The Third Reflection

And everyone saw him, they all saw him. They saw Warden Reynolds leave his office carrying the body of William Cauther. But no one, no one said anything, the secretary mearly glanced at him then continued writing her meaningless words. That night he slid Willie’s body under his bed, and that morning he burried him before the church. Making sure to make him an urn, then smiling his smug smile as he made it known of who killed the boy.
And life went on, and on, and on, and no one ever wondered what happened to William Cauther. It had seemed as if he never exsisted. No one visited his home, asking for any rent nor companionship. Not even Anna Laurice, his own fiance payed his death any mind, and the warden had simultaniously moved into the boy’s poorly handled home. And as time passed Warden John Reynolds died and a new William Cauther was born. He had bleached his hair an unnatural color of blonde, and stuck pins in his eyes; they slowly pailed blue. He was William Cauther in the end wasn’t he.
Time passed as time normally does, William Cauther aged as most men do, he had married the girl of his dreams, Anna Laurice and they had three children, Mary, Bonnie, and Reginald. And he loved all of his children. However he was now old, he was only 31 and yet his body was withering though everyone ignored the years piled upon his exterior body, they all knew he was to die soon. He sat on the floor near his dear son Reginald’s bed and read him a story of fanfare.
“So time slowed for the people of the village of the world that never was, and everyone saw true happiness, and-” William Cauther was cut off by his son.
“Daddy, how can there be a world if there never was?” young Redinald asked naively.
“Well, Reggie. This is a precoscious thought for a young boy your age, you are only eight and already such curiousity. You remind me of my father.”
“Who was Grandpop?” The boy said suckling gently on the tips of his small fingers.
“Well Dillan Briar was, he was a kind man. However he died much before you were born. And at any rate, he was very immature, childish, you could almost call him lost in time.” He continued on as the pail skinned boy slowly fell to sleep. Willie stood up and gave his son a husky kiss then rubbed his near hairless head. Standing up he turned to the door to be greeted by his loving wife. The many hours after he lay awake, tired from exhaustion and hyper from anxiety. He thought in his head smiling down on his wife as he blinked,

“William Cauther could become yet again Dillan Briar, however if that were to happen he would die, and my time as John Reynolds has taken up most of my life. Only I know the secret of the eternal Omecron and I must keep it and allow no one to steal it away. However there can be no death if Dillan Briar never exsists, so if I live I must kill the next Dillan Briar. Who will be Reginald Eliy Cauther.” He thought as he gathered himself, pulling on his filthy pants, dirtied from working in the saloon and walkied down the creaky hall.
He smiled as he saw Bonnie and Mary craddeled together in bed, he then peered into the next room to see Reginald laying sleepily in his poorly kept bed. ‘Such a filthy bedroom, how insolent are you Dillan Briar?’ he said to himself as he rolled into the igmorant boy’s room.
He grabbed his tool ax from the hall closet and slowly dragged it into the room, he would not need it tonight but it would come to use if anybody should hear. He picked up the dampened pillow from below his child’s head and threw it over his face. Then with great force he strained down as Reginald snapped awake desperatly trying to gasp for air. He flailed his arms trying to find an ounce of oxygen but it was too late. Dillan Briar was dead once again.
Willie sighed, another job had been completed, he shook away the little regret he felt over killing his own son and returned to bed to once again remember his father. That morning he was called to see the warden for some apparent crime he had committed after Docter Dillan Briar’s dead corpse was found he was instantly accused.
Willie quickly paced up and down the creeky floor boards of the police station, remembering back; trying to figure out how he had gotten there. The black soles of his crocodile shoes scraped the floor when the young secretary of warden Reynalds called upon him.

“He will see you now.” she spoke very blatent in her proud sitting position. He walked gingerly into the office of Mr. John Reynolds; he was rocking in his seat near his desk twirling his pencil gently between his fingers when he looked upon Willie.

He suddenly stopped and smiled, “Willie, I never expected it of you. You to be the one to murder Docter Briar…” he continued chuckling smugly to himself “It was beyond my comprehension that someone like you could be a killer.”

That night had been oblivious to him but Willie knew all along, it had been Warden Reynolds that killed Docter Briar that night and not him. Docter Briar had been found dead with not a trace of blood nor sweat nor struggle.Not a gash of any shape; yes, Docter Briar was not killed with a knife nor hands nor any projectile, he was killed with words.

A tear ran a long line down Willies face, he looked down on the ground ashamed that he could do this to …to his own Father even.

“Why did you do it, Willie? Didn’t Docter Briar treat you with the most love and honor and highest respect that a step-father could? Was he not protecting and sacred to you or was he just as disposable as the broken whiskey bottle under your bed?”

Willie was drawn aback by his forwardness and his awarness of his intentions, he did want to kill Docter Briar; he was selfish and insolent and moreover an incompetent father, but it was not his intention to actually kill him.

‘There can be only one way’ Willie thought. ‘One way, John Reynolds is not John Reynolds because John Reynolds is William Cuather. John Reynolds is the adopted truth in William Cuather’s being, he exsists to help him live and he furthermore exsists to kill him. William Cuather was William Cuather until he moved to South City and was adopted by Docter Dillan Briar. Then Dillan Briar died and William Cuather became Dillan Briar and Warden John Reynolds became William Cuather!’

As Willie finished the thought Warden John Reynolds came to him holding a spin of rope tied into a circle. He drew the circle around Willies head and silently yelled his goodbyes as he exited his office, as all time stopped, as love turned to hate, as the men turned to beasts, as the world stopped spinning, as life ended for William Cuather, as he jumped from the Wardens desk and lost his life. Without a trace of blood nor sweat nor struggle. Not a gash of any shape; yes, William Cuather was not killed with a knife nor hands nor any projectile, he was killed with words.

The Third Reflection

Cynthia Washington

Joined February 2008

  • Artist

Artist's Description

There are a lot of traumatioc scenes in this so a warning for all of you, this is scary stuff. mentally that is. This is the sequal to the third image or you could call it a prequal, a lot of people had no idea what was going on so this should explain a lot. Also you have to have read the Third image to understand eny of this.I repeat, This is really really creepy.

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