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The Death Toast An Alliteration
Night descended as it always did on Dexter, retiring people to their beds after the labour of the day and down in Boorbunk what signified the coming of the night was the utter darkness that they were hit with as the inmates lay now on their creaky metal beds that was not entirely their size. Snores could be heard everywhere but even if everyone was going to sleep not Pierson, not Tristan, not Dale.Pierson was sitting on his bed with a locket in his hand, attached to a chain. He had that locket in his possession since…a long time ago. He didn’t know how long he had worn that necklace as a bracelet on his wrist. It was since his life had started, since light had come to it, about fifteen years ago. He opened the locket and brought out the pictures it contained. Through the dark, he managed to see the faces of the people on it. There was Michael’s face on the first picture, Barry was next and then the rest of them had followed, in the order in which they had met.All through his life, h
The Death Toast A New Dale
The next morning set them up to another horrible day ahead, horrible by default. The men called all of them out and counted them, looking pleased and satisfied with the grave looks on the faces of the prisoners. The daily count put them at eighty-four, thanks to the elimination. The new internees seemed to be getting on well.‘Tristan Klyce?’, one of the wardens called with a diffident face. ‘Follow me’Tristan sighed, ready to cope with another morose face of Samantha and have to repeat the words he had said the last time in a more explicit way.He reached the calling room and there were other prisoners in there, resting their head against the soundproof walls listening to the wobbly, comely voices of their loved ones through the telephones. He was led to Samantha in the last booth line where she always was. Only that this time, he wasn’t going to cope with only the face of Samantha, there was another face, another severely cute face, a smaller face.‘Oh My God!’, Tristan’s mouth ope
The Death Toast Fight, Dale!
They were all out now among the multitudes of guards who were not with rods or with blackjacks but with real guns because today someone among them who had his wrists bound in those chains was going to get battered to nihility with its contents. Dale stood there staring at the governor and then the revulsion he had felt returned to his stomach in a sickening way, wrapping around his gut and he suddenly knew that he was going to spill it out from his mouth, in his words!All the men had taken position with their rifles and the officers had gathered themselves around, waiting patiently for the governor to perform his blind vote.‘Before anything is done, I will like to have a word with these things’, he said as he waved his hand over all the prisoners and then he stood up from his sofa which surely had the skull of Pierson Plummer hanging there rigidly and then walked to the edge of the podium, where Carreras had dived to him on his death day. ‘Killing, savagery, evil, mischief’, he star
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
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