Unscathed - The Bearded Man

di 28 juni 2011 14:35:09

He just stood there, watching. The bearded man I had seen several times the past week, every single time something happened in my surroundings. Like the time that a bomb blew up the incoming train I was supposed to take, like the time I nearly got caught up in a riot and the police shot and killed over forty people. I can certainly not forget the moment where my concert was interrupted by a group of so-called "revolutionaries" who demanded the release of one of their own. Eighteen people died that night, yet I was still alive.

Now he was there again, observing with his grey eyes, his dark brown beard where birds could seem to nestle in, it was just so thick. My fearful glances toward his ever gazing and peering eyes, while he stood there, doing nothing. No show of emotion as I could feel my body being beaten to a bloody pulp by men who seemed to have lost their wits, their compassion for their fellow human beings.

The bearded man kept on watching as they broke my legs, took away my beloved fingers with whom I had played the piano for so long. I shall miss them dearly.

While they continued on breaking my arms into tiny little pieces, I could not help but wonder who this bearded man was. Through the pain and my screams I could still see him, my eyes fixated on that otherworldly sight of a man who should not be there. His face was obscured by his grey hood, yet I could still see his eyes, those damn eternal eyes.

They were done with my arms and legs, the pain was blinding, but in my mind’s eye I could see the bearded man. Is he the one to take me away to the next life? Is he the Grim Reaper? If so, what a strange visage to take when visiting the nearly deceased. Of course, being taken away by a beautiful woman would be too much to ask in a situation like this.

What am I thinking? I don’t want to die, I want to live, and I’ve got so much left to do!

Yet he still stands there as I feel their boots and fists reach my spine, slowly moving upwards to my shoulder blades. Every bone in my body is being broken by their seemingly superhuman strength. Ribs crack, my spine is slowly being shattered from the waist down. It’s a miracle I am still alive, I can still think. I can still feel the bearded man’s gaze burn into my now closed eyes.

I try to move my fractured arms, but I feel no response. I can no longer feel my legs as my spine has been completely destroyed. With every beating I feel pieces of my ribs slowly grinding into my internal organs. It won’t be long now until my life-force will finally run out.

Relentlessly they continue to beat me, bludgeon me. The force of their blows will have undoubtedly changed my body into a bloody pulp, unrecognizable as a human being. A quick boot to my neck and I feel the final bit of pain I will ever feel again. My spinal cord has now completely been severed from my head. I am amazed I am still alive.

I try to look one more time, as tears are stinging my eyes and my blood has slowly made its way out of my mouth and nose, but he is no longer there. Maybe he was nothing more but a hallucination, or a bum who had seen enough. Maybe he was their leader, ordered this ferocious pack of savage humans to attack me and ultimately kill me. Maybe, just maybe, he was calling for help, this unknown bearded man with his eternally grey eyes.

Suddenly the beating stopped.

I felt I could let go now, but then I somehow heard a voice inside my head.

“You are not done just yet, stay alive“.

I kept holding on as I felt the last sliver of life trying to get away from me, when I suddenly felt my entire body again. The pain was gone, I could move neck, feel my shoulder blades, I could bend my spine, felt no ribs as I breathed in warm hot air with all the joy of a fourth grader receiving a new toy. I could even move my arms and legs. I could even see that my fingers are still there.

I turned over, looked around, as I saw the bearded man stand amidst a pile of broken bodies. The bodies, I instantly saw, were those of the men who attacked me in their blind rage.

Who is this man?

And then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

I was left alone, next to a pile of bodies, sitting in a pool of my own blood.