21 Lives

Suspense Stories | Dec 8, 2012 | 14 min read
108 Votes, average: 4 out of 5
Suspense Stories

21 Lives

Mason Baird
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From time to time, everyone loses a loved one, and you have to experience a period of memorable mourns that submerge yourself in a rain of downhearted tears every time you process imagining the past you had with the person. They could still be alive today, or they could of past away awhile ago, but the feeling of just knowing you were there in their part of atmosphere bestows you extreme distress strapped throughout your whole body. That uncontrollable spirit overwhelms you to act out in society, looking downward at the people you are supposed to respect and learn from. This is a corrupt fucking world we live in today. The best thing to do when in that type of situation is to just be yourself; it could possibly grant you the strength to recover with something which will benefit yourself in the unknown future. Keep your chin up with jubilant hope in your mind, and do not let your insecurities eat away at your goals and dreams in life. Always be proud of who you are, because maybe the person who you are can be someone someday. ~ Infamous McMason

In 2010, a single father awaited in his dining room in the house that was soon to be a victim of eviction from tax evasion. His name was Thomas Palmer, a thirty-two year old that was the only parent to two children: Derrick who was seven, and Jen who was only three. He became a single parent after Jen was born in Kuma, Ohio on September 14th, 2007. On Christmas day of that year, His wife Jade Wagner abandoned the family without saying a word to anyone, and left town. That was their Christmas gift when they woke up, and they opened that present without even unwrapping it like the ones that were not under the tree in the living room. No pictures of that day would ever be found in a photo album of those children.

As he patiently waited for his kids to come downstairs for their nightly supper, Thomas sat at the dinner table picking at his peas on the left side of his plate next to the main meal of the supper in the middle; steak which was medium rare, while his children's were both medium as how they liked it. He had his head resting on his left hand while his dominant hand fed him the peas stabbed onto the four metal lines on the fork. They were delicious and astonishing, and edible, along with his steak that tasted hard frequently in previous dinners; rupturing and bearing like if you were to bite down on a strap of real leather. His children would think otherwise unfortunately, as they were not too fond of vegetables - any vegetables in fact -, and rather just aim their direction of appetites at the steak - was not very excellent according to Derrick -, and drink away their two percent reduced fat milk. They did exactly that when they sat down at their small dinner table.

The dinner table had four chairs that were immobile, and all three of them watched quietly and conspicuously at the fourth empty chair with vexation like it was their entertainment channel in a reality, itinerant television as they ate. Thomas was glancing foreword always at the chair, never engaging in an average sociable conversation with his children. His son Derrick, for once, asked if he could go outside and play with a boy from school after dinner, named Trashawn, and Thomas replied:" Trashawn sounds like a black name. You know what I told you about black people, Derrick." Derrick looked down and said:" I know. All black people are niggers. Sorry for asking, dad." Thomas nodded. He did not want to associate with black people in his life anymore. He did not even want to talk to his children. He wanted to talk to Jade.
The incident which happened in the fall of 1996, held the twenty-one lives responsible. Fourteen year old, Jade Wagner, and eighteen year old, Thomas Palmer were found as victims. Both of them had to let it happen, as it was the only way to win their necessity in life.

Jade was a nurtured brunette woman who participated immensely in helping out in children hospitals and was invariable to needing, and to consign love to the homeless at the local soup kitchen where she lived. Every Saturday she was in there; it was an absolute favorite hangout joint of hers on the weekends. Only being a freshmen when Thomas was a senior; Thomas found love in the fourteen year old girl's heart when he introduced himself to her in the Kuma Public Library - she spent her weekdays there -, by speaking out a few terms of Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird, which she was reading lonely, incarcerated away from any social activity at the table she was sitting at in the East Wing section of the library. Thomas found her here by herself usually, reading a book, coming from out of school with her bag full of textbooks and other novels in the process of current progression.

Thomas was fascinated instantly at Jade's work of amelioration, by her tactics of obsessive study time in the public library until the five o'clock closing. He once watched her read an entire physics book from start to end, which inspired him to receive an amount of courage to walk into her alienated zone, come up paced haltingly in a bit of neuroticism - which was absconded completely by his mild emotions the exact moment when his left hand pulled out the immobilized chair, sitting a foot vertically to hers -, and her appalling violet-colored book bag, laying down on the brand name side of the bag. The handles dangled off the edge of the table, which exposed the books inside of her bag when Thomas looked when he sat down, introducing himself with delight.

He spoke of the racial inequality and the humor that was included in the novel she was reading. Jade was addicted completely with Thomas when she listened to him tell the accurate information to her from the book, and his overall opinion on the topic of rape and racism. He despised both; mostly when telling the condition he would interfere when in the presences of vulgar comments associated or aimed directly to another race. Rape- he never overcame any disrespectful occurrence to it; it was not even a conducted topic talked about in any conversation he had, especially with a man of his age. It was shun upon towards his views and ethnical beliefs.

That evening in the Kuma Public Library, Thomas offered to ask Jade to the homecoming that was scheduled on a Friday, two weeks from that day. An accelerating smile was seen on her exquisite face that night from Thomas's eyes as she accepted briefly his desire with open arms, latching an unbreakable, exaggerated hug on his firm body. They both could not wait until that Friday night.

Jade lived on an estimate of three blocks away from the public library, and Thomas from his mental deciding, requested that he should be a gentleman and walk her home safe. She was flattered and accepted. They began to continue the discussing of the homecoming dance that was arriving shortly. They agreed to accompany each other during the shopping that would follow the next afternoon of searching for the inimitable outfits for themselves to pair with, and have the look on people's faces when they walk into the school gym, which would tell them comprehensively, that they were the most unique and the cutest couple at tonight's homecoming dance.

Thomas lured Jade to a lonesome alley path shortcut next to the town's post office, as it was the quickest way to Jade's house from the library. The vermilion-disc opaque colored sun was descending gradually around the radius from the photosynthetic pigment carotene swirls, absorbing through and tainting bantam portions of the cloudscape sky. The asphalt concrete alley went in a cross junction at the median. Blacken skid marks on the asphalt from high school kids' bicycles made aberrant Rorschach images which were unpredictable absolutely in any shape or form. Almost like the shape of death.

It is like if the Devil is trying to pull us to Hell using mystical gravitation, and evaporate us below Earth. For an example - that is why when you see a drunk man stumbling and falling down, or perhaps a toddler pushing up the feet from crawling, and all of a sudden drops to the floor, crying out sobs. The Devil wants them because they are weak and defenseless in all attributes, and when he has a hand on them, taking them down; you see a look on their face, especially during the crying of a toddler that winces its whole face together, squinting to a point of blindness, and giving off heat on its light, pale red, tinted indigo blotted facial expression; there is something inside it possessing it to fall down. It's not the alcohol that is making walking uncoordinated for a drunk; it is the Devil. His actions are rejected fortunately by the Grim Reaper; the death bringer who says who is a victim and who is ready for a sinful action brought towards themselves. Those soon to be ready do not know that they will cross over an imaginary line created by the Grim Reaper's scythe, which marks the mental transportation to the origin pathway of the ferry boat designated for a drop off at the Gates of Hades.

As they walked down the alley they saw the Methodist Church. Just a street behind the church was where Jade lived with her parents. Being the only child in the family, Jade honored to have Thomas spend time with her, as it was a pleasurable might. She barely had many friends and truly needed one at the moment, and in the near future.

Walking through the church back parking lot, Thomas hears an eerie shout close by to the left of him. He looked at the direction of the noise and witnessed three African Americans coming out of a small shed that was overflowing with what looked like to Thomas was marijuana smoke. It was. There was a quarter of a busted through window on the shed that the smoke found for an escape route to the right of the shed door that also had mainstream smoke leaving from it when opened. One African American had a white wife beater on which had spit blobs at the collar of the shirt from wiping off saliva from inside his dry mouth, and black cargo pants stained with a bit of grass from playing backyard football an hour ago from now. Another one had a Detroit Lions Honolulu Blue jersey on, numbering player nineteen: quarterback Scott Mitchell, and sporting the team's cap front angled to the right side of his head. The khaki shorts that had cargo pockets were loose-fitted below the waist area, showing his white underwear with red heart-shapes on them, and he concluded his cocky attitude with the repetitive chewing of a just inserted piece of spearmint gum that he chomped up and down in his mouth like a mad cow. The last African American spotted by Thomas had his shirt off, showing his brown chiseled body off. He looked around two hundred and ten pounds, and a height of six three. Dirt was noticeably caked under the fingernails of his, as he pushed his sternum up and elbows down to crack his upper and lower back then stood in a straight postured upright stance, moving his neck left to right, cracking that too during the process. He had black baggy sweatpants that were hiding the charcoaled laces on his black sneakers. They stared engrossingly at Thomas and Jade as they made eardrum piercing wolf howls and gurgling dog barks, blustering at them in frantic manipulation of strenuously barbarous behavior. They came after Thomas and Jade in a jog pace with their teeth clenching a full deranged smile at them.

As they circled them around in the church parking lot, the African American with the shirt off stood back from the circling, flexing his muscles and frisking his erection inside his sweatpants. He stood there aroused sexually by Jade as he watched her hiding behind Thomas being terrorized. The African American in the white tank top took instantaneous cyclopean steps towards her, and leaned back away a few steps in a leaping acceleration. The one in the Detroit Lions jersey circled them, colliding his shoes together in a way that was recapitulated, in the direction he was going at during the circling, also taking a few jumps and steps at them, mocking them with shenanigan gestures. All of it could be defined from the result of the exaggerated animations of annoying laughter by the ridiculous eminently parody which failed miserably to appreciate cachinnate, jokingly.

It all started here; at this event that would alter everything in the life of Thomas Palmer. It happened too fast as he did not see it coming from out of the barriers to strike him with ultimate physical power of strength. This is where he encountered the lives of the twenty-one men that ruined his life and the love for Jade Wagner. It all happened here.

Thomas Palmer blinked his eyelids from being closed antecedently from unconsciousness. The force of the strike inflicted on him, caused it when the shirtless African American sprinted at him in a voluminous speed of privation. He punched Thomas on the left side of the face with his right hand that was clutched combatively in an apprehensive quiver. It concluded with a departure of the African American's elbow from being below the elevation of Thomas' right thigh, and snapping back, infiltrating into the top left corner of the eye glasses' convex lens' frame. The hyperopia disorder in Thomas's perspective caused him not to deflect the African American's right hand as he thought visually it was a blurred out underestimated image.

He watched in a paralyzed movement on the ground as the shirtless African American dropped his sweatpants from his waist, and pinned Jade to the church wall, to the left of the glass panel window that pictured Leonardo da Vinci's Last Supper. The African American in the jersey pulled Jade's pants down to the pavement and jammed his face into the anus, and sniffed. The one with the white shirt inserted his left hand into Jade's mouth in order for her to decease the screaming, while he shook his head in a monotonous energetic motion. His tongue was held out of his mouth, and it flopped from cheek to cheek, spitting at Jade.

As the African American with the pants down to his feet took his left hand, and caressed his six and a few centimeters penis, he leaned his head towards the right side of Jade, and whispered to her if she was ready. She cried.

Once the activity began; each of the African Americans joined in the process of introducing their preferred fetishes overcoming with a woman. A woman who was only fourteen and was experiencing a rare session that she assumed to be extraordinary when at the point of the conclusion, and when came the ejaculations inside her vagina.

They did it one by one; all three of them, as Thomas sat on the ground agitated and bewildered. They hollered at him during the orgy, saying: "we will fuck her better than you any day, pussy!", came from the one with the jersey, as he slapped Jade's right buttock, engendering a mark of red. The one with the white tank top had all of his fingers in Jade's mouth like a fishhook when he analized her, while biting and slobbering at his shirt.

Jade watched as she saw the shadow of the Grim Reaper on the church wall coming down to her left shoulder to damn her to Hell. Thomas saw it too, and it condemned him into flames, as he took the accusation for her life actions. Jesus also saw it too. He saw it from inside the church sanctuary on the cross he was stationed on. He could not do anything as the evilness was occurring outside of the church, and his limited angelic powers could not tempt to attempt to interfer with the demoniacal spirit, which overcame with Thomas and Jade.

The act of the depravity of the twenty-one lives inside the church could have lended a hand, and possibly deceased the situation, but they sat there, and remained to their titles of sinning throughout Christianity. They think they are august saints with nothing to lose, but their love for God when they read verses about him in the Holy Bible, and go out unfortunately to commit sinister acts that their Lord told them was profound upon of in life. It will be okay for those saints though, because they can vanish their sins by going to Sunday church or by doing a nightly prayer, asking for their forgiveness, which is highly ludicrous. The sad thing is… they know it is wrong doing what they do. Abunch of resembling fucking hypocrites like a man on a stage, behind a podium, preaching a religion to a large group of small children in an auditorium, that are just learning how to take in knowledge in their life.

Those twenty-one lives in the church would not know shit if their own came down on them. They are no different from a politician trying to presuade injustice morals to a group of youth, spreading their lies of these so called "promises", so they can watch the generation become corruptible just like themselves. We are the sons, and we are following in our father's footsteps. We learn from them, and they wonder why society is not the utopia it is supposed to be. They are nothing, but criminals. Criminals that will remain to their same title throughout life.

His coffin was closed during the showing of his death. The twenty-one lives were standing above him once again, just like always in his life, and they starred at his coffin, reminiscing in their minds about how they could of saved him; how they did not want to. They all drank from the tap water presented to them at the showing, and finished it with the same title received to the man in the close coffin.

Thomas Palmer was that man in the closed coffin. He had his last supper with the people he loved, but his true family was the person that used to sit in the empty chair in front of him. She was the person that supported him after the sighting of the twenty-one lives, and they helped each other decease the memories of the evening by ignoring their financial issues, and by destroying the upcoming life inside of her. They had no money for the operation though. Thomas had to deliver it, and he did so in the small shed where the evil lurked out to give the offspring the sighting of Hell. Thomas ended it by sacrificing their unwanted related offspring in the church sanctuary where the twenty-one lives decluded aid. The child's blood baptized itself, and was given a personal name to the angels in Heavan, before even getting accepted in the real Christian ceremony of the church. The offspring died by the knife, and its life was ended in a heavenly location.

The Winchester Model 1897 12 gauge pump-action shotgun slug exploded through his chin where the thirty-inch length barrel was aimed at. The slug ripped through his jawbone, entering around the roof of his mouth, and finally leaving from his frontal part of the skull, causing a chain reaction of pellets separating out of the slug, blasting through every vulnerable part inside his head. All four lobes of his brain were mushed to liquid scatterings like if it was placed in a blender, and then poured simply around his dead body, and a little on his children. Their medium prepared steaks were pinker than usual, and the outside of the steak was marinated once again, but with their own

For a man that commited suicide through a shotgun attempt is one thing, but the twenty-one lives that ruined his, are laying down shoulder to shoulder to each other without a heartbeat. His true family stood there by his casket, staring down at it opended. She stood there beside him now; not in his troublesome past years, but now with a picture of their children Derrick and Jen in her right hand, and an almost empty vial of posion in her left. She looked at the picture, then behind her; the twenty-one lives that caused all of this were finally gone from their lives. It was like an honorable mention for Thomas Palmer, as an imaginary 21-gun salute, shot and killed the twenty-one lives.

The one and only, Jade Wagner - the girl who got raped at the age of 14 -, and left her family for an unknown reason, was back. She stood there, looking down at her true love, Thomas Palmer - the boy who she called her only friend -, and smiled. Now it was the time to end it all. She dropped the picture of their children, drank the rest of the vial, and climbed into the casket of her true love, and closed it.

In the back of the picture, there was a short message., " I had to pull the trigger on Thomas. There was nothing else I could do to get to see him and be reunited again. I wish it could have been simpiler than this, but this was the only way for us to be together forever. Derrick and Jen, I am sorry it had to end like this, but I promise I will see you both once again. I will meet you two up here. My heart goes out to the both of you, and I hope you seek forgiveness once we meet again. I love you all!"

Love, mom

Source: http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/21_Lives

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DjGerray Jan 30, 2019

This is super racist!

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