Fate and a Gun

Jul 2, 2013 by

gun_png_by_doloresdevelde-d5fye4hHe was, quite simply, mad.
Though she knew he did not start that way and his thread was never knotted to be so, some things were well out of her hands. Which, in retrospect, the thought would have made her slightly smile if it wasn’t for the fact the chill barrel of a gun was pressed as surely as a lover’s kiss upon her temple.
“I said, undo it! Unravel it! Un-unknot it. Whatever it is you do, you fucking do it, got it?” In the caverns, his tremulous and cracking voice bounced along the walls as a child’s toy thrown in grief.
“I cannot,” she repeated herself quietly. He smelled like sorrow: salt and tears and sweat and fear. He had not washed in several days. She did not think he had eaten, either.
“You can,” barked. The gun was painfully shoved into her temple, pushing her head violently to the side. She straightened herself best as she could and noticed that she could see the smallest sliver of light underneath the blindfold.
“I cannot, there are rules I must not break.”
Even the smallest click of metal as his finger tightened slightly about the trigger felt louder than any of the screaming he had done earlier.
“You can either break the rules or you can be dead. This is the last chance I am giving you.” His hand had trembled earlier, his voice wavered with hidden tears. Now she heard another note. A note that finally made her hands on needles and thread in her lap move. She picked up her golden needles and began to weave the hole in the path of Fate that the death of his wife made.
A car accident a week ago. It had not been her wish to end the woman’s life so suddenly and it had not even been knotted into the string of the woman’s life. But Death also had his own rules and his own way of things. His string she could never see or touch, so she could not tell when he would throw an unseemly tangle in her careful stitches. And so it is what it is, she had thought seven days ago. But she had not counted on him. There had not been a human in the caverns of the oracles in thousands of years, the old gods should have been long forgotten, the old ways of summoning buried deep.
Should. Yet, here he was now, grieving for his wife with a gun to the head of Fate.
“Please,” softly. “Please rethink this. You do not know the consequences. There are some things which cannot be re-done,” she pleaded, even as her hands skimmed over the work that was usually familiar to her. It was a tad more difficult to knit blindfolded, with a gun to her head.
I don’t care!” Shouted. “I don’t care. She’s…She’s my everything. She was everything. She’s all I have and if you do not bring her back I will end you. I will end you, and then find all of you and kill them too until I have what I want.”
She did not doubt him. “All right,” soothed. “All right,” her voice was calm but it was her turn for her hands to tremble. She found the string she wanted, knotted it around her needle and slipped it through. End over end and around and about, in her mind she could envision the faint cavern’s light flickering off gold as it had done and always did for centuries.
“It is done,” she intoned. There was a strange echo to those three words: a warning, a sadness, and a finality that even made him hesitate. She could feel it in the way the gun barrel pressure on her temple lessened.
“What–?” He did not finish. The sound of Death’s footsteps were that of long passed leaves, dry shed skin of serpents tussling with one another in the wind. One moment silent and the next moment she could hear the silk rustle of his robes as he rush-stepped (never ran. Death ran for no one) over to touch the man on the shoulder. As he did so, the man died. The gun, his last breath, crashing to the stone floor.
Death eased the blindfold from fates eyes. She blinked the light back into her vision and glanced down to the lump of the human who dared to find and threaten a god.
“If only they listened to our warnings,” she murmured sadly.

What is FF month?

July is Flash Fiction month, where authors and writers attempt to write a 55 – 1000 word story a day for the month of July. Fate and a Gun is the first Flash Fiction for July, inspired by Flash Fiction Month deviantart’s group; where text, visual and audio prompts are given to inspire fellow writers. Join in and visit Flash Fiction Month here: http://flash-fic-month.deviantart.com/
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