Disclaimer - This story is non-profit, and is not in any way intended to infringe on the rights of the Hallmark channel. Sadly I don't own anything. Summary –
Dedicated to anyone who reads this and gives me feedback :-P
Warnings – Just a little ficlet, kinda sad, has descriptions of people burning, that's about as strong as it gets. It's not even necessarily associated with the Magnificent Seven; I just needed names and a background to work with, oh, and feedback please
Forsaken
God has forsaken me.
He has taken my life without ending it.
He's ripped out my heart without stopping it,
Murdered my soul while cruelly allowing my body to live.
Why?
Were I a sinful man, my punishment would seem fitting. But it seems God is the sinner, and I the victim on the cross, crucified in the scalding blood of my wife and son.
I remember the flames, the smoke, the sickeningly sweet smell of burning flesh.
Screaming, I remember screaming. My wife, my son. They probably screamed as the fire ate them. I didn't hear it, but it echoed in my head through my own cries as I arrived too late to save them.
I can still hear it. Them. Calling out to be saved, railing against me for not saving them, shrieking in pain as their flesh burns from their bones.
I've tuned it out.
I'm empty. It's like I've been hollowed out by fire. My righteous rage at a callous God has burned away everything else.
All I have is my hate.
I hire myself out now. Just a hired gun selling a piece of my soul with every transaction.
I see God in every nameless person I set my sights on. When I kill, it's God I'm aiming at.
I used to know how loud a gunshot was. I used to hear it. But now every time my finger touches the trigger all I can hear is Fire. And screams.
The screams never stop.
Sometimes it gets hard not to listen. Not to give in to my agony mirrored in the screams of my family. It's hard. But all I have to do is take on a job, and the screams of my victims drown out my family. For a while.
I didn't used to be a sinful man, but it seems I've become one. Maybe now I've earned God's punishment.
God has forsaken me. But that doesn't matter anymore.
I've forsaken him.
End
Dedicated to anyone who reads this and gives me feedback :-P
Warnings – Just a little ficlet, kinda sad, has descriptions of people burning, that's about as strong as it gets. It's not even necessarily associated with the Magnificent Seven; I just needed names and a background to work with, oh, and feedback please
Forsaken
God has forsaken me.
He has taken my life without ending it.
He's ripped out my heart without stopping it,
Murdered my soul while cruelly allowing my body to live.
Why?
Were I a sinful man, my punishment would seem fitting. But it seems God is the sinner, and I the victim on the cross, crucified in the scalding blood of my wife and son.
I remember the flames, the smoke, the sickeningly sweet smell of burning flesh.
Screaming, I remember screaming. My wife, my son. They probably screamed as the fire ate them. I didn't hear it, but it echoed in my head through my own cries as I arrived too late to save them.
I can still hear it. Them. Calling out to be saved, railing against me for not saving them, shrieking in pain as their flesh burns from their bones.
I've tuned it out.
I'm empty. It's like I've been hollowed out by fire. My righteous rage at a callous God has burned away everything else.
All I have is my hate.
I hire myself out now. Just a hired gun selling a piece of my soul with every transaction.
I see God in every nameless person I set my sights on. When I kill, it's God I'm aiming at.
I used to know how loud a gunshot was. I used to hear it. But now every time my finger touches the trigger all I can hear is Fire. And screams.
The screams never stop.
Sometimes it gets hard not to listen. Not to give in to my agony mirrored in the screams of my family. It's hard. But all I have to do is take on a job, and the screams of my victims drown out my family. For a while.
I didn't used to be a sinful man, but it seems I've become one. Maybe now I've earned God's punishment.
God has forsaken me. But that doesn't matter anymore.
I've forsaken him.
End