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Insane Winds

by William L. Truax III 8 months ago in fantasy

Life or Death

Insane Winds from the southeast blew in a man who looked like he belonged in some circus sideshow from long since pass. His eyes were bulging out while his arms tanned and well worked were the size of an English Alter Boy. Lips were pink and tight, seemed, as he looked, as though he wore makeup there. The remainder of his face was off, one his left side it looked normal as to where his right was beaten and seemed sunken at places. Outside of that, his body for the most part looked normal and nothing as he stood there in the doorway to Tuns Tavern seemed a bit odd to the barkeep.

Insane Winds, as so it appeared to the barkeep, were usually responsible for bringing in the ones who could not find a place to rest for the night. His door was always open to those without, but with had to pay to stay. The man waked up to the keep on hobbled leg and knuckle knees, with one look at the hunch on the man back, he knew that this man was not one for society norms. No Godly hotel or bar would allow this type of riffraff, but here this man was welcome and pointed on so by those at other well refined establishments.

Here the man, as Insane Winds brought, stood fast, tall as he could, placing a hand onto the island and asked:

“Can you keep me for a night or longer?”

His voice was deep, dark, but homely, it, as to the barkeep, was like a bulldozer speech demon, but novel in some ways that here he too reminded him of an old world that was alluring. The barkeep turned to the man who came in on Insane Winds and nodded saying:

“Here you may rest if you need my friend, my door is open to the poor, ravaged and decrypted. I have no quarter against you and wish for happiness to you. Here is your key,” the barkeep slid across the island a set of keys for room 108 and smiled, “Your Insane Winds is at the welcome.”

The man who came in on Insane Winds only smiled and lifted the keys, placed them into the open pocket on his shirt and walked to the stairs and disappeared into the darkening stairwell.

The barkeep’s smile faded into depression as tears fell down his face. It was like the man who blew into his void of Insane Winds was waiting, jaded, faded, longing for touch but unsure how to go about getting it. It was to him, as the barkeep thought, Hell is Not HOT. But how to the man does he think, the barkeep wondered, what was his stretch? Shall he be the one to take control of the reins of this establishment and allow the old man at the bar to retire with a smile?

His son, the barkeep’s, appeared before him and reached out a hand. He was a diamond on a windshield, a rough that water only dissipates and sends on its way. But the car wreck that wounded him was his loss, his love taken, and son crippled.

“Dad,” the young man of only thirty spoke, “He too looks like me!”

“Yes son,” the barkeep returned speech, “fore he may allow us to stay if he only remembered.”

“Yes.”

The man who blew into Insane Winds came back out form the shadows and asked for a shot of Jack. The barkeep poured the man a glass and the son handed it to him. The cripple looked at the young mana and smiled, “You look like me. Have one with me and I shall tell a tale to you of how I got this way.”

Three drinks poured and the men huddled around the edge of the bar, they all took a glance around and noticed the emptiness, minus a woman on stage singing. Her song of love and welcoming was the same here as were there, then the barkeep warned the man not to touch for she is fragile and the man who blew into Insane Winds dared not move but stare a moment and then turned back as the thirty-year-old asked what had happened to him.

“Here O’Mighty young adventurer, hear not a tale of longing and pain, but that of joyous occasion.

“Long since time allowed, I have been abroad and near bound,

I have seen the highest heights of the mountains and as a sea dwelling urchin to the Pilates I caught site of one wind, long ago, that allowed me to transform into whichever disguise I may feel. Do you believe?”

“Yes.” Said the young man with eager voice and eyes.

“I believe you, fore here I shall show.”

The man that blew into Insane Winds rose from the stool that he sat upon and stretched his arms toward the ceiling and appeared to be but a woman now instead a man!

Jaws dropped as she was just as beautiful as the man that walked in and the barkeep only smiled.

“Welcome back Lucile.”

“How did you know who I was? I have not seen you since the last wind change?”

“I know your smell, this here is,” here he pointed at the boy, “The Admiral. He awaits the becoming as do I.”

“Fear not my longing ones, for we shall rise tonight!”

“Hey cruel world, you don’t have what it takes anymore, for I shall set free the destroyer. I am among the One.”

“Fayte!”

Suddenly the bar was full of souls who wondered in without knowing they were there already. The barkeep knew, the son, but not Lucile. She looked around and seen the men and women there all risen off their seats and on bended knee. Wheelchair and non were bent toward the apostle of the word, the new word, Insane Winds.

No reflection given in glass nor mirror till then, the shattered remnants of old were of the deaf and dead. But the look of the new were appealing to Lucile and then she touched the barkeep and he melted into dust, as the son, and the remaining members of the Tuns Tavern. She stepped out into the world once more on fire with life and glory of God.

Burning brilliantly into the moonless sky, Lucile walked the streets gathering souls and burning the people to ash as she passed. Soon the city was dry of all humanity, next one an hour later, twelve more by third hours end.

Standing there alone in the ash, the white stain that was gathering upon Lucile’s clothing gave rise to alarm as cities nation wide began a manhunt to track, capture or kill the foul creature who has murdered thousands. Feeding on the armies that entered her range which was only growing with each passing soul that entered into her. she was a little pistol and now humanity was going to get pistol whipped.

Shall she rise, as she believed she were too?

Who was to stop her?

A passing bullet entered the rear of her head and dropped her to the ground for a moment. That sudden shock only led to the rise of a white smoke that covered a vast distance and all souls swallowed instantaneously.

Cock it!

Hamer back!

Hard On!

Fire the cannon!

A large ship like structure appeared in the sky and the captain of the vessel was Lucile and she then scoured the globe for all now who dared harm another, harm an innocent. She was now justice in dark.

“Take Heed the below!” she cried, “I am not a savior, but saint of mercy and those who seek harm shall face me in the night!”

To this day she haunts the above, gathering souls of the damned and delivering them to the beyond.

fantasy

William L. Truax III

I am a father of two, Girl 15 current 2021 and Boy 12 current 2021. Going fifteen plus years with their mother and I could not imagine my life any different. Despite my Short Military Service in the Marine Corps, I am disabled in Head/Body

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