Original Writing — Excerpt #2: Revolutionary Ghost
I have friends who like to post writing prompts, and I occasionally humor them with my take on a scene.
Prompt: You are a blacksmith during the American Revolution. You were murdered by a man that was told to do so by a psychic.
Garrett stared down at his corpse where it lay in the corner. His long time friend stood over the body, gasping for air. His hands and the knife he held in them were covered in Garrett’s blood, which was quickly ending up in hair where he clutched it.
“John, what the HELL?” Garrett shouted soundlessly.
John continued to gasp and stare at the corpse in the corner. “What have I done? Why did I believe this would make a difference?! Why did I trust that psychic?”
Garrett’s gaze whipped to his friend. “A fucking fortune teller told you to murder me? Jesus Christ.”
John didn’t react. Obviously. Garrett was dead.
John cleaned off the knife and slipped it back into his boot. He grabbed Garrett’s body under its arms and dragged it out back of the smithy to the kiln.
“Not the kiln! Don’t ruin my kiln by burning my body in it! Come on…” Garrett cried, following. He had the sensation of walking over freshly fallen snow, as if he couldn’t quite reach the floor.
“I’m sorry, Garrett, but it was necessary. We couldn’t just let you go on making bullets for the rebels. This is for England.” John grunted as he tipped the body into the glowing embers. Garrett dropped his head in his hands as John closed the front of the kiln and started up the bellows. He knew he shouldn’t have made the kiln so large. It had been harder to heat, but he’d been able to fit bigger pieces of metal in it this way and work faster. And now it was going to cremate him.
Once the body was well and truly gone, and John has cleaned the smithy of all traces of blood, he left. Garrett decided to follow him rather than wait around to see who found him missing from work. No one would ever know what had happened. They would think he’d just walked off, leaving his livelihood and his family for some unknown dream. They’d never believe the truth, even if John confessed. But maybe, just maybe, Garrett could find a new way to help the revolution from the other side.