes that sat adjacent from him were slumped over on top of the senior trombone. Their blood mixed with his forming a pool of sudden loss of youth and innocence. One flute however was cushioned by the other two, the other two who had crumpled down before him. He however was in shock; his arm bone stuck out of his arm, his leg was twisted in a very unnatural way.
The band director, Mrs. Herrick, was not inside the bus at all. She lay on the brink of darkness eleven feet from the front of the bus. Through the throbbing pain, she stared upward toward the stars, not even comprehending that she was staring at the sky. All she knew was that she was going to die. Her students, her friends, they were going to die. She felt that warmth of her blood spilling from her mouth, she tasted it too. However, she could not understand that she was bleeding, nor could she understand that she was literally drowning in her own blood. Then silently, the world got very cold and very dark. until the last speck of celestial light had vanished. Then the man with the mangled fingers vanished once more.
"I'll ask you again sir, is that your wife?" The coroner asked.
Sam could not comply, he could not comprehend, nor could he reply.
Was the coroner too thick to realize that this man's pain was a dead giveaway? Did every amount of common sense get sucked out of him? Was he being forced to follow procedure, even if he fully understood the answer? "Is this Lorelei Herrick, you're wife?"
Not those words! Oh the pain and ironic agony of hearing his lively wife's name said by the examiner of death! Sam felt his heart spiral downward infinitely. and eternally.