Killing Death

by Michael LaRocca

Have you heard the tale of that brave warrior who, while lying on  the battlefield, decided that he did not want to die?

As he felt his own hot blood trickling through his fingers, he  thought it grossly unfair that his life should end.  Most men die with  quiet resignation, but others go down with hatred in their eyes and a curse on their lips.  This brave warrior belonged to the latter  breed.  Have you not heard of him?

"Beyond this gate lies the end of your suffering."

"And what if I do not want it to end?"

"Then I shall wait."

Thus did Death wait patiently as our hero raised up his rifle,  stabbed its bayonet into the ground, and slowly lifted himself to his  feet.  The eternally patient Death looked on emotionlessly.

Did you know that a human being has roughly 30 feet of intestines  coiled up within his body?  So it was that our hero reached into his own  bowels and pulled them out.  He threw them around Death's arms and bound him so that he could not escape.  Then our hero picked up Death's sickle and chopped off his evil head.

If you kill a person or an animal, it dies.  But if you kill Death,  then all will live. Think of it: never again must the spark of a  human life be extinguished.

Could anything be better than that?

Even now, do you not hear the screams of the dying?  The people in the cancer wards with the stench of rotting guts?  The twisted figures in the burning automobiles?  The lovers who leap from the cliffs and crawl back up in agony to leap again?

Do you not hear the cries of the elderly who lie paralysed?  The  policeman with the bullet lodged in the grotesque remains of his skull?  The deformed foetus and its dying mother?  Do you not hear the screams of the man in the electric chair, or the man on the cross, or our brave hero himself?

For now that there is no Death, but only eternal life, there can be no end to their suffering.  Now they crave an end to life above all  else, but still it will not come.

Even now, are you not screaming with them?

Copyright © 1987 Michael LaRocca

Michael LaRocca was born in North Carolina in 1963, and grew up in NC and Florida.  After almost twenty years as a part-time writer, last year he moved to Hong Kong and became a full-time writer.