Human harvester

Chapter 15- Collapsing ambition

Syke didn't have a good night sleep. Assisted in murdering 10 people, Dad goes to hospital, Tyson released his true, dancing Devil, killed his sister-in-law, Tyson left. And it felt great! It was all over. Nearly. Well, until 31st.

Syke pranced about his home on that Saturday. All that in one night! Got it all out of the way. No remorse, no time. He danced around the home and the garden and around the street, when all of a sudden, he saw the couple neighbours. They were packing their bags into a car. Holiday? But that was a lot of luggage for a holiday. He examined their faces. Sad? What is going on? He spun around and saw more people as sombre as the last petal falling from a flower, dead feeling. The neighbour looked at him, eyes glistening and pricking with an icy, melancholy feel. "You packed, Syke?"

 "Packed?" Syke turned on the radio. 

"Breaking news- an area of Corby is being evacuated for its shockingly high increase of murders. 100 dead in a couple of months."

 Syke spat. "Huh, think those wanking dictators can remove me from my land? I shall not. I am Syke. I am Syke O Coldstone! This is my property and my legacy and it shall stay that way!" 

The police set down barriers around the evacuated area. Wow- it was quite big, covering a 1/4 of Corby. No one can approach it. The police examined it. Oh how dumb they were- no one there- really? Syke crouched down in some rubble and glass from a building that was knocked down recently. 

"Staying, huh?" 

Goosebumps swirled into a shape of DNA down his throat.

 "Oh it's you!" Syke grinned. 

It was the drug dealer. "Hey dude. I'm staying! Supporting you, 100% of the way!"

 "Thank you my great friend." 

"Where's Tyson?" 

"He left. For a new life." 

"Oh. I will miss my best customer." 

"Yeah- I will miss him too."

 "Just I want to know- what is going on?" 

"Basically I've stricken 100 victims into either hell or heaven; only the God and Devil can decide their cards, in a cheeky game of poker."

 "Why though?" 

"Desire and ambition. The 2 greatest sins!" 

"Ok?" 

"There's a phantom of power who shall be summoned for the exchange of the carved corpses. The desire to fix the past, fix the future, fix the present. Basically, my granted wishes shall bring joy to the world."

 "What if this phantom isn't real?"

 "What?"

 "It could all be a hoax and you have been doing these sinister acts for nothing?" 

"Oh don't be such a conspiracist who doesn't know two horses what he's talking about!" 

"I'm not, but fate may turn on you, backstab with blood."

The days past, Syke's ego and hope boosted at its optimum. The day fell. The day where fate shall be considered luck or a hoax. Syke put candles in each and every of his and Tyson's victims. He had newspaper in hand, saying this phantom strikes 9. The holy clock of Corby was 5 to. 4 to. 3 to. 2 to. 1 minute to. It struck. Everything was perfect; things couldn't go wrong. However, phantom was nowhere to be seen. Syke was grasping his teeth. The drug dealer was right.