Another snippet of something, one day to make a whole

“I’m going to have to arrest you” casually informed the smartly dressed officer, sitting next to Edgar without invitation “and for the courtesy I’ll take a large glass of something and a second glass for him” reaching for a credit chip from some random side pocket in the smartly pressed trousers he wore, three pockets later along with several clumps of dust in the process “that reminds me; you’ll have to give me your gun too” the barman taking time away from wiping up some blood that had been recently added the bar top to produce two drinks.

Edgar idly raised his hand, slowly using the other one to lower three fingers and the thumb and left the gesture there on public display as he proceeded to throw the drink down his throat “I’ll take a walk with you” nodding with minimal effort towards the poignantly lingering gesture “but that’s my reply to giving you ol’faithful” a slight sigh released as he casually flicked a stray tooth at the barman, who paused his frustratedly focused cleaning efforts to just glare in Edgar’s direction “this glass is defective, I need a new one”.

The barman slammed a bottle with a resounding thud onto the bar, the patrons within range winching in reaction to the sound but it was telling of the crowds energetic nature that no one bothered lifting their heads “This is you sober” as having got Edgar’s full attention he gestured with a hand at the smudged and streaky red marks on the bar top, furiously waving a pinkish cloth in Edgar’s face too “and this is my afternoon treat” the hand that pointed out the red marks moving in the direction of the officer to Edgar’s left “and that is going to make it worse” agitatedly switching from generic hand gesturing to actively pointing to a trio of gentleman who had just walked in “so drink the fuck up and be arrested already” a temperamental tone to challenge the coldness of ice.

The officer had meanwhile opened the rather poignantly presented bottle and poured himself another glass of generic alcohol, taking time to drink it in-between scanning looks around the room “Someone hit the AC, cause someone just turned the heating up” noting the presence of, without directly looking at, the trio of smartly suited gentleman blocking the bars prime exit “and I agree with the barman” flicking a momentary smile towards no particular person “you sober; bad news”.

Edgar turned his head towards the three new additions to the bar, his stonily blank face remaining unchanged as only his quick scanning sharp eyes showed activity “You fellows playing statues or are you going to give us a show” Edgar observantly picking out the vital details of each man, humorously noting that each had a different tie; lacky one wore a horrific purple one with some deranged flower design so was mentally labelled ‘Mr Purple’, lackey two showing surprising style with a subtle red stripped affair to match his tailored dark grey shirt and black suit, now labelled ‘Mr Stylish’ and then to the last; the head of the bunch proudly puffing out his gym worthy chest that was tightly encased in a classic black suit, white shirt and slim lined black tie as Edgar mentally labelled him ‘Black Tie’.

Black Tie spoke after an eternity of staring at the duo of Edgar and his officer friend, both men maybe picking up a hint of frustration in his voice “So you messed up my employees dental job, nose too” eyes aimed upwards as he silently mouthed something “oh yes that’s it; and you knocked him half stupid” the lackeys grunting together in some macho demonstration of power, seemingly backing up their bosses loudly projected tone “and now I need to resolve the matter in a fashion befitting the events here as…”

Black tie had stopped mid-sentence, his eyes now locked with focused glare at Edgar’s puppet motioning hand “Shut up preacher, we get the sermon” taking his merry time between rude interruptions to offer up an open glass to the officer, who reactively filled it on cue “and if he is half stupid now, your definition is infinitely more optimistic than mine” Edgar draining his glass with painfully drawn out slowness as he again interrupted Black Tie’s attempt to speak with a raised hand this time “and lastly; I’m about to be arrested so move” now rifling through his pockets to fish something out, Edgar defiantly ignoring Black Tie’s increasingly agitated reaction whilst flashing a perversely cheery looking smile.

Mr Purple stepped in front of Black Tie on command, taking the time it took to cover the few metres distance between him and Edgar to reveal an large ugly blaster, the engorged design more reminiscent of a starship engine component than a streamlined weapon “You want to make fun of my friend, be the big man and taunt my boss like some circus freak” a severely twisted grin forming on Mr Purple’s taut facial features as he worded another increasingly angry blast “not circus freak cause that’s too normal, let’s say ‘harbinger’ cause they so fucked they…” the following silence was followed by a telling slump noise, Mr Purple’s carcass now awkwardly lain out on the floor as a gargled mix of blood and froth escaped his mouth with a painfully stammered cough.

Edgar kept his drawn weapon dead focused on the two remaining thugs, so purposely slow to climb off his barstool that the officer had time to covertly check his watch, Edgar now bullet straight and with a haze of black mist beginning to fill his eyes “The devil ain’t happy when you insult his work, so unless you want to look uglier than that attempt at a tie design Mr Purple was wearing” a perverse smirk forming as ill humour mixed with controlling rage in Edgar’s pounding head “and your boss ain’t going to be happy that you went and beat on the gates of hell like you did” gun fixated in Black Tie’s direction, a more dangerously fixated glare aimed at Mr Stylish which was subduing the rapidly whitening figure now hunching back into a corner.

Black Tie’s puffed chest was now constricted, an edge of readiness in the hand lingering near his gun and nervously poised to react as with a distinctly measured manner he spoke very slowly “My colleague was out of term” examining Edgar’s features closely for any slight response, letting out a relieved but stunted breath upon seeing no further reaction “and I think you said what all of us were thinking about that tie” forced laughter stifled in length and volume as he attempted to use humour to diffuse the threateningly escalated confrontation, Black Tie further attempting to deescalate it by distancing his hand at a deliberately calm pace from his sheathed gun “I’m going to call my boss and we’ll sort it out without further violence” such a strict turnaround from macho posturing to reserved calm fuelling the whole bar’s newly hushed air of suspended fear.

The officer stood, bottle in hand and gun sheathed “Edgar you need to listen to me” speaking as deliberately calm as Black Tie to the purely black eyed Edgar, mildly pulsating black veins evident where his skin was visible “you are in a combat induced state and you need alcohol to restore your control” adding with even more passively calm tones, only showing slight signs of the frightened panic screaming in his head “you are a person and not a harbinger, this is not a battlefield” the officer’s training, kicking in with mounting efficiency to further settle his forcible restrained manner, the officer knowing painfully well that when a harbinger ‘black blooded’ as the common lingo called it, that it would take a lot more than a couple of stun shots to take them down

Into the fretfully settled chaos a new figure entered the bar with careful pace, so not to set off the hair trigger situation threateningly ready to explode “I see my employees are not only stupid but full blown delinquents” the man confidently staring down the combat ready Edgar with unnerving steel, a beeline towards the bar to help himself to an abandoned drink as he casually nursed the glass in his hand, before taking a leisurely sip with seemingly unnatural coolness “and I must apologize my old friend, my man was told to ‘politely’ invite you to my office but I gauge he may have overstepped” a subtle nod with his eerily still features towards the still remnant blood smear on the bar as with a curious smirk he readily recollected “this is like the last time we met up for a drink, but I distinctly recall an easy blonde and two bottles of something bitterly strong were involved” the strangers remark making absolutely everyone breathe a sigh of relief, as the taught posture of Edgar’s rage induced state softened slightly.

“Well you told the blondes husband I had lured her over” Edgar’s characteristically wry delivery returning with pace now “and told me she was single” Edgar’s eyes returning to their still white colour, piecing rings of red to outline cold black pupils “and I’ve got a guiltily empty hand so I might need that bottle to fill it” a slight gesture towards the officer, whose quickly reactive instincts put the offered bottle in Edgar’s tight grip.

The new man on the scene was wearing an emblazoned red shirt, expertly tailored suit long coat and an oddly stylish pair of combat trousers and with a more energetic flare he witfully added “That blonde was single the moment we entered the bar, and her other half” musingly looking down at Purple Tie, crinkled lines forming at the edge of his vicious grin “the husband at least lasted two rounds longer than my employees” as with a gesture he guided Edgar towards a shadowy corner booth, two fresh glasses in hand to perfectly match the bottle Edgar now held.

Black Tie and Mr Stylish coolly removed Purple Tie’s slouched corpse with some loudly huffed exertion, the officer offering a respectful salute to Red Shirt and Edgar before confidently swaggering out of the bar as easily as he entered. The Barman idle returning to his cleaning duties, another eventful day on a god forbidden colony barely enough to stir the drunken patrons thirsting for more liquid escapism.

To Become Death; In The Pursuit Of Life

Love; the great saviour

Love; the great deceiver

We pursue the sacred feeling through every blackened, burnt out and hellish landscape we know but is it really a cure?

The blindly devout follower of positive instinct in me craves it, lusts for a safely redeeming hint of that sweet escape from reality’s damnation

The passionately dark Sharman of truth casts the word as a curse, a dangerously infectious idea that blinds it’s prey with merciless efficiency before the strike

I want to believe it will remedy my ills with a soothing malaise of healing calm, the ice to violently supress the volcano of negatively emotive feelings that burn my very skin with depressive pain

But the devoutly truthful Sharman’s words strike with as much painful regret as love’s own dagger, each a kindred in terms of purest power and impact upon my fractured state

Where the blade ends and my flesh starts twistedly merges into unholy mess, wilful offering of my body into the trap the most bitterly felt betrayal as poison metal makes it’s home amongst the other daggers protruding from my back

How I long to see the reassuringly red flecks of life proudly interrupting the black oily substance flowing through my veins, such endless nothing now so strong as to take physical form, and the truly disturbing reality that stems from this bleak realisation…

When the venomous black ooze spills from my wounded flesh, acidic smoke as it eats into the most hardened veneer of honest innocence; that I am the cause of the very much resented suffering that I have vowed to never cause

Love; the great saviour

Love; the great deceiver

In my broken, fractured and blackened state how would I even know how to tell which statement is truth, and which verse is merely a self-protecting lie