Memoirs of an Angry Sentinel Who Took Pride in His Grisly Work

Prompt: Include the line “I thought you were dead” or “We buried you” in your story.

Memoirs of an Angry Sentinel Who Took Pride in His Grisly Work

The weather today was much like any other day this time of the season. The sun dimly peaked just above the horizon behind a few feathery clouds. The air was crisp but soon would warm with the rising sun.I stood at my watch like any other soldier, but I was also in charge of a few armed soldiers. It was only a couple of days before the town would be swarmed with thousands of revelers celebrating the upcoming holiday. Some were already parading into the town like they owned it. People were cheering wildly throwing things at the participants. All hell seemed to be breaking loose until they entered into the city and the craziness subsided.

If the insanity continued into the town, one major misstep by any of these revelers would represent treason in my book. I had the authority to implement swift justice on the spot. Perhaps a reminder of guts and entrails on the roadway would be a fine reminder of the consequences of disorderly conduct. I liked my responsibility, but I was prudent not to exercise improper judgement because of past events.

One would have never guessed that several months ago blood and body parts littered the highway from revolutionists as well as some of my valiant soldiers. It was a ghastly sight and it smelled of death and decay. It took a week’s worth of rainy days to wash the carcasses into the gullies and creeks. Since the civil unrest occurred outside the town many of the townsfolk did not venture out to see the aftermath. I suspect because of the upcoming holiday, residents decided to deliberately forget the horror of those days. Since then, the militia has been on edge with frayed nerves. I on the other hand, welcomed a good, bloody confrontation as a reminder of justice, particularly if I came out on the victorious end.

Yet even with my tough attitude, I still dreaded this time of year. Most of the townsfolk celebrated in moderation, but there were a few rabble rousers who thought they could undermine the authorities. It was those individuals who made my job difficult. They were charged and ready to explode with a blast of flaming anger pointed at us.  The problem was trying to identify them from the throngs of people before the trouble actually gained a foothold. 

The few remaining men in my squad were on full alert. There would be no holiday leave for any of the men, but I didn’t believe they would care. I know I did not care either. It was one of those religious holidays that no one in the militia practiced or even outwardly discussed. Besides, I would rather execute those blasphemers who ridiculed the gods of the heavenly bodies. The planets would soon be in alignment and sacrifices would be made.   Without the requisite offerings, the spirits would be restless and hungry for something.Perhaps maybe another blood bath of these misguided town people and revelers would satisfy the voracious appetites of the gods? Well, it was not going to be my choice unless I was pushed too far.

It is uncanny about the spirits. They have an annoying way of physically pestering a person into believing something really big is going to happen.  That was happening to me today. I felt a spirit troubling my stomach.  My nauseous intestines suggested that something big was about to descend upon this town. I feared the worst, but I welcomed it at the same time. This was what I was paid to do, and I was very good at it.

It was midday when I learned of trouble. I was making my rounds around the outskirts of the town when I noticed a disturbance between vendors. Two of them angrily approached me. One said,

“Who gives an outsider the right to make a spectacle of himself in front of our paying clients?”

The other said, “His audacious behavior is unacceptable in accordance with the rules of the town’s commerce laws. He has cost me a whole day’s wage!”

Somewhat irritated by the pettiness of their arguments, I tersely said, 

“You waste my time on these civil matters? I ought to have both of you thrown into prison! Or would you want to have your tongue cut out instead?”

Both men hastily fled. “Well, that was easy enough,” I thought to myself. If only the rest of the day would follow suit.  I spoke too soon.

The sunlight was fading and the evening was quickly upon us. For the moment, the town was quiet with people observing the holiday. Unfortunately, word had spread of a mob action in a public garden. According to a spectator, two groups were on the verge of violence. In fact, weapons were drawn but nothing had yet happened. My squad and I arrived in time to see the two groups part their separate ways. One group, however, disbanded in all different directions. I partially heard one man in the crowd say, “I could have easily had twelve legions release me, but I allowed this to happen.” The mob continued to be agitated.

His statement troubled me. I suspected this man was a leader of some rebel faction. Perhaps he had those legions camped at a distance from the town out of plain sight. At his beckoning call those forces could be in the town in no time. There were no additional armed men to back up my paltry squad. I had no backup plan. I needed to know the fate of this man taken by the angry mob. 

So as not to heighten the anxiety of the people, I told my men to continue with their normal rounds. I would follow this suspect to learn where they were taking him. I had to be discreet because this action was still a private matter and not a matter concerning the state.  A small crowd gathered outside apparently waiting to hear the disposition of this individual. I could hear some shouting and a small raucous inside, but I did not make out what had been said. I decided it was late and I would return at dawn’s first light.

But upon returning the next morning, there was no one outside the building where the suspect had been taken. Instead, he was taken to the public assembly area where government announcements were frequently held.   When I finally arrived there, the crowd was at a fever pitch.  Deeply unnerved, I said to my men,

“We need to withdraw from this area. It seems that whatever was announced has driven the people to a fever pitch. We just don’t have enough men to quell an insurrection at this point. Move out of the area back toward the barracks. Prepare to mount defensive measures. I suspect the crowd is out for blood! We in like kind will strike back to defend!”

But the din of the crowd subsided because the government made the decision to release a known murderer instead. Apparently, the crowd traded old blood for new blood. I was aghast and knew this would mean trouble in the future. I retreated to the barracks where my men were awaiting a new directive.

Working orders came down that I was to take the prisoner for punishment. I scrambled to the place where the suspect was being held captive. Local guards had already stripped the suspect down to the waist. He already looked emaciated and half dead after a few beatings.

I looked at him squarely in the eyes.

“Who are you and why are you in this town? You have aggravated a lot of people. Where are these legions of men? Answer me! I heard you speak of them last night!” 

He did not speak a word.

I was so infuriated with the man. He made my job more difficult by not answering my questions. I spit in his face and cursed him. I wanted him to suffer because he had amped up the frenzy of the crowd and the anger within me. He would feel my wrath as I would torture him slowly. I would delight in hearing his blood curdling pleas to end his suffering.

But the governor had other plans. He decided he would hang from a dead tree like all the other traitors. I had no doubt that this would be the right thing to do. For judgement’s sake, I needed to ensure that if the people lusted for blood, let them hear his agonizing cries as iron pierced his body. Let them see the blood run from his wounds. Let them see his body droop from the leafless tree as the sun burned his exposed body. And, in time, let them see the vultures pluck out his eyes. Finally, let his anguished cries for mercy go unanswered!

Late toward dusk, I ordered one of my men to return to the tree to see if he was dead. I learned that my soldier drew his sword and pierced the side of the instigator. Blood and water splashed him in the face. The impact of the spurting body fluids terrified him so much he ran back to the barracks. He would certainly later face an execution squad by my hands for his cowardness.

During this whole ordeal as I made my rounds, the skies became dark throughout the land. It was eerily quiet except for the offender spewing out a few cries that were indistinguishable to my ears. A few people had still gathered at the execution site. I tried to motion them to move on, but they refused. Normally, I would have struck them down, but the winds had become so intense I needed to seek cover.

The darkening skies turned ugly. Bolts of lightning created flash fires. A torrential rain fell from the sky. The earth was rumbling causing buildings to collapse. People ran from their homes screaming. The guards I had placed at the execution site abandoned their posts. I was deeply angered by the insubordination of my men. I would deal with them harshly at another time.

The quake and disturbance were over before evening had set. I received another order from the governor to turn over the body for burial. I watched carefully as the burial party took custody of the body. Certainly, the traitor was dead. I know. I checked his lifeless body as they pulled him down. Nonetheless, I was concerned his followers would abscond with the body to incite the hiding armies into a fervor. I had to be sure that did not happen. So, I stayed outside the burial site in case the body would be moved. Nothing happened. Many hours had passed through the night and still nothing happened.

I returned early morning to the barracks satisfied nothing was going to happen. There would be no invading armies. There would be no insurrection.  The pestilence of a revolution had been stamped out. I quashed the vermin responsible for this uncertainty. It was the beginning of a new week and the sun shone brightly. I had great hope for the new day. Perhaps the town would be at peace. The townspeople would be respectful of the armed militia and the order I restored. But then, I felt the ground rumble. The earth was shaking. Suddenly it stopped. I continued on with my rounds.

A few days later while on patrol, I heard a rumor from an informant. This is what he told me.

“The insurrectionist you hung last week has been seen walking among his followers! The man is not dead!”

“I saw his death, you fool! I saw it with my very own eyes! There is no way he could suffer the torture, the piercings, and the asphyxiation on that tree! I made him suffer and bleed to death! He was dead when they took him down. I touched his lifeless corpse!”

The informant said,

“Come, I will prove it to you.”

He led me into a small house not far from the graveyard where he was buried. I was astonished seeing him standing among a few of his followers. Was it a ghost? I touched him feeling actual skin and flesh. I choked on my words as I nervously said, “I thought you were dead! We buried you! Who in fact are you?”

He said to me, “I am Jesus, the Christ. ‘I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, the First and the Last.”

“And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?”

-END-

 (Revelation 22:13, New King James Version, Thomas Nelson, Inc.) and John 11:26

Author: Peter M Gautchier

Acknowledgement: Reedsyprompts.com