Deathbed

by Desmon Arnold

A harsh wind slammed against the only window in the room, scratched and cracked from the years of wear and fogged up from the hot breath of the panicked men who barged into the large open hall of the small villages city center, leaving a trail of crimson in their wake. "My, my.. that looks horrid doesn't it." Said Suzy, the elderly secretary who sat at the desk that awaited the three who entered, with a mild hint of concern in her usually tired tone. "Well!? Don't just sit their Sue! Sam needs help! He needs help bad!" Darren called out, supporting Sam as he aided Davis in carrying him inside. "Is it Father McGlen in?" Davis said in turn. He was clearly doing his best to stay calm, but wasn't doing very well. "Yes, ah- I'll get him." Sue said, climbing to her feet in panic, just only now seeing all the blood pouring from the large wound in Samson's shoulder.
As Sue scurried off and Davis and Darren quickly followed after, having brung the injured Samson with, Samson would look up. His vision a blurry haze because of all the blood loss, but the picture started to clear. Only now, after the ten minute trek of a walk as he was dragged through the snow filled forest was he able to see. The first thing his eyes would lock onto was a women. Her body indescribably terrifying. Height nearly reaching the ceiling, with large black tendrils of shadow produced themselves from her tall and frail looking body. Two piercing blue eyes stared with a horrid intensity like that of a killer straight into Samson's soul, as the jet black woman grew closer. He reeled back, pulling himself free from his friends support in terror. "No! I don't want to go! I'll be fine... just let me walk I'll be fine just let me walk!" He cried out, desperate and pained, as his weak body collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, only causing more damage to his already broken ribs. Davis and Darrin both turn, eyes wide. "Sam you stupid lug! Get up! We need to get you help!" Davis said, almost begging as his eyes welled. Seeing his friend in this state was awful. "He's not listening!" Darren shouted, kneeling down to help up Samson, who was still doing his best to pull away. "You're gonna be fine, okay?" Davis said softly, leaning down to help Darren and sling Sam's left arm over his shoulders. "Let's just get you to a bed..."

• • • • •

"Ow! Ow! Please stop that hur-" The young Darren's words, panicked and scared, were interrupted by the swift and hard kick to his abdomen. "Oh? It hurts does it? I'm so terribly sorry... That's not at all what I meant to do at all!" The larger kid, maybe 12 years old if you judged by his height, cried as he sent a second kick straight into the 6 year old's ribs. "Maybe next time, you'll learn to give me back my stuff." The bully would grin. Not too far off, tied up by his own winter coat to a larger oaken branch, dangling, and sobbing, was a much younger Davis. No older than 3 at the time, as his snotty nose dribbled down past his chin and onto the snow beneath him. "Not your ball!" Davis cried out, though it was almost impossible to make out the words through the tears. "Not my ball, huh?" The bully replied, looking back and grinning at the strung up child. "Well if it's yours..." He said, taking a few steps back. "Why don't you catch it!" He'd call, laughing with malicious glee as he'd slam the inside of his foot into the pigskin ball sat nearby, kicking it up with a heavy spin straight into Davis' nose. A loud "Crack!" is heard, as the ball ricocheted off to the side. Davis had no words to respond to this, only immediate screaming and crying as his hands flew up to hold his presumably broken nose.

The bully just stood and laughed with arms crossed victoriously for a while, before his win would be cut short. A large rock, about the size of a soft ball, would find itself falling from the sky above, having been thrown in a long arc, and slamming dead center into the bully's mouth. He'd immediately find himself staggering back at that, moving his small hands up to clutch his mouth, holding the few now loose teeth still, and making sure any that made their way out. The bully said nothing. He only screamed in agony, and ran off running for his mommy. Within moments, Davis found himself pulled to his feet, and a large ball of ice was gently pressed to the bridge of his nose. "Just hold that there, alright?" Samson said, looking down at the terrified child. Davis looked up, and seeing a familiar face, was relieved. He'd nod, and try and put on a confident and fearless demeanor for his savior. "How often does one of the big kids really help one of us?" He though, smiling a bit at the idea as he stumbled back to lean against the tree. Samson would make his way over to Darren and help him up as well. "You alright? He didn't get you nearly as bad." Sam would say, looking down at the young boy with concern. "I-.. yeah, yeah I'm fine." Darren would say, in complete aw. "I.. thank you for saving us." He'd say, trying his best to stop himself from shaking. "It's honestly no problem, buddy. Stick around me. That dunderhead is like, half my size, and I'm not even 11 yet! I've got your back, alright?"

• • • • •

Samson would regain consciousness on a bed within the abbey next door. His arms would be at his side, as an grey haired man in his forties would be leaned over investigating his wound. "Son.. ya really did bang yourself up good, huh? The hell happened?" He'd say, glancing up to the now conscious Sam. Davis and Darren stood bedside, watching with worry. "We were hunting, Father. We got a bit too close to a deer, and I.. I spooked em, Father. It ran our way and it rammed right into him! I'm sorry.. this is all my fau- oof!" Davis would say, stumbling over his words before a swift elbow from Darren would strike his chest, winding him. "That aside, Doc. He gonna be okay?" Darren asked, arms crossed as he tapped his foot anxiously. "I.. I don't know, boys. I think he'll be okay." He smiled up at them, before looking down and running a wet cloth over Samson's chest, cleaning the wound.
As Samson's eyes darted around, the same misty vision would be stood behind his two friends. It's body a darkened grey as it's gaunt form's long, clawed arms hung towards the floor. Standing a foot taller than his friends, the figure rocked side to side like a pendulum counting time. Samson panicked, looking between his friends. "I-I can't believe you did that!" He cried, face flushing with frustration, his motions only making the Father's work harder. "You clumsy oaf I can't believe you! It's always you, Davis! You're such an idiot why do we bring you anywhere!" He shouted, anger welling in his face, as Darren growled and stepped forward. "Calm down, moron! He basically carried you all the way here, since my arm is still weak from getting my cast off! You should be thanking him or you'd be dead in the snow right now!" Darren defended, as Davis glanced backwards in shame, head looking away. "He damn right better have carried me back!" Samson called back, eyes welling from the pain of his motions. "I bet he's wishing right now he'd damned hadn't! You would have died out there!" Darren shot back, stepping forward with anger, before Sam would growl and shout. "Out there?.. Out there!? I'm gonna die right damn here because of him!"
"Is my husband in their!?" A panicked voice called from outside, making their way into the abbey and towards the room that Samson and the others were in. She was a long blonde haired woman, younger looking. Elegant in the face, with soft blue eyes. She pushed on past those in her way and swung the door open. "Is Sam okay!?" She cried, concern in her tone as he rushed to the bleeding mans side. Her eyes were welled with tears as she kneeled at his bedside and took his hand. "Please, Samson... speak to me. Are you okay? Can you breath?" Samson heard this. He heard every word and yet he could not move. "Please, tell her you're fine." He thought. "Just tell her everything is gonna be okay. Her tears aren't worth this." The words echoed through his head and yet he could not speak.
As his eyes raised from the face of his wife to the woman standing behind her, he caught a glimpse of a simple woman. Thin, and clad in armor. Black armor, the plates looking to be of a pure volcanic glass as the scale like tile overlay reflected the evening light that managed through the cracks in the old wooden building. The woman simple shook her head. His expression fell, and though he did not speak, his wife saw this. His lip began to quiver as he inhaled sharply, and the woman leaned over to hug him. "Please... whoever you are... whatever you are... I'm not done yet. I don't want this. I'll do anything. I have children... I have a wife... I have a family... don't take them away from me- no, don't take me away from them!" He cried out in his mind, hoping anyone could here. Even so, he laid still. Weak, helpless, clad in bandage and losing blood. Samson remained silent.
Two sets of soft steps approached the room, and as the Father, Darren, and Davis looked to the door, his wife too concentrated on Samson, two young children stepped in. One no older than 12, holding the hand of one around half that age. The two looked scared. The younger more confused than anything else, but the older was already in tears. He was old and smart enough to know what this meant. He could see the fading light in his fathers eyes glance his way, and as he locked eyes with his father he say the most incredible thing in the reflection of his tear swelled eyes. A woman, standing behind him. The boy looked back, confused, and saw nothing. He then turned, and frowned as he saw the woman again. She wore simple clothing, a ragged looking dress. She was thin, underfed for sure, but not gaunt or anything close. Her hair was silver and shoulder-length, but it was thin and faded. The boy frowned at his father. "F-Father.. D-Dad.. I...I... please no!" He called out, bursting into tears and only now alerting his mother of his presence as he let go of his sisters hand and ran to his fathers side. "No! Dad! No please don't give up yet! Don't go with the lady Dad don't do it! You're strong! You can live! You're my here dad, I need you and I don't know what me or Liz will do without you, please Dad..." The boy had begun to sob uncontrollably, but his words shook the room. Darren and Davis stepped back, and the Father glanced around at the room at the mention of a lady. The mother simply moved to her daughters side, clutching her even more confused toddler close to her chest as she did her best to suppress the tears for her child. "Dad... please..." The boy continued. "Don't let the lady take you away..."

• • • • •

"Three... two... one! Alright, you can open your eyes now." Samson said, beaming with excitement as he pulled the sheet off of the new swing set he had built. Tall sturdy wooden supports, built with in a triangle shape to keep from toppling. Along the main body of the set hung two swings, each with chair like benches hung up by tightly secured rope. Both children looked up in complete and utter awe. They were amazed, the eldest son almost being moved to tears. "Dad! This is so cool!" He cried, looking to his sister as his grin widened, before looking back at Samson, who looked almost more excited than the kids were. "Can we try?! Can we try?!" Samson would smile, and nod. "Of course you can try, Junior. It's yours now, ya?" The boy grinned, before he'd feel a soft tug at his shirt. He'd look down at the creature tugging on his tunic, and he'd be met with the large eyed gaze of his sister. "I.. uh.. can you push me..?" She'd say, her shy tone almost making her hard to hear of the distant singing of summer songbirds. Junior would grin, and nod. "Of course I can!" He'd say, smiling wide as his hands would slip under her arms and lift her up in the air. "You ready?!" He'd ask, though his words were nearly drowned out by the ocean of giggles that had been unleashed by the child being thrown up into the air. Once Junior had Liz in the seat, they'd both look to Samson, who'd be stood nearby with a proud smile on his face. Both of his construction, and of his children. "Dad!" Junior would call, looking to Liz who'd nod at him in understanding. They'd both look back to Samson. "Thank you!" Liz would call, before they'd both speak in unison.

"We love you, Dad!"
"We love you, Dad!"
• • • • •

"I... It's going to be okay, K-Kid.." Samson let out, using the last of the breath in his lungs to speak as his arms weakly moved to wrap around his son. "I... you're strong. You're a big, strong boy, and you're gonna be the man of the house.. okay?" He'd say, eyes not leaving his son. Those in the background stood and watched. Mariah, his wife, glanced away as tears trailed down her cheeks. Davis stood outside the room, harrowed with guilt, but not far enough away as to miss his friends final words. Darren stood bedside, arms crossed, though his expression quite grim. The Father sat bedside as well, opposite to Junior as he mumbled a soft prayer to himself. "No!" Junior called. "Just hold on a bit longer! The would doesn't even look that bad.. you've survived worse before right? Just hang in a bit longer and the Father can heal you! Dad please!" He'd cry, soaking Samson's shoulder with snot and tears as the boy cried and screamed into his clothes, clinging onto his father like at any point he could be wrenched from his grasp and he didn't want to let go.
Samson had more to say. He could talk for hours. All the wisdom he wanted to pass on, all of the advice, and all of the love... but in the end, Samson had no more breath. He'd used it all, and his time was up. He'd glance up, past his crying son to see a beautiful woman. Her body and face elegant, wearing a simple silk gown that covered her legs and dragged across the floor. Her hair was a magnificent silver, and eyes a gorgeous sky blue, though glowing ever softly. She'd mouth words, but not speak them. Samson understood perfectly, though. "Are you ready?" She'd said, and without hesitation, he'd nodded. "I have to be." He thought, as he'd sit up. He'd slowly climb to his feet, and look down at the hand being offered to him. This time, when she spoke, he could hear it. "You'll see them again in time." She'd say, smiling softly at Samson as he slowly slipped his hand into hers. "In the end, every road of every life, leads to me."

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