Selections From a Forgotten History

The proud glass doors stood still as if frozen in time. There had been a time when a steady flow of people had kept those doors revolving at all hours of the day. The neatly cleaned glass accented by the brass framework caught the sunlight and sent it spinning through the great hall. These abandoned ruins stood as a reminder of the glory days. Days that had come to such a tragic and violent end. The people had been warned of the coming anti Christ for thousands of years. Few spotted him when he finally arrived. Immanuel Kant stated "Act only to that maximum whereby you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law." Some of humanity is blessed with a deeper understating of the seemingly randomized events of tragedy, misfortune, and good health, that cycle through an individuals life. These blessed souls are able to see through the bonds of time making them able to have a knowledge of how their actions or inaction's will affect the fate of the world. Most of these great men and women live in such a way that their memories are never forgotten because of the greatness they left behind. Few of these chosen souls refuse to answer the call set upon them living less than average lives regretting the actions of their youth until their dying day. An even smaller number of these for sited beings are the ones whose hearts are filled with darkness and malice. Those who change the world with the horrors contained in their hearts reflected by their actions. The story at hand is of a man who could not see the future repercussions of his thoughtless and brutal deeds. The beginning of the end came at the declaration of what would be the final world war. A man was chosen to lead the American He had been elected at the greatest peak in culture the world had ever known. His name was John Blackstead. His selfish and unholy actions would eventually lead the world down a path from which it could never return. He would be remembered as the man who had brought humanity to the brink of destruction. Many men born with evil shadowing their hearts had launched conquest after conquest in an effort to dominate the world. One could argue that Alexander the Great had succeeded this tiresome task to some degree having conquered all of the world as it was known to him. But in truth the only man to who this feat could be accredited is the man of which i have previously spoke. 7 months after John Blackstead took office he put into action his self serving plan. He began his assault on China. The well developed country did not see their end coming. It came silent and unsuspected in the night stealing away the life of an entire people. John did what men before him had been to afraid to do. He launched the world into a full fledged nuclear war. The onslaught against the Chinese people lasted four hours. At the end of this gruesome attack few survived in that region of the world. For all intensive purposes the rest of humanity would be destroyed in less than a year. At the end of this evil man's reign the worlds resources had been depleted, destroyed, or compromised to the point that planet earth would only be inhabitable for a few short months. The few great minds who had seen the end coming had constructed a fail safe in a secret region of the world. They had built a dome and inside the dome they had reconstructed the Garden of Eden. The dome would be inhabited by two clones. A man and a woman. The contents of the garden would be able to support the last of man kind and their children until the time when they could venture out into the natural world.

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If you are reading this manuscript the archive has been open for approximately ten years by our standard of time. This is the end of a comprehensive history left behind by our people for the benefit of the worlds next inhabitants. The final hours in which the people of the world allowed themselves to be destroyed by blindly following the instructions of their leaders like mindless sheep are contained in these records. The world is now yours to do with as you wish. Remember. How you govern your societies today will affect future generations from now until the end of time. Do not forget the mistakes that once threatened to end humanity for all time.

The End

By: Matthew Lynn

Temptress

Love. That cruel mistress we enslave ourselves too. The meaningless onslaught of emotion ebbing away at our charachter, forcing our personalitys to bury themselves. Why must all happiness come at a price too dear to pay? Because beauty catches our eye warping the mind of the beholder. Remove me from the snares of bondage. Free my burdened spirit. As the gentle wind glides across the mountain tops sleep over takes my mind...

By: Matthew Lynn

The Cruel Justice of a Miserable Heart

The cigarette butt lay still smoldering in the soft, new fallen snow futilely tyring to hang on to life already doomed. The ashes of the now extinguished fire rolled through the air with the innocent snowflakes now tainted by the crimes of man. Carley Peterson stood in her signature stance. One foot turned toward the crime scene the other at the square. Her arms partially folded her sleder hand softly stroking her chin. Carley ran an independent detective service out of a home she had converted into an office. Her assistant Joan stood by Carley's side with a small notepad watching and listening intently waiting for her employer to speak. Carley had no patience for keeping track of her own notes. Organization wasn't one of her strong suits. This particular arson case bothered Carley deeply because of its direct connection to a serial murder case she had been working on for a little over a year now. The police had long given up on chasing the deranged man that was terrorizing the people of Pennbrooke. The connection between these two cases that disturbed Miss Carley Peterson so much was that the man that had perished in the arson fire was James Mason, the man that had been the only suspect in the serial murders. This fact was only disturbing because another murder fitting the MO of the sadistic torture that was roaming the streets of this once peaceful city. The media had dubbed the phycopath the Piccolo Pete after the firework because of the chemical residue left on the victims. James Mason had, had access to a number of chemicals that would have been nearly impossible for a member of the general public to obtain. He was a chemist for a government company whose operations were closely guarded. The officials in charged seemed to like playing things close to the chest. Carley picked up the now cold cigarette butt with a pair of tweezers before the police could take it away locking her out of what could be a vital piece of evidence. She carefully placed the butt inside a plastic evidence bag and handed it off to her assistant. Carley gazed around the charred home noticing that the fire appeared to have been set from inside the home. "Lets go home Joan, I've seen what i need to see," Carley muttered. The drive back to the office was chaos trying to maneuver around the news vans , police cars, and other emergency vehicles. After forty five minutes of trying to make a fifteen minute trip Carley and Joan finally made it back to the office that Carley called home. "Go ahead and head home for the night," Carley said to Joan in a slightly abrasive manner. Joan smiled taking her boss's response casually knowing it was just a lack of sleep that had hardened her mood. Carley pulled the cigarette butt out of its protective environment something caught her attention that had escaped her before. There were faint lipstick smudges on the butt. A deep red that seemed somehow familiar. As she ran through the possibility's of where she had seen that shade of lipstick before sleep deprivation got the better of her and she fell to sleep. Carley woke to a loud knock on the door. Startled she attempted to straiten her disheveled hair as she strode across the room to answer her waiting visitor. She opened the door. Two men in uniform stood on her porch. "Hello Miss, Peterson. I am detective Swanson and this is my partner Leroy. We have a few questions to ask you may we come in? Confused Carley nodded her head self consciously wondering what had brought these two gentlemen out to her home to question her at such a late hour. "Sorry about the time Miss, Peterson but this is a pressing matter. We just need to clear up your whereabouts for tonight around 2a.m." Puzzled Carley replied. "I was here sleeping, I fell asleep while i was working on a case. What is this about detectives?" Detective Swanson looked his partner in the eyes briefly with a look of discomfort before answering. "There is a significant amount of evidence that you are connected with the murder of Joan Sharp and several other victims attributed to Piccolo Pete." " I don't understand?" Carley mumbled "Joan was murdered? She was just here tonight helping me wrap things up for the day." The officers made eye contact once again looking increasingly worried. "We are going to need you to come with us Miss, Peterson. There are some things you need to see.........." Memories of violent attacks came flooding back into Carley's mind. Memories of what seemed to be another life. She nodded her consent and allowed herself to be taken into custody. "I think I'd like a lawyer," were the last words anyone heard her utter out loud as she was loaded into the back of the detectives squad car. As Detective Swanson drove away he looked in the rear view mirror at the abandoned shack where the body's had been discovered. It had been under careful watch for sometime waiting for the killer to make their appearance. Tonight the people of Pennbrooke could sleep soundly. Piccolo Pete had finally been apprehended.

The End

By: Matthew Lynn

The Truth

Shimmering complexities fill the abandoned hallways of solitude, leaving undiscovered possibilities irrelevant to the intangible relationships of life. Persuasive aggressions remembered only by the bitter and distant winter nights. Winds howling across the barren landscape of iniquity's past. Melancholy lovers dancing through the silence that is the truth

By: Matthew Lynn

A Hero's Reward

Is nobility something that a man can be born into or is it a right that that must be earned through dedication and hard work? Jeremy toyed with this thought in the late hours of the night in the days before his death. Jeremy had spent a great deal of his life trying to be a Noble and virtuous man. And in this respect he had obtained success which wasn't always easy in our increasingly violent and corrupt world. It was almost a necessity for young aspiring business men to lie, cheat, and plagiarize their way to success. Jeremy refused to succumb to the temptations of mortality. Throughout his life Jeremy had, had his fair share of rough and trying times but it was the current economic crisis that ultimately led to his untimely demise. The tragic hero of our story had never married. His work had consumed him to the point that he had almost no emotional ties left in this world. "A small price to pay for success," he had told himself on many occasions. And to some degree he did obtain success. Jeremy had built himself a business from the ground up. He remembered the long sleepless nights he had spent sorting through his ideas with a fine toothed comb trying to breathe life into his dreams. He didn't quite achieve his dreams but he came as close as the circumstances placed upon his metaphorical table would allow. The glass wasn't half full but it wasn't half empty either. For Jeremy it was almost as if the the glass didn't exist. Jeremy's business was to market and sell superficial electronic accessories. The kind that you see in infomercials that you would never dream of buying for at the original asking price. He employed three sales representatives which he payed a less than mediocre wage 12 dollars an hour. The small nature of his company and his careful consideration in hiring had bred a happy almost family like environment. On Saturday, July, 17 ,2007 Jeremy's team landed a major contract that would finally give them the funding they needed to expand their market into more worthwhile ventures. As a reward for this extraordinaire stroke of luck Jeremy closed up the office for the day giving his employee's the rest of the day off to celebrate their up coming raises. After pouring 20 years into his business things were finally on the rise. Jeremy spent the rest of the day wandering the city taking in the sites with a joy filled heart. As twilight began to descend upon the world Jeremy decided it was time to begin his journey home. It was at this time that he found himself in front of a poorly lit alley way at precisely the right time. A scream echoed through the nearby neighborhood almost inaudible over the sound of the constantly growing city. A desperate cry of a woman in need. Vaguely through the darkness Jeremy could see her struggling with her attacker. There was no hesitation in is selfless actions. He launched himself into the alley barreling into the dark clothed assailant just a few seconds later. The impact knocked them both to the ground. Jeremy wrestled with this confused and deranged man whose heart had been corrupted by the lack of jobs therefore feeling the inevitable need and want for money with which to obtain vital living essentials. The sound of gunfire filled the dark night. An abrupt silence followed but only for a brief moment. Jeremy knew he had been hit but he did not feel the biting pain of the sadistic bullet that had lodged itself in his body. Instead he felt bliss, probably from endorphins being released in his brain to spare his body an agonizing end. He heard the words being spoken by the woman he rescued to the 911 operators but they did not register in his fading mind. Paramedics arrived shortly after the grateful woman had placed her urgent call. The ambulance crew drilled Jeremy with questions about his day to day life in an attempt to keep him from going into fatal shock and Jeremy tried to answer but it was too late. As the light dimmed from Jeremy's eyes he knew the answers to the questions that had puzzled him so and deprived him of precious sleep. To be a noble man you must earn that title through your life's thoughts, words and actions. He had achieved greatness beyond what he had ever dreamed himself capable of.

The End

By: Matthew Lynn

Iniquitys Confinement

What is the essence of life? We ponder this question from time to time, human beings being curious by nature. Edgar Allan Poe once said, "those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night." I don't think he was referring to the lazier portion of our population who allow themselves to be trapped by the bonds of sleep. Wasting away the morning in a futile slumber only to re-entertain this habit night after night, but rather to those who let go of their imaginations. Those who refuse to let the regulations and walls built by the people of the world limit their dreams and aspirations. Those who are ruled by creativity and inspiration. Those who give in to their wild impulses letting the wonders of the world guide them to discover the greater meaning of life's mystery's. So again we ask; What is the essence of life?
The essence of life is the ability to live freely and seize the day. It is having the liberty of following the wildest of our dreams and achieving greatness through our own personal drive to succeed. I sit in my chair facing the one window i have to look upon the world. The high back rising above my head. Its elegantly carved woodwork surrounding me in a cruel reminder of the greatness i had once achieved. I stand and survey my sad excuse for exile. Four walls surround me. They seem to be flawless concrete. No exit visible to the naked eye as if my prison had been constructed around me. My room is full of furniture of fine workmanship. This thought disgusts me. My wish is that my asylum would reflect the emptiness that i feel inside. I retake my seat looking through the glass that seperates me from the outside world. As the day light fades from the quickly falling darkness clouds begin to gather in the now hazy sky. Rain begins to fall. The soft sheen of a moon hidden behinds threating clouds of a growing storm can be seen taunting the world with a false promise of light. As I was cursed to sit in this room high above the ground and stare out at the world day after day so was I cursed to look upon the moon glistening with the reminder of the blood shed by the greedy hearts of men, leaving the world desolate and destroyed. Lighting flashed. As the brief flash of light lit up the landscape i could briefly see the ocean on the distant horizons. I feared I would never have the pleasure of visiting the blue depths of the ocean ever again. Not that it mattered. No living thing could survive in those tainted waters now. The thunder that followed shook the very tower in which my room was located. As the sorms energy increased so did the intensity of my heartbeat. Adrenaline surged through my veins. Anger filled my heart. The pain and lonliness spawing from my deprivation of contact with the outside world spirial upward into an uncontrollable rage. I lifted my chair over my head and swung it forward into the window that had haunted me so. A loud crack filled the air resonating through the confinement of my skull. Splintered wood flew in all direcitons. The window stood as if untouched. Undamaged by my vein attempts to escape. Pain filled my body. I writhed on the floor screaming and howling like a man whose mind had been corrupted by insanity. I struggled to keep conciousness as the pain spreak to every corner of my being. It felt as if my soul was being wrentched apart by the darkness of mans iniquity. After spending what seemed like hours of agony the pain began to lessen slowly as if the unseen beasts of evil had grown board of their torture and left the scene one by one. Numbness replaced what was once unbearable affliction. Exahusted i stood. I breathed deeply through my nose attempting to regain my strength. I collapsed on the debrie covered floor. As I began to loose my conciousness my eyes caught sight of my desk. A red envelope sat on the desk unopened. One more detail seeped into my incoherant mind. My chair sat in its proper place tucked in beneath my desk....

The End

By: Matthew Lynn