Caddlemen Estate

Rain splattered the muddy ground relentlessly.  Lightning flashed and thunder clapped and the horses reared their heads in anger as the drive whipped them endlessly, urging them forward down the road.  Inside the carriage sat a man whose name had not been heard in those parts for a decade.  He was tall and thin, with dark hair and a long dark beard.  He was young, but his face was worn, as though he were older.  He had seen many a rough time in his life, even though he was in fact young.  He was but twenty-five years of age.  His name was Ashton.  He was the last surviving heir of the Caddlemen family.  He had left when he was fifteen to work in the city.  Upon hearing of his parents death, and that their mansion was granted to him along with their fortune he was returning to his home town of Crem to settle the business with the estate.

And he arrived.  The front gates were blowing around in the wind and creaking eerily.  The great mansion looked disturbingly haunted in the dark stormy weather.  There was a light on in one of the upstairs windows.  Ashton thought this was strange as there wasn't supposed to be anyone in the house.  He approached the door, and as he did so the light upstairs went out. He took out the key and unlocked the front door. It opened with a loud groan of old wood and hinges.  He stepped inside and took off his coat and hung it on the coat hanger next to the entrance.  He squinted around in the dark and spotted a candle sitting on the center table in the middle of the room.  He approached it and took out his matchbook and lit the candle.  The flame flickered to life and settled warmly as he raised the candle above his head to see a view of the room.  It was a large entry with the center table in the middle, two tables against the side walls and two sets of stairs leading up to the second and third levels.  Lighting lit up the inside of the house here and there, and thunder continued to grumble and rumble outside.

"Hello?"  Ashton called out.  "Is anyone here?"

He made his way upstairs, holding the candle out in front of him.

Outside the driver unloaded his luggage and then left, heading back towards town.

Inside there was silence.

Caddlemen estate stayed silent forever more.  Talk of what happened to Ashton stirred in Crem for decades after that.  But no one knew for certain.  Lights went on and off in the house, shadowy figures were seen through the windows and someone said they saw Ashton walking the grounds one early, foggy morning.  Some said they heard screams coming from the mansion at night or during the day.  But ivy slowly enveloped the mansion and windows were covered in dust and dirt.  Kids would dare each other to get close to the house.  But that ended when a child entered the house and never came back.  The parents begged the police to search the house but the police insisted the child and simply run away from home.  In reality everyone knew even the police were to afraid of the house to search it.

Ashton sat in his chair up on the second level.  It was a large chair, leather bound and quite comfortable.  He sat next to the fire.  His body was all but lifeless it seemed.  Deep sunken eyes, long gray, stringy hair and beard, and his clothes torn and his skin gray and rotting.  He mumbled to himself as he stared into the fire.  The dead child's skin lay on the ground on front of the fire as a rug.  The unholy spirits circled Ashton as he smirked and mumbled as he stared at the flames.  This was his estate, and his rules.  The spirits made him.  They knew him, and he knew them.  This was Caddlemen Estate.

People Like That

They're angry, they're mad, they're scared
There's people like that
They're happy and glad, and exhausted with life
There's people like that
He's a coward, she's a wimp, they're just afraid
There's people like that
He's a hero, she's a champion, they're overcomers
There's people like that
He's a psycho, she's a freak, they're a little messed up
Yeah there's people like that
He's a murderer, she's a thief, they're criminals
Yeah there's people like that
He's a straight, she's gay, they're homosexuals
There's people like that
He's religious, she's an atheist, they have their differences
Yeah there's people like that
He's black, she's white, there's different color skin
Yes, there are people like that
And so what?  Who cares?  Aren't we all people, made in His image?
Yes there are all sorts of people
And God loves them all
He's loved, she's loved, we're all loved
Yes, we're people like that

Epitome

A.
B.
C.
The very first three
Reasons why
1.
2.
3.
Trying to set you free
And I'm alive

So an animal can drink from the river
But I can't, my mouth is sealed shut

Stricken down by a single blow to the mind
Of another kind, from somewhere far away

And if a man can't find himself
What does he have left?

An empty shell, of knowledge and pain
Planning to dispute the epitome of anger

Bless the Lord

Crawling up my spine
Like a spider up its web
These chills up and down
Separating truth from doubt

And the purpose of it all
Is to end what pain has given
In the end who matters
Is the beginning of who doesn't

Every breath is a gift
Every death is a blessing
All this pain is your fault
And the scars are there to bare

But the chills render me useless
As I fall to my bloodied knees
I speak to myself
I know the truth is real

And I bless the Lord
O my soul
Bless the Lord
Who brought me here

Rise Up

Forcefully waiting for the end to come
But a new beginning dawns upon you
When all is lost and hope has faded
Springs up a a light anew
And with comes a new found courage
Strength from deep within
That pounding of the drum goes on
Carried by the wind
Elegant phrases spoken by lying tongues
To please your ears and mind
But you know better than it listen
And push them far behind
Rise up against the evil tides
Rise up against the enemy
Rise up against the evil waves
And from within find thee

I'm Still Learning

So I have to believe
Much I have to learn
Forever we'll be free
Loving you has been wonderful
Me not so much
So I'll be on my way
Much I have to learn
Forever we'll be free
Loving me has been a challenge
You have been so patient
I cannot being to repay
Love is all you know is seems
You have loved me forever
You have given everything for me
Love is all you know it seems
Me not so much sadly
But I'm learning...

Oak

He'd forgotten what his name was, let alone how to spell his own name.  How sad.  How hilarious.  Depends on the person you're speaking to don't it?  Either way he had no idea who he was.  So the man asking him wouldn't be getting any kind of answer any time soon.  Regardless he continued to punch him in the face repeatedly when he failed to respond.

"What's your name?"  asked the man.

"I don't know...honestly," said the other taking a moment to spit out some blood.

The man punched him again.  This time a tooth so lovingly dislodged itself from his gums and flew across the room, causing more blood to fill his mouth.  His top lip was split as well and his nose was most likely broken.  His left eye was starting to swell.

Why couldn't he remember his name?  If he could then this whole game of punching bag would end.  He couldn't remember what he'd been doing, or how he got here.  He just woke up in this room tied to the horridly uncomfortable wooden chair.  Wasn't really his taste in style either.  He'd have preferred something oak.  Oh yeah?  Oak?  You like Oak?  That could be your name for now.  The man raised his fist again so he spat up some more blood and then said , "My name is Oak."

"Oak?  What kind of a name is that?  Doesn't matter.  Tell me, Oak, why you're here.  Why were you inside the facility?"

Facility?  That sort of rang a bell for him.  It sounded familiar to him.  But why?  He didn't know what it was, and of course had no idea why he was here or what he had been doing beforehand.

"Honestly...I don't even know.  I can't remember anything okay?  I just woke up here tied to your ugly chair."

"You don't remember huh?"  asked the man.  "So if you won't talk then I have no choice but to put you in the program."

"Program?  What do you mean?"

"You'll find out soon enough.  I can only imagine that's what you were here for.  You and all your nasty reporter friends always trying to butt in on what we do here."

"Where is here?  Where the heck am I even?"

"Stop playing dumb kid, you know exactly where you are and what you were doing.  No matter, that's all part of your past now.  Your future begins here, Oak....Take him away boys."

Two men in suits untied him from the chair and began directing him towards the only door in the room.  The third man watched as he wiped his scrapped knuckles with a damp towel.  The two men brought him down a series of hallways until they came to what looked like a series of cells.  They opened the last one on the left and threw him inside.  It was a padded cell, but padded with a strange material that he had never felt before.  It felt thick and strong, almost like a bullet/stab proof material of some sort.  He couldn't help but notice several deep cuts in the material on one side.

"Have a nice stay," chuckled one of the men in suits.

They closed the door and the cell went pitch black.  There was no light whatsoever.  So here he was, now part of some program and he had no idea where he was or what his name was...wait...Paul.  That was his name.  How sad.  How hilarious.  Either way, he didn't care for that name much now that he thought about it, Oak was a much better name....Yes, he'd be Oak from now on...