A Futile Effort

This post is another response to a creative writing prompt, this one essentially asking for the modernization of a myth. I chose to use this one.

Kaizuki - In Buganda he is the brother of Death, who is unsuccessful in his attempts to kill his brother, and so prevent human beings from dying.

And here is the response. It manifested itself as a screenplay, but as the script format and blog format are incompatible, I had to make some adjustments.

INT. DIVE BAR – NIGHT

Red and green lights behind the bar give off ethereal colors that tint everything they hit. A ripped and faded swimsuit calendar hangs on the wall, displaying the July 1994 page. Two dart boards and a pool table with worn, toxic green felt are unoccupied.

A small group of townies stand huddled at the back corner of the bar. Flannel shirts, Carhartt jackets, work boots and khaki carpenter’s pants make up the bulk of their wardrobe.

In the middle of their circle sits KAI, a haggard looking middle-aged man, his face streaked with age and coarse stubble but his head full of filthy, thick black hair. His clothes carry stains of various colors and textures, some identifiable as vomit and spilled beer, others more ominous.

He downs a shot of amber liquid and sets the glass down next to a half-empty bottle.

KAI: No, I told you, World War 1 just gave me the idea. That one was your fault.

Kai points a scolding finger wildly around the crowd in front of him. The townies look on with shit-eating grins on their faces, clearly amused.

KAI: I started World War 2. Thought I could overwhelm him…get him to let his guard down.

He stares down at the bar as he speaks, then sits silent. A small bit of drool forms in the corner of his mouth. As it collects, it begins to drip down the creases in his face and dangle off of his chin.

KAI: …stupid fucking idea.

Kai picks up the bottle and pours himself another shot. He drinks it.

TOWNIE #1: Hey Charlie, how come you keep letting this guy drink? You would’ve cut me off the second I told you I was Death’s brother!

CHARLIE: This guy’s the best entertainment we’ve had since the stripper pole became a Petri dish – he can drink all he wants.

As Kai puts the shot glass down, CHARLIE grabs the bottle and fills it up again.

CHARLIE: So Kai, how exactly do you plan to kill Death? It seems like a…what’s the word…

TOWNIE #2: Paradox?

CHARLIE: Motherfuckin’ Webster over here!

Laughter erupts from the crowd.

CHARLIE: Yeah, a “paradox”.

Kai stares into his shot glass, twisting it in his fingers, watching the liquid ripple back and forth.

KAI: That’s a question I’ve failed to answer my entire life.

He downs the booze, opening his throat and letting the liquid pour down without even swallowing. The glass immediately gets refilled, the bottle now only a quarter full.

KAI: Until today.

The townies all look at each other, the stupid looks on their faces replaced by a more serious interest.

KAI: See, I’m his whipping boy. He commits the crimes; I suffer the guilt and punishment. There is no consequence to him.

Kai drinks the shot and slams the glass down as he finishes. He stands up quickly, using one free hand to stabilize himself on the bar.

KAI: My failure is what perpetuates death. And as long as I continue to live, I will continue to fail.

He grabs the bottle off the bar and tilts it vertically over his mouth, letting the last of the alcohol spill into his stomach.

KAI: Which really only leaves one solution.

The townies jump as Kai CRASHES the empty bottle down onto the bar, leaving a jagged mess of glass in his hand.

KAI: Killing him is impossible. Fortunately, I’m not so lucky.

Charlie lunges over the bar to stop Kai as he presses the glass shards into the skin of his neck and pulls straight across, but he is too late. Kai’s body falls to the ground. Sheets of blood flow out of the gash, down his neck and into a puddle on the floor.

The patrons push in and kneel down, some barking orders while others heed their requests and fetch the requested items. The smooth fountain of blood continues to pour from Kai’s neck.

Their FRANTIC YELLING slowly fades out as everything surrounding Kai’s fresh corpse becomes engulfed in darkness. He lies there, suddenly alone.

A figure emerges from the thick black, shaking its head slowly.

VOICE: Brother…

DEATH walks into the fading aura of light cast by Kai’s body. He is dressed in a shiny, pinstriped suit befitting of a Japanese salaryman. His skin has a dull grey hue.

His bottom lip has two diagonal cuts that extend almost down to his chin, splitting it into three flaps of skin. Small metal loops pierce the lip at the cuts, holding them together. Chains run from these loops up to his ear piercings, giving the lip fixtures additional support.

KAI: I will no longer harbor the guilt of your actions. This is the final death I will take the fault for. The rest are on you.

Kai’s voice sounds choked by liquid, blood bubbling in his open throat as he speaks.

Death looks down at his brother. He begins to laugh, the chains on his face pulling taut as his lower lip moves up and down.

DEATH: You have misinterpreted my nature completely. Didn’t you ever think there might be a reason you could never kill me?

Death kneels over Kai’s body, slowly extending his left arm. His hand hovers over Kai’s face. Imprinted in the flesh is Kai’s death mask, a shifting relief that twists and distorts to fit the exact contours of his face as it slides perfectly into place…

CUT TO BLACK.

THE END.

Everything you swore would never change
Is different now.