Bonfire Mysteries Sequel 1

A Bonfire Mystery

A Sequel

The Reaper’s Gift Of Redemption.

“Wait. Something this way comes, scraping on the floor outside the door of my death room.”

By

Donald Harry Roberts

Foreword

Ok, I get it. The last thing you expected was a sequel to the first story, A Bonfire Mystery because I started off saying there wouldn’t be one. But near the end of the story, I realized I wasn’t really dying, so I suggested there might be a sequel. Then I ended the original story with: “Wait. Something this way comes, scraping on the floor outside the door of my death room.” So, I guess I better start with an explanation of that, in this, the unplanned sequel of A Bonfire Mystery. And in case you have forgotten, my name is Camp Bonfire and I am a very wealthy Private Investigator, or should I say I was.

The door to the death room opened and there he stood, my client. You remember, Judas Hobbs. I am sure you also remember that I am a beast in my own right having greedily disposed of my parents who locked me into a boarding school for most of my life. I blew them up in their car and actually got away with parricide and inherited their wealth. And lived happily ever after, until Hobbs showed up. You may have understood the implications of the story, in particular, Judas Hobbs was not exactly human though I would not go so far as to say he was the devil. Or maybe he was human, a human possessed by a devil's henchman. Even after the incident at death's door/room, I am uncertain as to Hobbs’ position, but I am completely certain of my own situation, which is half good if you think positively and half bad if you think negatively. When I think on it even deeper, it turns out simply to be a fact of life and death, and sometimes there’s hardly any difference.

Judas looked at me with pity and said, “Such a tragedy your young life was. I understand your need for revenge. That is why I have come to offer you a very special gift, but of course, it comes with conditions.”

“Well. I thought I was dying but apparently I was mistaken.” I replied.

“You are not dead yet because I have not carried you out of life.” Judas Hobbs announced.

I said, “So you are dead, or should I say the personification of death.”

“No. Death cannot take human form, but I am his representative, more or less.” Judas Hobbs responded amusedly.

I said, “Ok. I am not dead yet or quite yet and you are not dead just a henchman and apparently a messenger. So what is this very special gift with conditions?”

Hobbs said back, “Actually it's not death’s gift to you it is mine though death approves because dead has an odd sense of humor. Death likes to watch people fail especially people like you.”

I said back, “Ok. I got it. What is the special gift?”

“A chance at the redemption of course,” the henchman replied.

“Ok. Shoot. What’s the chance and what’s the condition.” I sighed, getting bored of our conversation fast.

“First of all, I must reboot your impression of death. The fact is it has very little to do with evil in itself. Death is but a state of linear existence for you corporeal. The devil character has little control over the transition from the physical to the spiritual existence. The Devil comes into it after the fact. The other thing is most deaths have little to do with evil, except that evil people die like anyone else and have to face the consequences of having lived in the embrace of evil.

A murdered person is not inherently evil though may have been evil but they are not judged on dying, only their mode of living. The murderer of course must be in some ways evil but not necessarily, yet murder is an evil act so one must stand before the Devil and be judged.”

I interrupted, “You are babbling. Can You get to the point?”

“You must learn patience. I am getting to my point but I am doing so in the fashion of complete transparency. So don’t interrupt again or you will lose your opportunity to redeem yourself.”

I shut up and listened. Not because of the threat but because I felt a certain respect for Henchman’s authoritative response, something no one had ever tried to impress upon me.

“Got it. Please continue.”

The Henchman nodded and continued his oral dissertation.

“But one evil act, even murder does not mean you, Camp Bonfire or unavoidable destine to eternity in the realm of the Devil, which, by the way, is not exactly fire and brimstone and filled entirely with evil. That said, it is not a nice place to be because it is ruled by evil and everyone in it is evil and do evil things and you can be murdered and resurrected over and over again, or commit murder over and over again but in the devil’s realm, you are burdened with guilt and remorse even as you commit that same murder.

I won’t get into what exists on the other side of that coin because until your redemption is complete it is of little relevance and, believe it or not, there are those who prefer to remain in that place the living call hell. It has its perks.

Between these two places, you may know that there is another realm called Purgatory. That is where the essence of death inhabits and where all redemptions are processed. In fact, you are given a clean slate, or should I say a blank slate and a task, of a sort. You remember who you are but you do not retain any memory of your past except that you are aware you had a childhood of some description and that you have a dark place in your memory that haunts you in your nightmares, which you never remember when you wake up, you only sense the evil of it. Your task will involve making a decision, making the choice to embrace good or plunge again into evil.

Do you follow me so far?”

I replied flatly, “Yah. I get it. I’ve heard of that place, Purgatory. I get to go there and clean up my act.”

The Henchman said back, “Good. Now I will set you straight on Purgatory. That is only one doctrine name for it. There are many but Death has its own name for it and I must say it’s a much better fitting name than all the others. And it is different for everyone though it is populated by those same millions who are lost. In the case of Camp, Bonfire purgatory is represented by a city, ever locked in a nocturnal scope filled with endless sorts of good, evil, neutral, and inert creatures of humanity and a few inhuman characters to add spice to your redemption.”

I asked sharply. “Ok. What is my task?”

“You will recognize it when you see it or hear or however it comes to you. It will present to you all that you will required to define the good from evil, neutral and the inert element of your task and make a choice to accommodate your redemption.”

“Right Mr. Henchman. When does it begin?”

“It already has Mr. Bonfire. It already has.”

I blinked out. I blinked in. It happened that fast with not even a hint of transitional sensations.

At the risk of belching out a cliché, and the worst of the worse, but only because it is true, “It was night, the kind of night no one should be driving in but I was. I was returning home. I didn’t know from where nor did it matter or did I care. The sign-up ahead read the City Of Redemption. Population 5,000,000. I knew as I crossed into its borders it was a city eternal locked into a dark and stormy night.

To Be Continued with Second 2: The Bonfire Redemption.