Jason closes his eyes, taking in all he has seen, all he has felt. He would
have been somebody, would have saved millions of people, if not for a car
accident. If not for some punk hitting me.
He looks to the crow, speaking directly to it, asking why he was to come back.
The crow kept eye contact with him, not words but images entered his head. He saw, from the crow's perspective, the car coming. He saw himself start to turn but get stopped by the front of the car. The car then moved back, someone got out. He heard swearing from that person, then he motioned for someone in the car to get out and help him. They lifted Jason's body and threw it over the bridge. Then they got back in and drove off.
Tom tried to break the contact between them, but Jason put his hand up and motioned for silence. He never let his eyes gaze away from the crow, waiting for the rest of the story. He saw a newspaper article drifting on the same river his body had been dumped (showing a year and a half later). On the shore somebody was coming out of the water, walking towards the rocks. In the moonlight they were hunched over, swaying as if drunk. They turned, showing it was Jason. He walked along the riverfront towards a fire he saw in the distance.
Jason looked away, not wanting to see more, but the crow squawked, bringing Jason to look around again. A last image was shown to him, of the occupants of the car. They looked familiar to him. The passenger and the boy in the backseat, he has seen them before.
"No.come on, no way.that is just too coincidental!"
Tom paced away from Jason as he moved away from him, the crow lifting and landing on a nearby dumpster. Tom stopped pacing and leaned up against one of the alley's walls, watching Jason as he moved around.
"Those two men I just killed.when they were boys they killed me? Them and the driver.they hit me with their car.and I came back a year-and-a-half later to take vengeance on them.but I didn't, I didn't know where I was, didn't even know I had died.Then they hit another boy, Tom.and if I had done what I was brought back to do then he never would have died."
Tears streaked down Tom's face, looking down at the ground away from Jason. The crow remained silent as realization kicked in for Jason, the first time in 9 ½ years. Realization that he was really dead, that he has been wandering around this whole time trying to find something that wasn't there, that he was suppose to be the Archangel of Death, to kill 3 boys to send himself to heaven, hell, wherever he was suppose to go.
The crow squawked. Tom lifted his head, using his shirt to wipe away the tears. He got off the wall and walked towards Jason. Jason turned, looking down at Tom, then dropped to a knee and gave him a hug. Tears fell from both of their eyes as they cried in each others arms, not minding the passerbys that looked at them, thinking them to be crazy.
Stars twinkled and passed in the night sky before either stopped. Looking at each other, Jason stood up and came to the crow.
"Show me where he is?"
A sparkle shined in the crow's eye, then an image and a name showed up in Jason's and Tom's mind: Steve Cappini, and a picture of a huge house, metal fence, the address 1225 Cornwell Street.
The image had just left their minds when the crow got up and started to fly out of the alleyway, and head south.
"Let's go Tom," Jason said to him.
"Will we be going home soon, really home, back to my mom?"
Jason hesitated at first, not sure if he should bring his hopes up. "Yes, we will be home soon, you to your mom, me to whatever is destined for me."
They left the alley way, made their way down the street, walked several blocks before they turned right, headed east.
About a mile down the road they stopped underneath a tree that overhung the sidewalk.
The crow was on top of a metal pole, at the address 1225 Cornwell Street. It was looking around. Jason closed his eyes, letting himself see what the crow was seeing: guards. They were carrying guns with them, some handguns; others were carrying semi-automatics.
'Who was this guy?' Jason thought, and the crow responded: It showed him a headline, an older paper, or a man dying, Joseph Cappini, mafia hitman.
This is his son?!?!?
A squawk confirmed this as the crow left the pole and came to rest in the tree above them.
This ought to be interesting. They were going to break into a mobster's house and kill one of them, then expect to come back.
They looked at each other, Tom and Jason, and with acknowledgement in their eyes, they left the comfort of the tree and crossed the street towards the final chapter of their story together.
He looks to the crow, speaking directly to it, asking why he was to come back.
The crow kept eye contact with him, not words but images entered his head. He saw, from the crow's perspective, the car coming. He saw himself start to turn but get stopped by the front of the car. The car then moved back, someone got out. He heard swearing from that person, then he motioned for someone in the car to get out and help him. They lifted Jason's body and threw it over the bridge. Then they got back in and drove off.
Tom tried to break the contact between them, but Jason put his hand up and motioned for silence. He never let his eyes gaze away from the crow, waiting for the rest of the story. He saw a newspaper article drifting on the same river his body had been dumped (showing a year and a half later). On the shore somebody was coming out of the water, walking towards the rocks. In the moonlight they were hunched over, swaying as if drunk. They turned, showing it was Jason. He walked along the riverfront towards a fire he saw in the distance.
Jason looked away, not wanting to see more, but the crow squawked, bringing Jason to look around again. A last image was shown to him, of the occupants of the car. They looked familiar to him. The passenger and the boy in the backseat, he has seen them before.
"No.come on, no way.that is just too coincidental!"
Tom paced away from Jason as he moved away from him, the crow lifting and landing on a nearby dumpster. Tom stopped pacing and leaned up against one of the alley's walls, watching Jason as he moved around.
"Those two men I just killed.when they were boys they killed me? Them and the driver.they hit me with their car.and I came back a year-and-a-half later to take vengeance on them.but I didn't, I didn't know where I was, didn't even know I had died.Then they hit another boy, Tom.and if I had done what I was brought back to do then he never would have died."
Tears streaked down Tom's face, looking down at the ground away from Jason. The crow remained silent as realization kicked in for Jason, the first time in 9 ½ years. Realization that he was really dead, that he has been wandering around this whole time trying to find something that wasn't there, that he was suppose to be the Archangel of Death, to kill 3 boys to send himself to heaven, hell, wherever he was suppose to go.
The crow squawked. Tom lifted his head, using his shirt to wipe away the tears. He got off the wall and walked towards Jason. Jason turned, looking down at Tom, then dropped to a knee and gave him a hug. Tears fell from both of their eyes as they cried in each others arms, not minding the passerbys that looked at them, thinking them to be crazy.
Stars twinkled and passed in the night sky before either stopped. Looking at each other, Jason stood up and came to the crow.
"Show me where he is?"
A sparkle shined in the crow's eye, then an image and a name showed up in Jason's and Tom's mind: Steve Cappini, and a picture of a huge house, metal fence, the address 1225 Cornwell Street.
The image had just left their minds when the crow got up and started to fly out of the alleyway, and head south.
"Let's go Tom," Jason said to him.
"Will we be going home soon, really home, back to my mom?"
Jason hesitated at first, not sure if he should bring his hopes up. "Yes, we will be home soon, you to your mom, me to whatever is destined for me."
They left the alley way, made their way down the street, walked several blocks before they turned right, headed east.
About a mile down the road they stopped underneath a tree that overhung the sidewalk.
The crow was on top of a metal pole, at the address 1225 Cornwell Street. It was looking around. Jason closed his eyes, letting himself see what the crow was seeing: guards. They were carrying guns with them, some handguns; others were carrying semi-automatics.
'Who was this guy?' Jason thought, and the crow responded: It showed him a headline, an older paper, or a man dying, Joseph Cappini, mafia hitman.
This is his son?!?!?
A squawk confirmed this as the crow left the pole and came to rest in the tree above them.
This ought to be interesting. They were going to break into a mobster's house and kill one of them, then expect to come back.
They looked at each other, Tom and Jason, and with acknowledgement in their eyes, they left the comfort of the tree and crossed the street towards the final chapter of their story together.