Chereads / Worlds End : Soul Stream / Chapter 1 - Chapter 1

Worlds End : Soul Stream

🇳🇬Generic_2300
  • --
    chs / week
  • --
    NOT RATINGS
  • 10.2k
    Views
Synopsis

Chapter 1 - Chapter 1

It was a dark room, mainly because the blinds where down, but dark nonetheless.

It was the bedroom of a dark skinned middle aged man... I think he was 30? No 35... Anyway, the room was mostly empty. The man was still fast asleep. He looked well built, about 6ft plus, had short black curly hair, and was quite good looking. The room contained few things. It obviously had a bed, a small table with a lamp, a picture frame, and an alarm clock that read 6:59 AM. But that was it.

BEEP BEEP.

The alarm clock rang out as it was now 7 AM. One would expect the guy to wake up, but he didn't. So the BEEPs rang out for another 30 minutes... till the alarm clock just stopped. Guess he wasn't one to care for alarms. Anyway, some more time passed and the alarm clock now read 8 AM, but he still wasn't up. Fast forward a little, or a lot, as it was now 10AM. But finally, the dark skinned middle aged man's body moved, he was awake!

He got up slowly as some sort of morning moaning left his mouth...soon cracking sounds could be heard as he did some light stretching and got out of the bed. He was in shorts and was ,as previously said, well built. He walked towards the nearest window and pulled up the blinds. It was already mid day so he was instantly hit by sunlight. "Hmm, another day" he said as a frown adorned his face. He did not seem too happy. Walking a way from the window he looked towards his bed table and saw the picture laying there. Come to think of it though, calling it a picture would be inaccurate. It was an extremely beautiful painting. The painting was of two guys, one of the guys shared a striking resemblance to him, in fact it could be said that it was indeed him. Just without the beard he currently sported. It was a black short well kept beard by the way. The other guy was Caucasian. He had red hair, a red beard, and was quite bulky. The two men were both in some sort of majestic bar and were laughing with cups of -what i would assume to be- beer. They were both in regal amour, the red head was holding a hammer with a short shaft as a weapon while the middle aged man held no weapon.

Taking his eyes away from the picture, his frown seemed to have left his face as he now sported a light smile.

He turned away from the table and started walking towards a door. I don't think it's the exit so it's probably the bathroom. Anyway, this is the second time I'm seeing this so i should probably mention it. On his back was... a tattoo? Or was it a birth mark? I honestly don't know. What ever it was, it was big... and beautiful. It felt both Holy, and not. I feel like it couldn't be a birth mark, yet it was too perfect to be a tattoo. It was a depiction of a man in agony... the man had hollow empty eyes, or should i say eyes sockets? as all we could see in place of it was darkness. The entire lower body of the man was being dragged towards the dark ground by black hands and the entire upper body was being dragged away from the ground by silver, almost angelic, hands. It seemed like the pull from both sides was almost tearing the man in half...at least that was what the agonizing look on his face said. What i just described was definitely not a tattoo...it was probably part of his skin. Anyway, lets stop thinking about that as the man just entered the bathroom. So now, we wait... what? you thought i would follow him in there and describe how he showers? These readers, `narrator face palms`.

***

About 15 minutes later, the man came out. It seems that room contained his wardrobe cause he was fully dressed as well. He wore a black Nike sports trousers and a white round neck T-shirt. He clearly wasn't going anywhere ,like work, cause what he wore was far too casual. He walked towards the second door in the room, one i would assume to be the exit, and opened it. He was greeted by a some what wide, clean, white-coated hallway. Walking out of his room, he moved into the hallway and walked straight down, took a left turn and walked into the kitchen. Seems like he didn't live in a duplex. The kitchen was simple , of typical size and looked extremely neat. Oh and the house was pretty quiet, so he likely lived alone. In the kitchen, the man seemed to pause with a pensive expression as he leaned on the white kitchen counters. After like 30 seconds, he dropped the pensive expression and picked up a loaf of bread. Then, the "magic" started. Turns out this middle aged man was at least a 4 star chef because even i felt like eating bread now. He made some sandwich but it felt more. Anyway, I'm not a food critique or anything so I'm not gonna describe it. After finishing his meal, he stood up, did the dishes, and left the kitchen. He walked into where should be the living room, but I'm not too sure as it was filled with paintings. Maybe it was his art gallery or maybe the dark skinned man was an artist, i guess we'll find out. Anyway, the gallery carried a regal air. All sorts of paintings filled the room. But one thing that was common for most was his presence in them. Oh, some of the depictions were actually modern photographs; some were in black and white and some were not.

Moving a little, the man stopped in front of one of the black and white photographs and looked at it. In the photograph, it was possible to see him as well as a bunch of other men. They were all in military gear and a WW2 style plane was behind them. But, WW2? Walking away from the photograph that was placed on a stand, the man walked towards another photograph without explaining anything to the readers. This photograph was similar, yet different. This photograph was also black and white and he was in it . Beside him was a man everyone should know. It was Albert Einstein in his later years. It looked like they were both conversing and particularly like Einstein was teaching him...but Einstein? The man let out a little chuckle as he walked towards another frame. This time, it was a colored painting. The painting was a depiction of a man that looked quite similar to the middle aged man, just about 10+ years younger and with a different hair color. Maybe it was a relative? What was odd about the painting though was the fact the the man was laying in a pool of his own blood with a cracked skull and a very lost expression. The middle aged man looked at the painting as his eyes became hollow, a scene flashed by his eyes as memories flooded him... Now the scenery had changed. It looked like a fast play back of events; it started from two young men wearing near rags -the clothes were even worse than that - giving sacrifices. One offered a lamb and was accepted while the other offered some dry crops and was rejected. Anger and jealousy welled up in the rejected man's heart. The man who was rejected was the middle aged man and the guy who was accepted was the guy in the painting. Here the middle aged man looked 10+ years younger as well . Anyway, the jealousy was thick as the man ended up ambushing the other man and killing him. The events continued to play back as the man walked away. After some more play back, the man was stopped and a voice majestic beyond words asked "WHERE IS THOU BROTHER?" and the man responded "How are thou supposed to know? Am i thy brother's keeper?" . The majestic voice responded by saying ,"WHAT HAS THOU DONE? THE BLOOD OF THY BROTHER CRIES UNTO ME FROM THE EARTH". With that, the scene changed and he was back in the gallery. The flash-back had ended. The man's eyes regained their luster as he looked away from the painting. At the bottom frame of the painting however, it was possible to see some words. It was probably the name of the painting as it read "Fratricide". That was Latin derived , it was the act of killing one's own brother.

Picking up his pace, the man walked towards another stand and picked up something. It looked like a wallet. It was made of black leather and looked quite refined. He opened up the wallet and one could see a few things, but what caught the eye was an ID card. The ID card had a picture of his face and beside it were some other things. What was worth mentioning though was his name . It read - Cain Adamson.

Ah, so he was called Cain? Closing the wallet, the middle aged man , no Cain walked towards a door that probably led out. Seems he wanted to leave the house.

Chapter 1 --- Cain, Adam's son.