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The Death Toast Michael Bergmann's Old Man
The sound from the TV shrieked in the ears of the old man, the smoke from the fireplace which he was sitting along stinging his eyes, trying as much as possible to focus on the special weekly report that the Gollogher Press was about to give. He hoped that… really, what he hoped for wasn’t important, the fact that he hoped was ridiculous, in it of itself. In anyways, he really believed that the new special weekly report was going to be better than the one of the previous weeks but the first words proved him wrong.‘Dexter Islands IS ON FIRE!’, Reporter Shelley started and his face displayed the exact terror of those first words. ‘And the terrorists who have been speculated by a Dexter Call journalist to have a new name of The Blazing Empire are having an unbroken run throughout the nation’‘On Sunday, the twenty-second of April, the nation recorded a death toll of hundred thousand people which was the highest mortality rate that Dexter have witnessed in its history but as the week got
The Death Toast It is what it is
Dale returned from The Hole after three weeks of unending torture and acute hunger. He was released in the evening when the second round of work was almost over and before the dinner’s whistle was heard. Dale managed to totter around with his legs that were stiff and moving of their own will until he reached the laundry room that he was supposed to work in. He remained at the entrance to the room not able to drag along any further. Barry and Tristan were not in the room, they were doing mending jobs in the other room and Peter was the first person who sighted him.‘Dale’, he called and dropped the clothes he was folding to help Dale. Every other person stopped too and one other person joined Peter to help him in. His face was swollen and it was sore. It was expected. Someone who said and did the things he had done was expected to get a death penalty but Dale dropped their guns with gait, he had survived death but the officers were bent on making sure that The Hole was as an unbearable
The Death Toast A Deceased Dale
The doors of the cellhouse shrieked open, it was rare to have the wardens come in at such an hour. The lights were out and the sound of boots ensued through the silence. More bizarrely, it was just one man with a little torch with a tiny ray of light that did little justice to the overpowering darkness. It was only a few minutes after they were in the relaxing room and rarely any of them had slept off. They all watched breathlessly straining their eyes to see what the man was up to. The warden walked slowly, taking one step and then stopping in front of each ward. He looked into each of the cells flashing his light at the person occupying them.They reached the cell number forty-six and flashed its light at Barry. As he pointed it at him, Barry was able to give one glimpse at the warden. He had a balaclava over his face and although he didn’t have any clubs, he didn’t look harmless at all. He wasn’t like the usual prison guard, he was one of the men who lined the walls during The Deat
The Death Toast It's time to go
The two occasions that made Boorbunk different from every other prison were The Death Toast and The Redemption. And with thirteen of such ceremonies witnessed, The Redemption was the most likely for Dale and his friends to get adapted to, the fuss and hope was gone since it was only one person that was going to finally get lucky, after all.They all stood in line for the sixteenth edition of The Redemption. Dale was standing beside two huge men with so much hair on their faces, head and all over the other parts of their body that their tight prison uniforms could not cover; each prisoner was given the same medium-sized uniform, good for slim prisoners and unlucky for larger-sized inmates. With all the hair on their bodies, Dale predicted that they had been in Boorbunk for ages. Their most useful years wasted here and probably, just in the next Death Toast edition of their wards, their lives might be qualified with that word too.Each man had taken their place and then, Officer Eel cli
The Death Toast Freedom, indeed
Turning and turning finally surmised into giving up and finding a place on the side of the road to just rest for a while and that had led to a long slumber. Dale remained on the sidewalk, with his head placed in the middle of his laps and his eyes shut for hours despite the loud zooming of cars past him every passing minute. It was until the sun had gone down and dusk had arrived completely that he had raised his head up again, in total surprise that he had actually been sleeping on the road. The road was still busy but the night’s darkness was prominent everywhere. He had the assurance in his mind that he was going to stay shelterless for the night-time and possibly for the first few days before he got his bearing and could get his foot in this new place.Dale stood up and gave a loud yawn. No matter what the case was, no situation could beat staying in a little room, ordered around by whistles. Even though it meant sleeping on the street or wandering throughout the night or staying
The Death Toast The Ritual of Caprice: Keep or Kill
The emperor of The Blazing Empire, the governor of the Order of the Quppis; General Owen Sawer in all his actions thrived to make something crystal clear to all the citizens of Dexter: that there was no soft side to the present situation and that no one was spared and that the fact that they were Dexterrans was a huge grievance that they were going to pay for brutally and painfully. He reminded himself every day of what he should be: a pernicious, ferocious beast who was completely devoid of emotions and whose place in the ecosystem was to tear people apart. Every day, he got closer to becoming that person and farther from the person he used to be: a soldier, still fierce and deadly but willing to sacrifice himself for his nation. And he was on the brink of doing that in the Pelican war.He had two bullets in his chest but he kept shooting because he knew that if he stopped, Dexter would officially be defeated and handed over to their neighbours, the Norton Islands (The Pelicans). Onl
The Death Toast The queen termite would bite, feeding day or not
A single hall room could no longer conveniently contain all of them because they were no longer one thousand people. The room was filled with ten thousand people in orange uniforms, choked up together. The prison was Boorbunk and it had been one month since Dale left.Each of the fifteen wards now had about four times the number of inmates they used to have. Since the terrorism attacks had increased, it only made sense that more arrests had been made and more people had been locked up.Definitely, brutality had increased. The wardens wouldn’t fail to make them feel the heat of what was cooking outside the prison and to reassure them that real fire hadn’t started burning yet. In the Death Toast rooms, there were three skulls hanging on the walls waiting to be replaced weekly. Weekly! The wardens were no longer patient with people like Dale who spoke back at them or refused to do their bidding. They no longer moved around with clubs or batons and no longer repeated orders, they moved ar
The Death Toast What Yates' letter read
'Del, set the lines straight’, Astor yelled from the other side of the rail. Dale had spent little to no time in understanding how to be a railway construction worker as specialised as that sounds, or at least be useful with some of the work that required less skill. Just as he had spent little time getting his feet back on ground and learning to survive again in the new town of Santa Fe, New Mexico. He had dumped the gloomy extradition clothes into a refuse bin and the only clothes he had were the two dirty, always-unwashed work clothes. He lived in a tavern; a tiny room that was only a bit larger than the prison he had once stayed, it had a stacked bed that he shared with one of the workmen, his two work clothes hanging from the wall facing the bed and his only footwear - brown muddy work boots – laying beneath the bed. There was little or no space to walk around in the room. For Dale, ahead of the claustrophobic restraints of the room, there was the bigger problem of nostalgia that
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