|- Bones in the Grass -|
When he was just a child, Nomed was raised by a loving Mother that cherished and spoiled him. She was always there for him, even when his Father raged out of control at the mere sight of… his different-ness. His Mother had always said that he was special. She caressed his bruises, while telling him stories of great men that were always a little different from the regular people. His Father also taught him. He learned from his Father that pain and suffering can also lead to greatness. He learned how he could withstand tremendous perils to the body and to the mind. He would go to a place, a secret place, which only he had the key to. The horrors around him were only on the outside with his Father and the teaching tools of the day. On the inside, in his secret place, he could run and hide, savoring in the knowledge that he was a great man, a man that was not like the others, only ordinary and normal. He was special. He was destined to be the leader of the others, their ruler.
When his Father died, Nomed was on the eve of becoming a man. This only served to harden his belief that he was destined for greatness. He was then left with his Father’s pension, a doting Mother, and the time and freedom to explore his abilities. He spent leisurely hours indulged by his Mother and strolling around the small village where he had been born and raised. At first, he was met by the common people with fear and loathing, but in time he learned that he could control the minds of the common people with only his words. With practice, he had eventually learned to control and influence most of them into a frenzy of uncontrolled rage and pure hatred. He could influence the masses to throng around anything he wished and act without thought to the consequences. Nomed was not subhuman like his Father, who in drunken rages had insisted regularly and to anyone that would listen. Nomed was more then a man. He was almost a god. And there was only one thing stopping him from becoming a god. It was the deformity, the curse. Nomed had to keep it a secret, at all costs, or he would lose everything he had gained through years of careful planning, grueling labor, unjust imprisonment, and a childhood full of pain and torment.
That little revelation by a small and isolated group of cancerous seers didn’t go unpunished. The people responsible suffered and not just the few but the whole of their people. Somehow they knew of Nomed’s… special-ness. They knew that he was different and the leaders of their motley gathering places were able to tell, somehow, that Nomed was really created from a different mold then the rest of humanity. They knew, even before seeing him, that he was still an unfinished creation, a work in progress. Nomed, The Leader, the real master of the physical universe, would complete the job that was, regrettably, left undone.
If it wasn’t for all the troublesome creatures that were drawn to Nomed, the job would have been finished long ago. Those few, specific… females of the human species wanted to trap him, to keep him for there own. They fought over him and committed themselves to his whims, his wonderings in the world of substance. He was seduced by them and all it brought them was death; and by their own hand. They could never have understood the depth of his knowledge, his awareness. Nomed was no human, to be toyed with and controlled. He was… almost… a god. When the last of the truly rapt of them all won out over the others, she too served her purpose and in the end, she too would die. In the end, they would all die.
His doctor tried to right the wrong that had been done to Nomed. The Doctor gave him organic compounds, metallic compounds, and combinations of medicine and magic to try to complete Nomed. He was destined to greatness and the doctor saw this and wanted to ride to glory with him. The doctor searched for the exact potion to do the job, but it was to no avail. Nomed was made unfinished and would remain that way it seemed, until that one day towards the end of the war between the innocent and the unknowing. They all played their game in ignorance of the real war, the war to come, and the war of all wars. And the Doctor thought that he would ride the tide into the next century on the bulbous back of the unfinished creature, Nomed.
The fire was intense. It engulfed everything in the spacious underground lair. Above ground, the tanks and military apparatus battled for what was left of the empire. The side of the unknowing was to be decimated. The side of the innocents would also suffer and in the end, fail. Only Nomed would know of the truth of what had occurred. His generals would run and hide; some would be caught and punished for following Nomed and for wanting to be… Nomed. The lair would be utterly burnt and no one would know of Nomed’s deceit, of Nomed’s rise to power in another time and place. The doctor would serve his purpose; dressed with boots and burnt, along with the last soulless human female that selfishly clung to Nomed.
In the end, Nomed would be completed. Nomed would do the job himself. Nomed was more then a man. Nomed was a god. Nomed… NOMED… nomeD… N-O-M-E-D… d-e-m-o-n… demon… The true battle was yet to occur; when Nomed was whole. Now there was only fire, pain, retching, blistering, rage, control, seduction, death, emptiness, Amalek.
A short story by D. Noll © all rights reserved