The legacy Sample Chapter : Splash of Sunset News

The legacy Sample Chapter

by matthew winn on 07/05/20

Chapter One

The Iceman Cometh

 

 

We are all placed upon this earth for a specific reason. It is up to each and every one of us to determine what that reason is, to pursue it and to practice it for the sole purpose of benefitting the bigger picture. The Grand Design if you will.

No matter what your personal beliefs, be they light, dark or in between, we all serve a Master. We all capitulate to being lesser beings unworthy of this earth. And each of us strives throughout our entire lives to end up spending eternity someplace else. It’s human nature. Deep down, even the atheist believes in something when the end draws near.

Standing at the precipice of life a silver haired man contemplated his role in the Grand Design while weighing the sins of his many decades on this earth. Had he paid enough forward to negate any of the evil he had committed? It wasnt that he was a bad man to the core, he had just done some very bad things. He wasn’t ready to leave this earth before discovering his purpose.

He could feel the sniper's cold, deadly eye piercing the back of his skull. He didn't need to be able to see the assassin to know he was there just the same. He could feel him. Being a cold blooded killer himself for more years than he could remember he was quite attuned to the fact he had now become a target. Cold sweat trickled down the back of his leathery neck, saturating his collar. He shuddered once as an icy wind blew across his nape.

            A part of him seethed in anger. He had been an operative for long enough and he felt he had earned a certain level of immunity from the inevitable. If for nothing more than out of respect for his work and for what he had accomplished in his many years with the Brotherhood. He was sixty-eight years old for Christ's sake. What purpose would it serve by killing him now?

            Another, more logical part of him was well aware of the secrets contained in his gray matter that was but mere seconds away from being scrambled by a speeding chunk of heartless lead. He knew all too well why he had become a threat and a danger to the security of the Brotherhood. Deep inside, he had always known this eventuality would come.

            He stood atop Sugarloaf Mountain gazing out across the great expanse of Lake Superior. Small islands encrusted in winter’s icy grip dotted the harbor down below. Although the bite of winter had relinquished its grip on the trolls down below the bridge, up here in the vast wilderness it was still hanging on by tooth, fang and claw. He watched as waves crashed over the tiny islands frosting them with a little more whiteness as each wave receded. Nothing was more calming or more soothing than the violence of the lake. It was pure chaos, but it still had rules, it still had order even in that chaos.

            “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned, and sinned again,” he prayed to an entity he had forsaken for most of his adult life. 

He took off his Stormy Kromer, slipped it into his pocket and then flipped his jacket collar down to expose the sweet spot. He said a quick prayer for his son, the only family he had ever truly loved in this world.

“Goodnight Tiger, I hope this world treats you well,” he commented to the wind. His only regret in life was not being there for his son when he needed him the most.

The crashing sounds of the waves against the rocky shoreline drifted up from two thousand feet below. Black clouds had invaded the horizon and swallowed the sun, leaving a dark, cold hole. A lone gull cried an eerie melody while drifting on the wind like a surfer glides effortlessly across the sea. Funny, decades of life on this planet and he had never really noticed these things. 

A few breaths later it came. It really felt like nothing more than a little pinch but he knew that was because his spinal cord had been severed by the compassionate aim of his assassin.

            A warm, seeping fluid saturated his collar. The stain spread far enough down his shirt for him to see the finality of his life before gasping for his last breath. With his dying breath he thanked the sniper for being the consummate professional. There was no pain, only an all-encompassing darkness. He had always wondered what hell would be like, now he had his chance to find out first hand.

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