As the trio of officers tore at the planks, they soon became acutely aware that more than just three lone people were working to get the body out- there was a fourth force, and this force was coming from the undersurface of the floor, where only the supposed corpse lay.
When they should have been seeing simply a hodge podge of gruesome pieces of an elderly man, they instead saw something far worse. They saw the stuff of nightmares as a zombie of sorts comprised of the shredded pieces jumped out at the men and quickly snapped their necks and threw them to the side- for they weren't his intended audience. But the dead-undead man did not have such a simple fate in mind for his would-be killer. Me.
This repulsive creation of Satan had such incredible strength that I quickly came to the realization that it could come only from Satan himself. Though all had thought that I was just yet another demented, psychotic lunatic, I was not. I had been flawlessly free of error in my perception of this villainous force, this pure evil. He had truly possessed an evil eye, and my hearing was indeed being finely honed by my simple physical proximity to this supernatural dark angel residing within this old man. But of course I had had no previous inkling of the extent of this horror. For who could ever have imagined the extent of this unholy abomination?
My panicky reflections were quickly and abrulptly cut short to an end as the monster leapt atop me. He opened his mouth, (I presumed to scream), but instead fire was all that resulted from the facial void. I suddenly realized that all traces of the old man were gone- vanished, wiped out, never again to be. This was all demonic, corrupt forces simply controlling the empty shell of what was formerly human. What had I done?
I was instantly set ablaze by this emanation of flame in a fit of lethal torture. As I lay growing closer and closer to a merciful relief of death, the hell hound from places unknown stood, and strode into the night to begin his reign of torture, terror, and death. As I began to pass into the mysterious afterlife or whatever it was that indeed waited for us on the other side, I felt immense, never-ending, soul-consuming regret for what I had set in motion through my comparatively innocent attempted slaying, for now the blame of the apparent fate of the entire world rested upon my shoulders.
And as I lay there sobbing grief-laden tears, I could already hear the screams and chaos surrounding me, caused by me, all around me.
And in that instant, the last of the life forces drained from my body.
I died.
When they should have been seeing simply a hodge podge of gruesome pieces of an elderly man, they instead saw something far worse. They saw the stuff of nightmares as a zombie of sorts comprised of the shredded pieces jumped out at the men and quickly snapped their necks and threw them to the side- for they weren't his intended audience. But the dead-undead man did not have such a simple fate in mind for his would-be killer. Me.
This repulsive creation of Satan had such incredible strength that I quickly came to the realization that it could come only from Satan himself. Though all had thought that I was just yet another demented, psychotic lunatic, I was not. I had been flawlessly free of error in my perception of this villainous force, this pure evil. He had truly possessed an evil eye, and my hearing was indeed being finely honed by my simple physical proximity to this supernatural dark angel residing within this old man. But of course I had had no previous inkling of the extent of this horror. For who could ever have imagined the extent of this unholy abomination?
My panicky reflections were quickly and abrulptly cut short to an end as the monster leapt atop me. He opened his mouth, (I presumed to scream), but instead fire was all that resulted from the facial void. I suddenly realized that all traces of the old man were gone- vanished, wiped out, never again to be. This was all demonic, corrupt forces simply controlling the empty shell of what was formerly human. What had I done?
I was instantly set ablaze by this emanation of flame in a fit of lethal torture. As I lay growing closer and closer to a merciful relief of death, the hell hound from places unknown stood, and strode into the night to begin his reign of torture, terror, and death. As I began to pass into the mysterious afterlife or whatever it was that indeed waited for us on the other side, I felt immense, never-ending, soul-consuming regret for what I had set in motion through my comparatively innocent attempted slaying, for now the blame of the apparent fate of the entire world rested upon my shoulders.
And as I lay there sobbing grief-laden tears, I could already hear the screams and chaos surrounding me, caused by me, all around me.
And in that instant, the last of the life forces drained from my body.
I died.
In 1949, like about a week before he died, he was supposed to take atrain in Baltimore for going to Philadelphia. That`s what history knows. After that it`s a mystery. Some people (And myself) believe that he went to a bar and he got drunk, with this it is believed that he was taken to vote for some elections and then dropped in the streat. This was a common way of faking the elections in that time. But, still, I can`t really say how he day. All I know is that, five days after he was supposed to take that train, he appeared in the streat and he was taken to the hospital. The doctor was a friend of him. And then October 7th, he died. Miserable, poor and having hallusinations, our loving Edgar died and nobody in his family or friends (he had a grandmother ) knew it. He died alone. Tragic isn`t it?
In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not love the less-
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that towered around.
But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody-
Then- ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.
Yet that terror was not fright,
But a tremulous delight-
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach or bribe me to define-
Nor Love- although the Love were thine.
Death was in that poisonous wave,
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining-
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake.
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not love the less-
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that towered around.
But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody-
Then- ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.
Yet that terror was not fright,
But a tremulous delight-
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach or bribe me to define-
Nor Love- although the Love were thine.
Death was in that poisonous wave,
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining-
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake.
'Tis said that when
The hands of men
Tamed this primeval wood,
And hoary trees with groans of woe,
Like warriors by an unknown foe,
Were in their strength subdued,
The virgin Earth Gave instant birth
To springs that ne'er did flow
That in the sun Did rivulets run,
And all around rare flowers did blow
The wild rose pale Perfumed the gale
And the queenly lily adown the dale
(Whom the sun and the dew
And the winds did woo),
With the gourd and the grape luxuriant grew.
So when in tears
The love of years
Is wasted like the snow,
And the fine fibrils of its life
By the rude wrong of instant strife
Are broken at a blow
Within the heart
Do springs upstart
Of which it doth now know,
And strange, sweet dreams,
Like silent streams
That from new fountains overflow,
With the earlier tide
Of rivers glide
Deep in the heart whose hope has died--
Quenching the fires its ashes hide,--
Its ashes, whence will spring and grow
Sweet flowers, ere long,
The rare and radiant flowers of song!
The hands of men
Tamed this primeval wood,
And hoary trees with groans of woe,
Like warriors by an unknown foe,
Were in their strength subdued,
The virgin Earth Gave instant birth
To springs that ne'er did flow
That in the sun Did rivulets run,
And all around rare flowers did blow
The wild rose pale Perfumed the gale
And the queenly lily adown the dale
(Whom the sun and the dew
And the winds did woo),
With the gourd and the grape luxuriant grew.
So when in tears
The love of years
Is wasted like the snow,
And the fine fibrils of its life
By the rude wrong of instant strife
Are broken at a blow
Within the heart
Do springs upstart
Of which it doth now know,
And strange, sweet dreams,
Like silent streams
That from new fountains overflow,
With the earlier tide
Of rivers glide
Deep in the heart whose hope has died--
Quenching the fires its ashes hide,--
Its ashes, whence will spring and grow
Sweet flowers, ere long,
The rare and radiant flowers of song!