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I Sing the Devil's Song
#WritcoStoryPrompt47
Write a story based on this famous excerpt from Revival by Stephen King:
He unlocked a door and led me through an office that was empty of furniture, although I could still see square clean patches on the grimy linoleum, where the legs of a desk had once stood. On the wall was a curling calendar with April 1989 showing.
You like playing chess? He asked, oh no I'm not sure about the moves I replied nervously. It's 2007 Mr. Bradley, looking at the calendar I asked. Oh yes, but April 1989 was the birth year of my conscience.
It was strange hearing this. Your conscience? What shakes you so much may I please know. While asking this I looked around the walls it was giving me the vibes of some intense Hollywood movies, painted off white coloured with a small Schindler looming over, that it will speak any moment.
I was a great follower of Lenin Ms. Neena and Hiltler and Mussolini I tried to walked on there footsteps. I was quiet for a moment after hearing this and so was the room. But my curiosity aroused me to ask next question. So what happened Mr. Bradley what changed you? He stood quiet and after scratching his small beards he said I was the author in my early 20's extra ordinary and ahead of time. He was silent again like he still regrets something. I poked him again so what happened then. At the time of bombing on Hiroshima Ms
Neena I was there after the incident I went into my subconscious mind. I was always awake but never present, always ready but never focused. For 35 years my subconscious mind attacked me every day.
How close you were to the city Mr. Bradley I asked. Well Ms. Neena enough to
avoid the aftermath. But I saw what know eyes would wanted to see. His face went black while telling the Stories like he was hiding something and was in pain excruciating. Anyway he continued, I was 7 years of age when first world war took place first time in life I experience the price of freedom can be so high. Although I didn't lost anyone but everyone except me lost everything in my land. Animals lost their calves, human lost their infant and soil of my land lost it's fertility. As the time passes on everything got normal except my brain. I was in the second year of my college when I first wrote my book.
What kind of book it was Mr. Bradley, for a moment I thought he's still living in his subconscious mind. No one knows about it why? Ms. Neena I am waiting that you will asked me what happened in April 1989 he replied. Please tell me sir I am eager to know what happened to you. After all those years of war and aftermath I decided to go to Nepal the land of monks as this was the last hope for my mind to get stable. For 8 years I was with them and finally got peace and regained my conscience. Even after the wars, or after what I saw in Japan my thoughts for living in the shoes of those leaders was never ending thing. But my crimes are far more cruel than them. Your crime? I asked . Yes, Ms. Neena my crimes. Would you like to share with me Mr. Bradley. For a moment it felt like the whole street is silent, that there is no one in the entire town. Mr. Bradley, he looked at me and cried like a 7 seven years old baby is crying. I wrote a book which inspired my people so much that it led to the destruction of world in second world war and the thought I presented to destroy the atoms to its dust cause the incident of the bombing. My idea was just to make the world a better place I helped in writing the formulas of destruction. As my book got published the leaders of my land started worshipping me as they thought these ideas cannot be come from a human mind. For many years I was given the higher honor in the country until I was appointed as a guest facility to watch the live bombing in Japan, I was excited and happy and overjoyed. I was placed in a countryside before the bombing to look my creation,to feel what I am going to give to this word. When I write those thoughts I knew it I just sang the devil's song but was unaware about the results.
For many years after the incident I stayed in that village so that I can regret,so that I can take all of their pains. The time had other way of teaching me the lessons. I know my crimes are unforgiven but my regrets are high Ms. Neena. I was quiet, I just stood up and left the crying man on his own.
© Fareed Ahmad khan
Write a story based on this famous excerpt from Revival by Stephen King:
He unlocked a door and led me through an office that was empty of furniture, although I could still see square clean patches on the grimy linoleum, where the legs of a desk had once stood. On the wall was a curling calendar with April 1989 showing.
You like playing chess? He asked, oh no I'm not sure about the moves I replied nervously. It's 2007 Mr. Bradley, looking at the calendar I asked. Oh yes, but April 1989 was the birth year of my conscience.
It was strange hearing this. Your conscience? What shakes you so much may I please know. While asking this I looked around the walls it was giving me the vibes of some intense Hollywood movies, painted off white coloured with a small Schindler looming over, that it will speak any moment.
I was a great follower of Lenin Ms. Neena and Hiltler and Mussolini I tried to walked on there footsteps. I was quiet for a moment after hearing this and so was the room. But my curiosity aroused me to ask next question. So what happened Mr. Bradley what changed you? He stood quiet and after scratching his small beards he said I was the author in my early 20's extra ordinary and ahead of time. He was silent again like he still regrets something. I poked him again so what happened then. At the time of bombing on Hiroshima Ms
Neena I was there after the incident I went into my subconscious mind. I was always awake but never present, always ready but never focused. For 35 years my subconscious mind attacked me every day.
How close you were to the city Mr. Bradley I asked. Well Ms. Neena enough to
avoid the aftermath. But I saw what know eyes would wanted to see. His face went black while telling the Stories like he was hiding something and was in pain excruciating. Anyway he continued, I was 7 years of age when first world war took place first time in life I experience the price of freedom can be so high. Although I didn't lost anyone but everyone except me lost everything in my land. Animals lost their calves, human lost their infant and soil of my land lost it's fertility. As the time passes on everything got normal except my brain. I was in the second year of my college when I first wrote my book.
What kind of book it was Mr. Bradley, for a moment I thought he's still living in his subconscious mind. No one knows about it why? Ms. Neena I am waiting that you will asked me what happened in April 1989 he replied. Please tell me sir I am eager to know what happened to you. After all those years of war and aftermath I decided to go to Nepal the land of monks as this was the last hope for my mind to get stable. For 8 years I was with them and finally got peace and regained my conscience. Even after the wars, or after what I saw in Japan my thoughts for living in the shoes of those leaders was never ending thing. But my crimes are far more cruel than them. Your crime? I asked . Yes, Ms. Neena my crimes. Would you like to share with me Mr. Bradley. For a moment it felt like the whole street is silent, that there is no one in the entire town. Mr. Bradley, he looked at me and cried like a 7 seven years old baby is crying. I wrote a book which inspired my people so much that it led to the destruction of world in second world war and the thought I presented to destroy the atoms to its dust cause the incident of the bombing. My idea was just to make the world a better place I helped in writing the formulas of destruction. As my book got published the leaders of my land started worshipping me as they thought these ideas cannot be come from a human mind. For many years I was given the higher honor in the country until I was appointed as a guest facility to watch the live bombing in Japan, I was excited and happy and overjoyed. I was placed in a countryside before the bombing to look my creation,to feel what I am going to give to this word. When I write those thoughts I knew it I just sang the devil's song but was unaware about the results.
For many years after the incident I stayed in that village so that I can regret,so that I can take all of their pains. The time had other way of teaching me the lessons. I know my crimes are unforgiven but my regrets are high Ms. Neena. I was quiet, I just stood up and left the crying man on his own.
© Fareed Ahmad khan
