Read Online The Death Agreement by Kristopher Mallory - Free Book Online

Horrifying as it is, there's comfort in the certainty of
death. It presents us with a clearly defined border—no matter what
happens, death is the limit. If we weren't aware of that limit,
terror would be infinite. Terror would be all we could
know.
    I found the courage to climb
through the hole in the wall and continue on. I walked through the
winding passageway, treading lightly. Thirty-three paces later, the
walls opened up into the room that shouldn't exist.
    Corner by corner, I scanned the
room, expecting to see Taylor standing somewhere in the darkness,
holding the saw, waiting to strike. But the room was just as empty
as before, and my fear subsided.
    I aimed the light at the ceiling.
The hook was still there, and so was the string. I moved the light
down the string to where the saw hung. Only, the saw was gone. In
its place, hung an envelope. Scrawled on the front: FOR JON
RANDON.
    I had to jump to grab the
envelope, and in the process of landing, my prosthetic hit the
ground at the wrong angle and I fell backward, cracking my head on
the hard ground. I reached back and felt the sticky wetness of
blood. When I tried to stand up, I felt dizzy. It would be a few
minutes before I could walk. I knew it was a bad idea, but I opened
the envelope, knowing what would be inside.
    Taylor's Death Agreement had been
folded neatly into thirds. I slid it out of the envelope as
cautiously as an EOD tech would dismantle a bomb.
    Slowly, I flattened it out on my
lap and began to read. Most appeared unchanged. Taylor's final
entry in the history section talked about the prospect of a future
promotion to Lieutenant Colonel and how he and Lorie were
discussing having a baby. They had hoped for a girl and wanted to
name her Leena.
    I flipped through the pages and
found an area that had a whole section scratched out. I recognized
it as the passage that Taylor had meant to be his final
words.
    He had wrecked it thoroughly, as
if angry, ripping the paper in places. The main points could still
be seen through the deep pen scratches. To sum it up: He loved his
family; he loved his friends; he wanted his children to know him
after he was gone.
    Below the carnage of the destroyed
words, he had written something new, something
chilling….
    ***
    Final words:
    They will say a lot of bad things
about me, so let me address that first: It is all true. That was
easy, was it not? But if you are reading, you are probably
wondering how I got here. That is what you want to know, is it not?
    It started with this feeling of
dread. Something was very, very, very wrong. I could not figure out
what and that made it worse. The dread dug under my skin. Then the
voice came. It began as a whispering in the back of my mind. It
kept me awake at night.
    The voice said it could help me. I
tried to ignore it. I really did. But it grew louder . . . and
louder . . . AND LOUDER.
    Eventually the voice overpowered
my own. I had no choice but to listen. It spoke about the shadows
and the secrets, about the good time. It named all of the evils
which hide beyond our vision, all thirty million. It shared
revelations of twisted worlds. It laughed as my feeble mind tried
to hold it all in.
    The voice never stopped, and as it
spoke, the cadence sped faster . . . and faster . . . AND
FASTER.
    The voice sounded like someone had
spun a record with their hand until the centrifugal force ripped it
to shreds. I could no longer hear the words but I still understood
and nodded along in agreement.
    The voice said I knew a place tied
to dark history. It said a presence in the black hole of time had
been roused for another chance to exist again. It named the evil,
though I cannot pronounce it in writing. It commanded me to serve.
It told me what I must do.
    I plugged an old radio into an
extension cord. ' When Johnny Comes
Marching Home, ' an old Civil War song,
blared from the speakers.
    I sang along.
    Get ready for the
Jubilee,
    Hurrah! Hurrah!
    We'll give the hero three