13 Comments

The Assistant

After holding the Bible in his hands for a moment, he placed it on the table next to the gun.

“A Bible?  Are you kidding me?” said the man in black as he returned to the table.  “That’s the coward’s way out!  If God cared about you, why would you have lost your family?  If he really existed, why do you hurt right now?  Your son was a fool to leave this for you.  It changes nothing!  A Bible can’t bring your family back.  A Bible can’t heal the pain!”

He knelt and put a hand on William’s shoulder. “But the gun can… pick it up.  No more wasting time with all this crying. Nothing else can save you.  Splatter your brains on the wall with your wife’s, and you can join her in Hell. That’s where you belong… that’s what you deserve. It’s too late for you, it’s too late to change your life.  End it now!  Pick it up!”

He leaned into William’s face.

“The gun… GET IT!  Now!  Stop thinking about it, you worthless piece of trash!  Stop the pain, stop your existence!  Do it!  DO IT!”

William convulsed again.  His body rocked with sobs and his hand reached for the gun.

The man threw his arms in the air and laughed.  “YES!  Do it!  Put it to your head!  Blow away the pain!  Blow away your sorrows!”

William’s shaking arm bent and the barrel moved to his temple.

“That’s it… yes,” the man hissed in ecstasy. “Death, sweet death.  Do it! DO IT!”

Suddenly, William held his breath and stopped trembling.  The gun settled into place on the side of his head.

The man in black started to dance around the table, laughing.

William took a deep steadying breath… then slammed the gun back to the table.  His hands went for the Bible.

“NOOOO!” the man screamed, rushing to William’s side.  “What are you doing?  Put that down!”

William opened it to the bookmark left there by his son.

“Stop this!  This won’t help, put it down!  NOW!  The gun… get the gun!”

He started reading.

The man in black put his hands to his head and roared.  “NO!  Don’t do this!  You can’t… you can’t… you’re mine!  Put it down!”

Four more men stepped out of the shadows. They wore white t-shirts and pants that hinted at powerful muscles hiding beneath.  Their radiant faces and piercing blue eyes scanned the room for only a moment, before they stepped toward the table.

The man in black hissed and backed away.  “Leave him alone… he’s mine!”

The four men took positions around William, ignoring the man in black.

The man drifted back to the shadows from which he emerged, his face pale and twisted with hate. “You can’t do this!  He’s supposed to be mine!”

As the man in black disappeared, William slid out of his chair to his knees…

Praying.

 


This is a work of fiction. All the characters, events, and locations portrayed are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2011 Keven Newsome. All rights reserved.

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About Keven Newsome

Keven Newsome is an author, musician, and theologian. With a music degree from William Carey University and a theology degree from the New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, Keven has actively served in ministry as both pastor and worship leader. He is the author of the Winter series: Winter, Prophetess, Acolyte, and Mantle. This supernatural thriller series has been an award finalist for multiple awards. His short stories can be found in the Aquasynthesis anthology and Avenir Eclectia Vol. 1. He is also the author of We Are One, a non-fictional study on generational ministry (published as KW Newsome). Though originally from south Mississippi, Keven now lives in Camden, South Carolina with his wife and children.

13 comments on “The Assistant

  1. my dearest Kevin,

    very powerful scenario!

  2. I feel like I’m showing bias by posting a comment here, since I got to preview the story :). But, gonna say it anyway: Good job, Keven!

  3. Remind me again why you picked me to joing this group, Keven?
    .
    .
    .
    .
    .
    The posts lately…….

  4. Not sure why you insisted on the music. I think it would be better and stronger without the distraction of that repetitive noise. Good story though.

    • For me music heightens the experience. I can’t write effectively unless I have music playing. And I often plug earbuds in while I read. I wanted to present this story as an experiment to see how others viewed the integration of music and printed words.

      Of course, I am a musician. So maybe that explains it.

      • Music inspires me, but usually when reading or writing the only kind of music I can listen to are those without lyrics such as what you gave us a link to.

        It certainly did heighten the experience for me, that’s for sure.

  5. I am the exact opposite when I write. . I like the silence. For this, I simply turned the music down to a whisper. Great job, Iguana.

    • I prefer silence when I write too. I listened to the music because Keven asked me to, but I turned it off when it got so repetitive and annoying. LOL The end of the story was so much better without the noise. But I’m sure there are more people who like music and feel like Keven does about it being “enhancing” than there are people like me who can’t multi-task. I’m not a music hater, but I only listen in the car, and only if I know where I’m going (if I’m lost, the music is the first thing I shut off, then I threaten passengers) . I have very narrow tastes in what I like too. Has to be CD, not radio, because radio has too many songs I don’t like and no “skip” feature.

  6. I’m crying like a baby, and I have the music turned up. It repeats but it changes, too, like the tempo of the story. Most excellent. You just have to keep pushing that envelope, don’t you?

    Thank you for sharing, Iguana.

  7. Well done. Very chilling.

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