Realism Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Dirge of Crisis ❯ Foreclosure of the Hallucination/Lost Souls ( Chapter 4 )

Chapter II-4: foreclosure of the hallucination

“I don't understand this well…Could it be that...” Dallas said with uncertainty of what he had just seen in the mirror. The child stared expressionlessly at him and spoke in that same prodigious tone that his voice had upheld, “Mr. Walker is a cruel, black- hearted man who wishes you nothing but ill- will. He is jealous of your gifts of leadership and by your transformation; he should use that for his advantage. It would be his faults that everyone will perish in your glorified bask, but you cannot stop him. He has already poisoned your soul with hatred and he has drowned the real you in his lies. He has already won and all you could do is watch.” Dallas couldn't bring himself to believe it. “He does not. He knows my situation well, and that's why…” “I am sorry, but you are too far gone to be saved from Leigh's clutches. You are too weak to stand up against him; you will die before you get the chance. Surrender yourself now- it's the best you could do.” “But, I can't fathom that. He has been so good to me and….”Dallas was weak with sorrow and his heavied heart felt like the weight of the universe was upon him. He could not bring himself to accept Leigh's treachery, but if it was him who was envious, then why? Why should he go to these lengths in order to oust Dallas from his powers in the Senate?

The Senate race was nearing its start, and that was only 2 years away. And if that was the case, then he should try his hand at the election in those 2 years. Not unless…..

 

 

Chapter 3: Lost souls

Within the coming moments of the crucible he had most attested and regretted, the Nomadic revolutionary, Hidar Yamamoto, stayed himself against the smooth, azure south wall of the Manse's famed picturesque patio, deep in a purifying, cleansing thought. What he had felt by the agonizingly slow moments were a defiant clash, which would bring dishonor and condemnation by not only his people, but by the pious Allah himself- guilt had flooded his inner spirits like glacial cascade, encasing his prideful and valiant soul in a shatterproof ice. It was unbecoming of his nature to express one's guilt of the soon assassination, but had he not the one person in his life, the one person whom he had made a testament to never journey his Saudi Arabian plains with stained hands from the society induced terrorism he had taken play in; he had sobered into a heroic, self- sacrificing, and patriotic hero of the terra firma desert range of his youth. “Papa, why do you hate the Israelis so?” He could keep by heart the day he made his life altering decision to his daughter, Katejina, ever so refreshing as if it were a day before. He recalled his answer to his curious child, “Because… Because…. I don't….. It's just that…” How could he explain the concept of racism and hatred of another's beliefs to an innocent 13 year old who knew nothing of the subject? He realized the problem he upheld after the ever sassy Katejina opened his needing eyes to the truth. “You don't have an answer?! Papa, do you actually despise them for their Christendom or did the tribal elders tell you to hate them?” He shook his head somberly, “I don't exactly know. There's a part of me that presents animosity toward the peoples of Israel, but then, there's another part of me that cannot fathom the reasoning for my feelings on the matter. Years ago, Katejina, I had joined the military as a brash, fresh recruit in the chieftain's defense sector. I was willing enough to give away every cell in my body, every fiber in my being to help uphold the inherited competition between the races. I was told they were my adversaries; that was the malice that allowed my seeded hatred to grow…” “They've brainwashed you! The elders know nothing of what the Israelis suffered through! You know that, Papa. How could you hurt them even more when you don't understand them? How could you ride into battle with a clear conscience of what slaughter you would take part in?” Katejina defiantly yelled; in that notion of defense, her bold statement had hit an emotionally raw nerve in Hidar's mind. Me? Allow myself to be brainwashed? Am I just a tool, an enabler to the greed of the older generation? Why? Hidar's mind reeled in apprehension to the thought and swallowed the reality hard, “Katejina, you have opened my eyes to the truth, but for now, I have some thinking to do.” The young lady's russet eyes sparkled in her welling joy, “So, you'll try to do the right thing?” Hidar nodded affirmatively, “I will. I have failed your mother in my promise to stop my hand from grasping the sword in this ceaseless, useless battle, but….. I cannot and will not fail my child's plea for peace. Nor should I ignore the cries of our people and others in need as well.” He briefly intermitted his heroic efforts to perform the gesture of casting aside the garb he had worn for several years, the garb that had caused him such pain and slavery- the garb was a military jacket dyed in the in fashion of the desert sands. “I will no longer serve them,” he continued, “I will be their enemy, serving my tribe and country as a mercenary, defending freedom's honor at whatever cost…..”

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From the closure of his remembrance, Hidar reached for his wallet and gazed tenderly at the motivation for his change. The young lady in the picture was wearing a jade tribal dress; her hair was in a long braid and the smile she wore could light up a hushed room. She looks just like her mother, he thought to himself. She makes a father proud. A tap on the shoulder awoke him from the daydream, and a brusque yet curious voice followed, “Who is that?” Hidar folded his wallet and stood up to behold the tall, muscular young man who was cloaked in a jet- black, crimson -trimmed, executioner- style robe. From the shade from the hood's interior, flame crested eyes shined intensely. “That is my daughter, Katejina. She just turned 14 last month…. Aye, do I miss her so.” Hidar answered him. The hooded figure was silent. “Smoke, I have a question, if I may. It's regarding our mission….” Hidar requested. Smoke gratefully obliged to the matter and began, “Of course, about the planned assassination of Senator Fulton…. What do you ask?” “Well, it's just that…. How could you be so tranquil before such a ghastly mission such as this? You are still a child. It disturbs me greatly to envision someone this young to carry out an atrocity such as what we are to carry out.” Smoke was absent of remark and allowed Hidar to continue, “My apologies, Smoke. I was just speaking on the behalf of my judgment. I see I've clearly offended you.” Smoke shook his head as if a silent understanding had swept him, “No, you have not. As long as the mission is carried out without blunder…. I do not care what criticism is delivered to me.” “All right, I will not bother you with any more sentiments. Please, speak to me about the task we are to perform. Tell me the truth behind the matter, if you may.” Hidar suggested wryly. “We are to assassinate a Senator Dallas Fulton from the Republic of Texas,” Smoke explained, “As I have been told from my employer, Leigh Walker, Senator Fulton has been rather ill as of late. That was Walker's doing. For some time, he had been poisoning his meals with cyanide in order to rid the state of this nuisance. The man is on his deathbed now- delusions have possessed his psyche, pain writhes his decaying insides rapidly…..” “ Allow me to take a guess. We are to finish the job for him, correct?” Hidar interrupted.

Smoke nodded his head affirmatively, “Yes. My orders were to hold him down…. While you inject him with the remainder of the poison. It should cause his heart to fail after injection, and if he struggles, I will be the one to rip astray the very air from his dying lungs. It would be quick and none shall suspect our deed, for cyanide cannot show its presence post modem, you see.” Hidar fought the urge to remain silent and lashed his estimation forth, “So, this Leigh Walker bids me to be the hand that silences the Senator?! How now, is it because of my heritage? Are we to blame the Middle Eastern for the ousting of an American political influence? I have long suffered this discrimination at the hands of your people for years upon end, and I will be damned if I accept the act of being snared into his trap! Do tell, Smoke. What does he hope to gain by ending the life of this man?” “ He wants to gain Dallas' powers of the Senate. He wishes to end his misjudgment in the office for once and for all….” “Why? What has he done to deserve this punishment? Does this misrule have to be sealed in bloodshed?” asked Hidar. “Because,” Smoke fired back intensely, “Senator Fulton wishes a brutal police force to reside in these United States. That man has pushed for it since he was elected into office some time ago. Leigh has received intelligence reports stating which of Fulton's conspiracy to commit high treason at its peak form! Does the idea not strike fear into you, Hidar? Many innocents will be tortured at the hands of his beliefs.” “ What you've seemed to have forgotten, Smoke, is that America is not my home. It never was and I will consider it not a blissful memory. To all who reside here, I am but a savage from the plains of Saudi Arabia who yelps of worldly peace through the self- sacrifice and pointless display of a gory suicide by bomb. I can tell you many times over why I am not what you've demonized in your fantasy filled culture of lies, but you shall close your ears, open your mouths enraged, and close your hands into a fist. All because members of Al- Queada hijacked three jumbo jet liners and sent them on a collision course with the World Trade Center. I assure you, I am not like them, but as far as experience goes, justification for sorrow will make men stubborn; I will be seen as this monster adversary of God because of the fact I bend my knee to Allah. I am sorry for what they are, I am sorry that they have ruined those in the East who still show vitality for the greater good, but damn you, I am not a belligerent fool as those insurgents are!” Hidar gruffly replied to Smoke's assertion, insulted greatly by this young man's bold statements regarding his participation in the coming assassination ahead. Smoke audaciously stalked his way to Hidar's stayed form and as a matter of factly inquired, “Are you finished?” Hidar stifled an irritated huff and muttered, “Yes.” Smoke's crimson eyes flared precariously into his and in that understanding; collectively he spoke in an unbothered tone as if this recent action did not faze him, “Good. Ready yourself, the time has come. Do not let yourself or more importantly, me, down.”