The Secret





Timothy Blunt was an average citizen of Paradox the daughter of the United States after it fell in 2035. Until of course he stumbled upon the secret that would change his life, and his family's for the worst.

Timothy worked for Renaissance Corporations he believed like all the rest that they believed in rebuilding the world and the cultures that were lost in World War Four. Until he overhears the conversation. What is RC hiding? Read The Secret to find out.

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5. Death

Chapter Five: Death

 

 

Timothy returned home, his sister Rebecca at his side. He slid his key into the lock and walked inside. The smell of death overwhelmed his senses. He flipped the light switch and saw to utter horror the body of his beloved fiance. Her blood stained the white wood of the floor her eyes lifeless, and still filled with fear of death stared at the ceiling. He walked like the undead unable to feel anything but his own grief, he knelt down next her body not caring that the blood was congealing around his pant legs. He reached a crossed her to a piece of notebook paper, a note was inscribed there in her shaky but elegant handwriting he had become so used to seeing in the little love notes she wrote in the margins of his important documents. Never again would he this handwriting. He read the note with tears filling his eyes,

 

 

 

'Timothy,

        Maxwell came to the apartment. We talked and he told me you knew something you shouldn't. He shot me with poison laced bullets and left me here to die. I feel it, the poison is a red hot pain it spreads like greedy fingers of a man with a pretty girl. God you must stop him, stop what ever he's planning and avenge my death. Remember that I love you and I will love you forever even in death. I'm sorry I couldn't fulfill my promise in marrying you. I love you forever and always. I don't have much time. Just know the murderer is your best friend you must stop him. I love you,

 

                     Tish, forever and always Timmy.' 

 

Timothy cradled the body of Tish in his arms crying like a child. Rebecca stood in the doorway unsure of what to do, he rocked her in his arms. 

 

"It's all my fault. I shouldn't have pursued anything at all. Oh God Tish I'm sorry, so very terribly sorry." Rebecca stepped forward, a phone in hand.

 

"Timmy you should call the Bots." Timothy looked up at her; disbelief stained his already worn face.

 

"And tell them what Rebel? That I came home and found my fiance dead?"

 

"Well yes. Who did it?"

 

"Your husband Rebecca."

 

"Your best friend." She countered," I wouldn't have met him if it weren't for you,"

 

"Don't blame this on me! I didn't make you fall in love with him Rebecca."

 

"And no one made you befriend him." Rebecca yet again countered his argument. 

 

"However he got into our lives, I'm taking him out of them-for good Rebecca."

 

"You aren't really going to kill him are you?"

 

"Yes Rebel. He killed Tish, he killed father for that he will die as well."

 

"I cannot stop you...can I brother?"

 

"No...there is no changing my mind. Maxwell has taken too much from me to be forgiven."

 

"Death won't come easily to Maxwell Timothy. He is evil, besides he is of the Pod and you are not. You are a human of old not the new and approved humans such as myself and that of Tish."

 

"Just because I do not have the brainpower that you possess and refuse to use Rebecca does not mean I'm not capable to take down my enemy. I possess something he does not."

 

"What is that Timothy?"

 

"The ability to feel the need to exact revenge." Timothy stood and walked towards the bedroom he once shared with Tishabeth Davidson, he stepped into the bathroom and started the shower the hottest it would go, he was dead set on erasing his memories of Tish, to erase the pain coursing through is veins. He felt the guilt of leaving her alone build inside him until he collapsed onto the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, the steam of the shower forming condensation on them and making them glisten like a thousand stars reflecting back at him the sadness that was taking over his eyes. He screamed at nothing as he threw her mother of pearl hairbrush at the mirror, making it shatter into a million pieces. One shard sliced open his hand, making a thin crimson line run down his arm. The only color Timothy now permitted himself to see. Dazed he stood and stepped into the shower and sang an old lullabye that used to lull him to sleep as a young child as his mother cooed and cradled him.

 

'Pick a Daisy, Smell a rose.

My baby boy will never doze.

Look at the pretty lilac

Don't pick beautiful boy,

That's the angel's flower of choice.

Smell the poppies don't they smell so sweet.

My baby boy will never sleep.

Inhale the poppies sweet scent.

Oh baby boy so divine.

Rest your eyes a while now against my chest.

Pick a daisy, smell a rose.

Sleep forever now

Sweet baby boy of mine to hold.

You'll never grow old.

In the land of legends told.'

 

The water cascaded down his body as he sang the song his mother created just for him. Not another soul in Paradox had ever heard the song, not even his sister Rebecca. The water turned frigid too fast and he stepped out reluctantly. Confused now about the mess and blood on the floor he sighed and stepped out completely void of clothing into his bedroom. He dressed hurriedly and heard voices in the next room. Bots.

 

"Thank you Miss. Blunt for the call. Its a shame your brother lost her so soon."

 

"It is, she was a special girl and now she's dead."

 

"Do you have any clue who could have done it?"

 

"My husband."

 

"Maxwell Tylerson, are you positive?"

 

"Its right there in the note." Rebecca answered growing impatient with the Bots, they were Police man and they scared her to her core. They had come to the scene of her mother's suicide and Rebecca didn't understand what they were doing twenty years ago and she became so very terrified of the Bots. They were robots that looked and talked surprisingly like humans. 

 

"If that will be all, I have arrangements to make." Timothy said dismissing the Bots.

 

"Of course Mr. Blunt. We will catch him don't you worry."

 

"I don't doubt your abilities Bot 09456 and Bot 87950."

 

"Thank you. Compliment received. No sarcasm detected. Have a nice day Mr. Blunt, we will be in touch." 

 

"I don't have a doubt in the world." was Timothy's reply. "Good Day." Timothy looked at the blood on the floor where Tish's body had rested mere hours before. "I can't believe she's gone." was all he managed to say before collapsing in on himself in gut wrenching sobs of grief that Rebecca had trouble watching.

 

"Damn him!" Rebecca shouted.

 

"What?"

 

"Damn him to hell! How can he do this to you? To me? You are right Timothy, Maxwell deserves to die! At our hands and no one elses."

 

"You would help me take him down?"

 

"I would. Starting with Chestworth."

 

"Good now you're talking Rebel." Timothy stood, his sobs ceased to exist when he heard his sister's outburst of rage. Now, to plan our counter revolt.

 

Timothy sat with his sister at the Kitchenette planning their plan  to kill Maxwell and all of those who worked with him, Timothy couldn't help but think of the many meals he shared with Tish planning their wedding in the same exact spot. Timothy wished more than anything that he was with Tish on the other side of this cycle called life, the part of the cycle called Death. He wished more than anything to just give up...but he couldn't because before he would let Death grab him and make him succumb to eternal sleep he had to send Maxwell to Hell where he belonged. Maxwell did not deserve Death's gentle hand or the guidance of the Angel to Hell, no Maxwell deserved to be in the legendary Labyrinth to forever search for an exit but never find one. To burn next to those that he idolized. Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini. And soon Tylerson would be on the most hated list as well. Death would not take kindly to Maxwell, Death would give his soul to her evil counter part, the Demon part of Death, the Demon of Death brought those who did wrong, will the black souls to Hell. To their damnation. Death was for those with souls, Maxwell had no soul. 

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