The Harvester Read online

  The hero raised the remains and slowly

  Slid the flesh and skull of the animal over mine.

  Granted, I had experienced a lot of insanity in my time,

  But the dead, cool flesh suctioning to my face

  Would remain with me for quite some time.

  Once I became used to the smell, I opened my eyes

  Allowing me sight through the sockets of the goat.

  My breath forged a path through the mouth crevice.

  I had no choice, but to taste the carcass on my lips.

  The blood of the animal found its way

  Within my nostrils and around my tongue.

  The surplus amounts were spit through the mouth hole

  As the taste was not to my liking.

  Feeling the pressure from the eyes of his peers,

  The man tore my frayed shirt to expose my bare chest.

  He held the sharpened weapon,

  Searching for my beating heart.

  My breath through the goat’s mouth

  Prompted his backward sway from me.

  As I was finding sanctuary within the hallowed head,

  Others did not share the same unification ritual as I.

  With more disgust than anguish,

  He leaned back and plunged

  The wooden stake deep into my heart.

  I saw the eyes of the man

  As my blood splashed against his face.

  With his energy flowing,

  He twisted the wood deep within me.

  I felt the pain; I felt the distress of the crowd,

  But I did not feel the arrival of death.

  The man stepped back as my blood pooled beneath me.

  The mob was satisfied and cheered the man.

  If I bled, I would die.

  Even seemed rational to me,

  But my blood was not like theirs.

  I was not like any of them.

  They left me there to rot in the night air

  As they slept peacefully in their abodes.

  Tied to the column as a goat; a trophy of a capture.

  The crows flew to me tempted either by my blood

  Or the aroma gifted to the air by the severed head.

  Regardless of their reasoning, they arrived.

  I could feel them all around, landing upon me.

  Their claws gripping my flesh for support.

  My mask was being tugged as they pecked for food.

  My neck constantly shifted

  Becoming a victim to the movement of the goat skull.

  Night wolves also roamed near.

  The crows took to higher ground.

  Two grey wolves approached with caution,

  Their curious noses filled with the scent of my wounds.

  The puddles of my own blood kept them at a distance

  And appeased their carnivorous appetites.

  As strange as it may sound,

  I did find some comfort in watching them drink.

  Their lips curled, allowing their teeth to grip the flesh.

  When the greediness of the wolves turned to hunger,

  My eyes met with the yellow pupils of my enemies.

  Their ears bent back, their snout wrinkled.

  With slow precise leg movement; they wanted to feast.

  Their heavy paws crept ever so slowly

  In my direction with a low growl of anticipation.

  My salvation came in the form

  Of a lone lightning bolt extending down from the sky.

  The collision with the courtyard

  Sent sparks that attacked both wolves.

  The wolves whelped as they scampered off into the trees.

  My destiny was not to be devoured by nature.

  The next sun, I became a relic;

  A village spectacle, as each viewed me as a slain demon.

  God’s work had been achieved with gifts of glory

  To be descended upon them.

  I looked upon their smiles and satisfaction with disgust.

  Their laughter echoed through my bones;

  Their rude gestures clinched my muscles,

  But my depression took precedent.

  It carved my insides with its long reach

  And twisted my thoughts with visions of sorrow.

  My body could not counter the emotion.

  All physical movements were rendered with weakness

  Compared to the onslaught on my emotional mind.

  I often rotated my arms,

  Not to gain release from my bindings,

  But to reach a more comfortable position.

  The dry, rough rope tore at my wrists,

  But I felt no pain.

  The wooden stake lay deep within my chest,

  But I felt no pain.

  My mind was my true enemy now.

  With my body secured, my mind became relentless.

  I reached the edge of insanity

  As I resided against the column,

  Barely able to breathe through my mask.

  My body, in an attempt for freedom, shook uncontrollably.

  The violent nature of the movement scared some away.

  As my blood continued to drip,

  So did the passing of the sun.

  Through the hallowed out sockets of the goat’s eyes,

  I watched it hide behind the mountains.

  I remember feeling peace;

  A calmness for the approaching night.

  Hoping that the darkness would heal my body.

  Hope was not always attainable,

  But when it did reveal itself,

  I welcomed it wholeheartedly.

  To believe that all hope was gone

  Would be dissatisfaction with God.

  I chewed at the goat’s mouth

  In order to widen the hole in which I breathed.

  Spitting the excess out,

  I was able to increase my access to the night air.

  The deep breaths were beautiful

  And my lungs were quite thankful.

  Even though I was still imprisoned within a village

  By people bent on watching me die,

  I held tightly to my small piece

  Of tranquility with every breath I took.

  As the stars appeared, most of the crowd dispersed,

  But a few stayed to throw rocks and tainted food at me.

  I found myself struggling to receive a restful state.

  I could no longer move my legs,

  But could feel the breeze flowing over my wounds.

  I focused on the sensation

  And was able to find a peaceful slumber of sorts.

  My body had seen much worse.

  The presence of pain was everlasting.

  Although I had become accustomed,

  I often desired for my body to be left alone.

  Sleep provided me with an escape from persecution.

  My heart still thrived despite the wooden stake.

  The once flowing stream of my blood slowed.

  The loss was every drop I could offer.

  I felt close to death.

  I looked down into my own grave,

  As if I was a part of a mortal death.

  My corpse, hands crossed upon my chest, eyes closed;

  I was content.

  No wounds, no scars, no torment, only contentment.

  No demons were with him.

  No sins were with him.

  My corpse was alone with his thoughts.

  Not knowing how long I slept,

  I was awoken by a prodding to my leg.

  The goat’s blood had sealed my eyelids shut,

  But with a little effort, I was able to open them.

  A small child was determined to awaken me with a branch.

  If my legs were not tied, I would have kicked him away.

  When he noticed my attention,

  He raised his branch and gestured.

  Through the decayed flesh,


  I saw a distant person walking towards the village.

  The boy quickly ran from the courtyard.

  Then I heard it; that faint singing.

  I was gripped by intense fear.

  All other emotions paled in comparison.

  She was coming, my captor in the cave.

  I had never laid eyes on her before

  As she hid well within the darkness, but her song

  Made my heart bleed with every hymn.

  She would sing whenever she was near.

  Whenever I had doubt, she would come.

  Whenever I lost faith, she would come.

  I immediately struggled for my freedom.

  I felt the goat’s head twist from the fight.

  Stopping to judge her distance,

  Her hymn was becoming louder.

  I was not alone in my vision of her.

  Several of the villagers noticed her as well.

  I had never seen her outside of the darkness.

  She was always hidden within the cave shadows.

  The closer she became, the more of her I could see.

  I envisioned my shadowy captor as a hag or witch,

  So demonic that one would not dare lay eyes upon.

  A horrific beast forged from God’s anger.

  But she was none of those.

  She was strikingly beautiful to behold with an essence

  That demanded both the attention and respect

  For God’s ability to create.

  I was blinded by her splendor.

  With every step closer, she became more stunning.

  Her song consumed my senses

  And calmed the fear of my soul.

  What I witnessed next will be difficult to transcribe

  As even now, I cannot truly comprehend it.

  I witnessed sheer terror, of which still haunts me.

  Even the moon hid behind the clouds.

  No other noises existed; not from the wind or nature.

  Just her song; a melody of resentment and agony.

  The ties that bound me tightened.

  The hallowed head of the animal shifted upward

  So that my eyes were staring directly down the path.

  I gaped in awe at her flowing white gown.

  Her long hair danced so eloquently in the night.

  Her voyage continued with the villagers all enamored.

  Her pale complexion glistened in the moonlight

  Like a sparkling ocean in the sun.

  Her aura made me forget my memories.

  She was within the village perimeter.

  I could see her eyes fixated upon me.

  I could not turn my head to look away.

  I noticed one of the villagers walking towards her.

  Without warning and without taking her eyes off me,

  His body became distorted.

  His head bent backward, his arms twisted behind him,

  Every bone went the opposite way,

  But yet he remained standing, still alive.

  I could hear him struggle for breath.

  There were no screams, no tears.

  His mind and body did not know how to react.

  He became suspended in the air,

  His mind a prisoner of his tangled flesh.

  His eyes could only roam aimlessly,

  His tongue moved uncontrollably.

  No speech, no sound, emitted from his lips.

  He was taken to the boundary of death,

  I could see his mind trying to decipher his visions,

  Desperately seeking to understand.

  As she continued walking, his neck was broken.

  She did not lose stride in her approach,

  Even as another village tested his fate.

  Every limb of the man was twisted.

  His head, arms and legs did a full rotation.

  His flesh ripped under the pressure.

  No scream, no exhaust of pain was heard.

  He simply slumped to a pile on the ground.

  Her beauty was a power which one could dwell within;

  Sacrifice their lives for a closer glimpse.

  I was not immune either, but seeing the demonic deaths

  Prompted me to continue to seek release.

  Through my struggle, I saw another villager approach her.

  His limbs were ripped and thrown a great distance.

  His torso was the only portion that remained.

  One villager was lifted into the air and his spine was ripped

  From his body through his mouth.

  Both pieces fell to the ground as she continued walking.

  I pleaded to the skies to unbind me,

  But the clouds offered a thunderous laughter.

  My worry was captured in the streaks of lightning

  Splitting the sky with such ferocity and despair.

  As she strolled gracefully upon the path,

  My mind hid from any rational understanding.

  It left me with only the thought of death,

  Not by the will power of the villagers,

  But from the hand of God.

  My emotions were troubled and lost.

  I could not control them any longer.

  My body was at the mercy of a mindless soul.

  My eyes swelled and watered

  Hoping to somehow ease my damaged mind.

  Tears streamed from beneath my mask

  As I looked once again to the skies.

  I begged for mercy; I begged for a quick death.

  Instead of salvation, the skies mocked my sadness

  With a downpour of its own.

  The rain drops pelted my body

  As my head sagged away from the column.

  With her close, the control over my mind departed.

  I was no longer scared; I was no longer ashamed.

  I was merely content.

  My thoughts spoke of a beautiful death,

  One that would calm my distressed thoughts.

  One that would halt the deathly visions for once.

  A death so wonderful that no man would turn away from.

  An existence of pure peace with no suffering.

  The revelation calmed my heart and soothed my blood.

  I said no words, but again pleaded with God.

  I heard my fate in the rhythm of her song.

  I saw my fate in the stride of her walk.

  I smelled my fate in the aroma of her skin.

  If I had never felt her pain,

  I would have been charmed by her.

  Her essence was truly beautiful to behold,

  But I knew what was under her veil.

  The hatred, the chaos, the infliction.

  I had known it well; the others did not.

  Where the villagers failed in my death,

  She would be victorious.

  I welcomed her for a first

  As I hoped she carried a gift for me.

  She stood before me

  As a goddess sent by God.

  With a handful of goat hair, she slid the hallowed head off.

  The flesh gripped my face, opening my mouth.

  It left behind a coating of red on my skin.

  The moisture of the blood felt cold against the wind,

  But the air tasted sweet in comparison.

  The mask had provided me a sort of sanctuary.

  Without it, I felt vulnerable and weak.

  Being face to face with her was breathtaking.

  It made me unsure as to whether she was my enemy.

  I could only stare and lose myself within her spirit.

  She raised her hand to me, not to split my skull,

  But rather to caress my face with her palm.

  Her hands were soft against my scarred wounds.

  I found myself leaning into her touch,

  Getting lost within her eyes.

  I wanted to see the visions

  That she had seen within God’s kingdom.
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  I wanted to stroke the cloth she wore.

  She was my angel sent from God.

  She was my guide, my liberator.

  Her eyes were filled with compassion.

  Her mannerisms prompted by understanding.

  Her touch was redemption for all of the pain.

  Her care was a blessing, but short lived.

  She quickly extracted the stake from my chest.

  The pain was sudden and drained my lungs of air.

  Blood sprayed upon her white, flowing gown.

  Her appearance never altered,

  But her eyes turned a deep hue of red.

  Her mouth produced a snarl

  That would deter an angry pack of lions.

  With a quick jab of her palm,

  My head snapped backwards, splitting the column.

  My vision blurred; my skull swayed.

  I felt blood spilling from my nose.

  She presented her hands before me.

  As I watched through a haze, her fingernails grew.

  With no hesitation,

  She gored both of her hands deep within me.

  She pried my chest apart,

  Pulling at both sections of my ribcage.

  My skin splintered from the power

  And gave way to my dissection.

  The wind chilled my internal organs

  As her head lowered to look inside me.

  Her hand grasped my still beating heart,

  Judging my well-being with her eyes.

  Satisfied with her findings, she grabbed my outer torso

  And applied pressure to close my rib cage.

  My bones twisted and snapped.

  Let it be known, that she did not

  Return my body to its previous state.

  Her appearance had changed

  As if she had waded in a river of my own blood.

  The ropes that held me, loosened and fell.

  My lungs were struggling for breath,

  Even though they were exposed to the night air.

  Her other hand rested on my temple.

  She was reading me; my mind, my spirit.

  Seeing if my soul was still able for the task.

  Without much thought or concern,

  My mind spoke two words:

  No more.

  She heard my thought

  As an evil grin stretched from ear to ear.

  As she suspended me by my neck,

  I knew I had made a mistake.

  I demanded from her, when I should not have.

  As I flew through the air,

  I remember thinking about exiting that cave.

  It was a grain of happiness;

  Overshadowed by visions of my farm.

  That image became my strength; my backbone.

  That first breath of fresh air and warmth of the sun

  Rejuvenated the very essence of my soul.

  As my body collided with a nearby roof,

  I dwelled in the moment that I realized I was immortal.

  I smiled at the irony while she pounced on me,