The First to Arrive and the Last to Leave

It had been several years since I had decided to visit and it was supposed to be only a simple one, two-day visit at the least. There were many places I would visit only once, and these two places were at the top of my list of things never to repeat.

Those two places were a church and a funeral. They were two of the least favorites and they always had a dim view of what were the reason(s) behind my not wanting to be in or at either.

Funerals were the saddest kind of place to be, especially depending on who the funeral was for, and how they had passed on, since most deaths are sudden and without any explanation as to why they died.

Church was a close second, since most people refused to be in attendance of such places, either the bad reputation that preceded them, or other factors involved or associated with the idea behind or about church. I was never religious myself, nor did come from a serious religious following, more like drinkers and addicts, whores and other such.

I was there, at the St Luscious Holiness Church, outside of the Boulevard, in California. There was Father David Dusik who was presently involved with a funeral and was busy now. The other Father Patrick Mallery was the only one who was more than willing to help. I asked if I could wait Dusik's office, even though Mallery hesitated, proceeded to take me to the dimly lit office, and pointed to a chair to sit. Mallery closed the door behind me and then sat down behind the desk.

Before I could ask, Mallery stated that he was the one who had contacted me about some illegal matters that he believed were happening there. He then mentioned it was Dusik, he felt was behind all the events taking place and wanted my help to get them resolved quickly and quietly.

Then a shot rang out and Dusik appeared from the shadows, smoking gun in hand, a grin on his lips. Mallery was slumped over the desk, blood pouring from the open wound made by the bullet. Dusik and I then both grinned but it was short lived, as a second bullet was fired from a well-hidden gun I had under the desk.

As Dusik winced from the pain he was experiencing in his groin, I rose up and headed over to Dusik, firing off several more rounds into the body while he slouched over and became silent. I kicked away his gun but stopped. I was wanting to make this look a murder suicide and wanted the police officers to believe it was as simple as that.

I was wiping down for fingerprints, exiting out the same way I had entered, then when I entered the sanctuary, I was stopped a man dressed in black, one of the pall bearers. He and I exchanged glances, noticing in surprise that we were both not aware of the other being there and then pulling out our guns simultaneously, fired at each other.

I was struck in the right arm; he was struck in the chest and bleeding. He tried to raise his gun to fire again but slumped over.

I rose up, heading towards the area where the funeral was being held. The sirens in the distance broke the silence.

I stood alongside the others who were present at the funeral, not knowing if I would blend in with the ones standing near the casket. I was met with a surprised look, as the one I had chosen to stand with was none other than Don himself, the head mob boss. He moved forward to stand; his bodyguards reached for their guns and fired.

I hit two bodyguards, the other two hit me, with enough force to knock me down to the ground. I reached for my second piece, aiming wildly and hitting to second two guards, who were knocked sideways by the stream of bullets.

The coffin opened and the occupant opened fire upon all there and killed most before stopping. The police arrived, stopped, and ran out of their vehicles, opening fire upon the casket, while covering me. These were not ordinary officers, they were trained in gun battles and knew how to protect me regardless of their own safety.

I dove for the nearest car, turning as I dove, opening fire upon the casket. The person inside fell backwards as they continued to fire and was riddled by bullet fire. I was quickly placed inside the car, and we left the scene. Then the real police arrived, chasing us as we tried to leave.

One bullet took out the passenger, the door opened, and he was pushed out, cars running over the body as they continued the chase.

They were beside us, then behind us, then beside us, and then two of cars were rammed and disabled. The last car rode beside us, ramming us and crushing the rear passenger. I pushed the body out the door and cars ran over his body.

We figured we were home free, when a loud explosion happened in the front of the car, throwing me out the rear and causing the car to burst into flames with the driver being burnt alive. I landed on the car that was in pursuit of us. The brakes flung my body forward into twisted metal and heated flames.

I had on a fire-retardant suit, which took most of the heat and impact. I rolled then got up, heading back in the direction of the church I had been to before. By this time, I was limping and bloody.

I was at the road where the funeral and church were, looking all around for any signs of danger. I was thrown back again by two explosions, landing in the trees, unable to move this time.

The third one was the ending one as it ripped through me, throwing parts of me in several directions. It had torn me apart like a ragdoll. Then several armed men, arriving there, seen that I was not an actual man, I was more an experiment gone awry.

I was torn and burnt and only functioning as an AI, without any form or any way to tell what I once been. Any trace of my being human was replaced by machine and what was supposed to be a human likeness that resembled a human being.

I was then that I knew my existence was no more than that of what they thought I should be to resemble a human man.