The Heir to Darkness Part 1 (standard:horror, 3486 words) [1/4] show all parts
Author: J. F. Naples	Updated: Jun 10 2002	Views/Reads: 3460/2312	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The Phone Call

I don't know where I should start.  This is the first time that I am
using a tape recorder to put down thoughts because I need to get a few 
things said before I part this reality, and fall uncontrollably into 
the gaping mouth of Hell. 

The reason that I am telling this story is so that I can try and set my
mind at ease and to document whatever sanity I may have left intact, 
because I know that it is going to be gone here in the very  near 
future. 

(sigh) 

I used to be a journalist in my old life, but I can write no longer. 
For my hands are growing so unrecognizable and grotesque that I am not 
able to hold a pen with any dexterity, or even tap the keys to my 
keyboard with any accuracy.  My overall appearance is becoming a 
hideous sight.  Being so, I haven't looked into a mirror for weeks now 
because my body has begun to change drastically.  I can feel it 
changing, and there isn't a way that I can stop its coming.  If I were 
to turn myself into the custody of an official sort, I may be found in 
some desolate place. 

Or I may not even be found at all. 

Even worse, I may be around forever.  If there was a way that I could
have stopped its calling, I think I might have chosen that route. 

But now, here I am, eternally doomed, waiting for my imperil life to
begin. 

And I am afraid. 

I am not afraid of death, for that is what I wish upon myself now.  I
hope that death would come, but I do not foresee that option in the 
very near future.  Instead, what I see is a rebirth.  What I see is 
peril, pain and submission. 

I see darkness. 

With death, sometimes you can see it coming, and sometimes you cannot. 

Driving on a highway as safe as you will.  The car that is passing you
on the right blows a tire, slamming into you, pushing you into oncoming 
traffic.  That truck is front of you cannot stop, and you meet its 
grill head on. 

Taking a nature walk with your family.  The snake that you didn't see
hiding in the forest foliage bites you.  Death comes quickly. 

Then you have those people who know that they are going to die, but not
know when that they are going to cross over into the afterlife.  
Stinking up hospital rooms with the pungent odor of death.  Wasting 
away into nothing, waiting for that last breath to be drawn.  But they 
know that the end will be soon.  With that, I am envious. 

I guess that is why I am taking these last moments of this life to say
what is on my mind, and to have whomever finds these tapes make their 
own decision of my demise. 

I guess I can start with who I once was. 

*	*	*	*	* 

My name is Jason Miller, and before this existence befell upon me, I was
a very successful person.  I had a devoted wife, two lovely children, 
and a wonderful career that I truly enjoyed. 

At work, I was very diligent, talented, liked and much trusted. 
Everyone came to me for advice, professional or personal, or if they 
just needed a shoulder to lean on, I was there for them.  They knew 
that they could come to me at anytime, anyplace, and I would stop what 
I was doing, and give them my undivided attention. 

I remember quite a few times when I would come to work to find gifts
waiting for me at my desk.  Card's, flowers, tickets for concerts and 


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