Bane’s father did not abuse
him physically but through verbal torment and treated the boy like a slave, a
servant. The young boy was at his father’s every beckoning, to do what ever he
willed, whatever the task may have been.
Bane’s father owned a
small animal protein facility on the outskirts of a moderate size township
which housed a bustling supply and freight dock. Although his father at the
time could afford extra help he horded every credit the venture made and
disposed of the profits through his gambling and elixir abuse. Continually Bane
felt the burden of his father’s faults. Bane taught himself to rely on no
others- only through one’s self shall one overcome- he assured himself
continually.
Bane never knew his mother nor even her name. Master kept no
artifacts of her, no signs she even existed. Bane saw nothing of her. Master
did not speak of her unless it was to degrade and abuse the boy. Young ears
would hear his words and see the hate in his fathers eye’s as he spoke words of
fury “You look just like your mother” the hammer hit once again “And you act
just like her, she did this to me, I hate her damn soul. What are you good for-
Nothing! You are good for- Nothing! Do you not hear what I say? Do you not
understand what you see, what I teach you? If you can not do all that I ask in
a day, I might as well attach your hands to the transport thrusters and burn
them off. The work load must be completed daily or I lose credits.” “But father
I am only 9 years old” “Open your lip one more time and I will sever it! Do you
hear me? Look boy! Look into my eyes. You see I speak the truth. Complete the
load. I want it done precisely, perfectly every single time. There is no room
for error. My patience grows thin. Complete it or I will rid myself of you.”
Bane’s savor of ultimate privacy of one’s self kept his past a
mystery to all others. Later in life whenever questioned, Bane at all times
referred to his father as master, although to Bane he was a master of abuse and
nothing more. Within his young mind Bane was able to harness his fear, his
anger, and his hate. He was able to encapsulate it within him. He found he
could tap into at will. He savored it. It drove him. It willed him to become
precise, to strive for perfection in all things, of the mind and of the
physical- in all that one does.
His quest for perfection had begun. A boy of nine would not fail. He
would do what was asked of him. He would submit. He would obey. It would
consume him. The boy would show the Master. The boy will do what ever need be
done. He would improvise, he would adapt, and he would overcome. I will learn.
I will watch. I will listen. I will not be seen. I will not be heard. I shall
transform my mind. I shall transform my body. I shall discover all. The boy
slit the beast’s throat with a razor rod. The blood shot out as though it was
fired from a blaster canon. It saturated Bane’s face and upper torso. Wiping
the blood from his brow he savored its salty wildly taste. “Yes, revenge. I
shall savor it.”
Another birthday came and went. Not one gift. Not one occasion. Not
one acknowledgement. Not even thanks for all of his hard work. Nothing,
absolutely nothing as it always had been. Master only provided necessary items
like clothing and a good pair of boots.
He had not failed. He still had his hands and lips. The boy was
running, dodging obstacles in his path with little effort as he continued to
gaze at the starry sky. “It must be endless” he spoke within his mind. As long
as he completed his work load, master on occasion would allow him time to do
what he pleased. It was the boy’s tenth birthday. Master had gone to the
township. He would not show his face until the next morning. The boy had the
whole night to himself. And the darkness of the night suited him best. He
roamed with free will over the country side. He trained himself in the way of
the woods, the ways of survival. He let the environment consume him and through
it he learned patience. To grow it takes time. To mature it takes time. Develop
I must. Train I must. I must be precise. I must be perfect. If not, there is no
point to live. And those who do not strive for it, I shall crush them. I must
be pure. I must be true. I must be I.
The dead snag of an old tree trunk could not take the load of the
boy’s added weight. It gave way and the boy hit the ground smashing his chin on
a sharp rock. It cuts a one inch gash into his chin. Blood begins to flow. It
puddles up in a small pool the size of his palm before him. His essence begins
to sparkle as if microscopic particles could be seen darting about perpetuity.
The boy glares intently upon it. “It is mesmerizing” he speaks within.
Time begins to regress. One year, two years, torrent tears. It
begins to speed. Flashes of light, glassy eyes, he is mesmerized. She screams, she
cries, he strikes, and she dies. She is glowing, she is pure, and she is true.
She is
A sudden flash of pulsing light lit up the surrounding forest. The
boy flew back and came crashing down rolling into a small depression snapping
small branches beneath him. The boy hears a familiar pop under his left hand as
he tries to upright himself. From within his mind “It sounds of bone.” He gives
himself a few moments to recover then his interest grabs hold of him.
He begins to pull the overburden and still growing foliage out of
the way. The old bone was armor grey in color and it was slender. He continued
to dig. The skull had a large crack in it as he pulled it from the moist
ground. He removed the debris from it and turned the skull’s facial features
towards him. A voice that had not spoken in a year finally spoke, “Mother.”
It begins slowly. It continues to grow. Bane’s blood begins to boil.
Fear, anger, and hate begin to transform. The power he feels within is
tremendous. Emotions begin to erupt. Tears begin to form. Tears begin to roll.
The skull between his hands explodes into nonexistence from the pressure of his
rage. The boy inhales a great breath and the trees are all bending, because of
something, obeying his command.
“Master”, the cry is deafening. The scream is powerful. The forest
that surrounds him is blasted to bare ground, fully exposing his mother’s grave
site. Trees that were standing near him are now toppled, shattered at their
trunks.
Bane falls to the ground sobbing. He drives his hand into the damp
soil and squeezes it through his fingers. Unwittingly he begins to suffocate
the life forms near him as he draws power from their essence. He drives his
other hand into the soil with his fingers outstretched and claws at the ground.
Unearthing a small object, Bane slowly rises to his knees. He begins to slowly
calm himself as he removes the filth encasing the intriguing object.
It is a small necklace charm with intersecting rings that circle and
bind. He rubs it between his left thumb and index finger removing the last bit
of filth. Bane closes his swollen and irritated eyes. Tears track down his
cheeks cleansing small pathways as they travel. A great burst of light flashes
before his closed lids. The light begins to distort and warp. Faint forms begin
to fall into focus. The visions are brief and subtle distortions. He begins to
concentrate. Within his mind the boy reaches for one of the passing visions and
is able to capture it. Luring the small orb of light toward him, it expands and
becomes clearer as it nears him.
“Master is there. He has lost something. He is looking for me. I
must go.”
Bane pops up from the ground and begins to run, with the frantic
notion of becoming his master’s next victim he ran from the area not realizing
the destruction that he had caused, nor the darkness he had touched. Running
harder than he ever had the boy consumed the ground beneath him with each
dominating stride. He looked down at the small charm he held. The charm his
mother must have cherished. An artifact that proved her sheer existence, he
thought of the ‘one’ he would take vengeance upon. The boy cherished the
thought.
Retuning home the boy could not sense his master’s presence. Looking
up at the time piece kept in the main living quarters it was well past the
midnight hour as he made his way to his room. It was well past the time his
master normally arrived from an outing of elixir and gambling abuse. Bane came
to his room and sat on the edge of the cot. Motionless for more than an hour he
sat with his head held low not even blinking an eye.
After clearing his mind the boy began to ponder the events he had
experience just hours before. His eyes become heavy. “I will contain my
knowledge,” soft words spoke within his mind. “It will be kept safe; I will
keep it from master. He will not discover it. It is mine.” Bane rested his head
on the master’s cot. “Silent I will be. Secrecy I will contain. With stealth as
my ally, I will bide my time. Master will fall by my hand and by my choosing.”
Exhausted the boy rapidly fell sound asleep.
Excerpt from
Resurrection
Rick J. Johnson
Copyright © 2005
All Rights Reserved