Ahriman: Ahriman

By R L Broederdorf

Burk Arrmann finds himself in a dark, demented, demonic existence, being neither dead or living. The Demon of Chaos and Destruction, Ahriman, has taken Burk's existence to use in collecting souls of those who owe Ahriman for worldly favors. Burk finds himself killing Ahriman's minions in many perverse and demented ways. He himself is subject to pain and suffering in the realm of demons while also finding their sick dark humor of torturing the living to suit his demeanor. This is his forever, there is no escape and there are demons who wish to see him suffer for their own pleasure. It is one hell of an eternal existence for Burk, there is no way out.

This book has some strong language and describes some very dark, demented situations. If any of these are not to your liking, do not read this book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roger Broederdorf
• Release date: Jun 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223437765

R L Broederdorf

I have been writing manuscripts since 2008, but decided to self publish some of my manuscripts since 2021. I write in many genres. I have written manuscripts in non-fiction, fiction, fictional history, and science fiction. I would be considered a starving writer as I write more as a hobby than try to make a living from my endeavors. My greatest creation so far is the four book saga of "Alsaunce" which took me almost two years to create. It has sold copies in the USA, Australia, Brazil, and the UK. I will continue to write and self publish because maybe, just maybe, something I write will bring enjoyment to another person and to me this is the greatest reward for writing.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Just Shoot Me

There was a severe storm warning out for the evening as Burk Arrmann was making haste to his favorite corner liquor store to get his daily pint of Crown Choice whiskey. It was his favorite blend, and at 80 proof, it helped him forget about his miserable life every night before he would pass out from drinking the entire pint.

Burk walked into the store at concisely five o’clock each evening where the clerk would have his pint in a bag ready for Burk to take home with him. He laid down his twenty-five dollars and told the clerk, as usual, to keep the change.

On his way out of the store he ran into the local police beat walker, Stephanie Shulemon. Stephanie was just twenty-four and had been walking the neighborhood beat where Burk lived, for the past four months.

Hey Mr. Arrmann, getting tonight’s liquid sleeping pill again?

Yes officer. I am not driving, and my walking has not begun to stagger, yet. I think I will be alright. Quite the storm coming in at the moment. Wonder if all that lightning will strike some unlucky or maybe some lucky person.

Mr. Arrmann, I have heard that your life has not been exactly good to you for some time now, but try to see the good in life and see if you can change your perspective.

I appreciate your concern officer Shulemon, but honestly, I do not mind dying either. If you cannot feel, you cannot hurt.

You anticipate doing something harmful to yourself?

Other than drinking myself silly, no, I am much too big of a coward to end my own life. Now, if someone would like to come along and do it, I would not stop them.

Mr. Arrmann, you need to quit the bottle, maybe go to church, and find a good and loving woman to care for you.

Don’t need or want the church officer, have plenty of money to buy a woman, if I want one. Just do not care to get involved with any female. Why don’t you just say I am robbing the store and shoot me.

Very funny Mr. Arrmann, you know I do not carry a gun and my taser will only bring you pain, not death.

Ok officer, I thank you for your concerns. You should find yourself some rain protection from this incoming storm and I will go home and have my usual dinner. Have a nice night officer

You too Mr. Arrmann.

Back in his small condominium, Burk made his quarter pound hot dog with a hand full of frozen fries and a scoop of cole slaw. When eating dinner, Burk always drank a beer, the whiskey was his night cap where he would sit out on his balcony and usually fall asleep. With this night’s thunderstorm already showing signs of its severity, Burk thought about whether he should sit outside or not. If he decided to, he hoped lightning would strike him dead. He would welcome an end to his miserable life.

Burk had a very good life until about ten years ago. His son had served in the army which made Burk and his wife, Elise, very proud parents. When Richard’s second enlistment was up, he went off and joined a private corporate mercenary brigade and disappeared. Burk had not heard from him since.

Three years earlier, Elise collapsed in their home from a massive heart attack. Burk called for help and did all he could with CPR to keep her alive, but it did not work. She was buried three days later.

Finally, a little over a year and a half ago, the company where Burk worked at for twenty-three years, was bought out, and a major downsizing took place. He was given three years severance pay and told to enjoy his retirement. He now felt he had nothing to look forward to or live for. Since then he had decided to drink himself to death.

He finished his dinner and saw the storm was now in the city, constant lightning, and the thunder shook his building. Burk chuckled and took his bottle of Crown Choice and went outside into the storm. The wind was strong, and the rain was already falling lightly. He sat down in his metal patio chair and just waited for the end to come while he drank his whiskey.

He became drenched from the rain when it turned into a horrid downpour. Two hours later Burk was still sleeping in his metal chair as the storm had finally passed. He woke about two o’clock in the morning and went back inside, slightly chilled from his wet clothing.

He went into the bathroom and removed his wet clothes and put on his night robe. He came out and walked over to his desk and looked down at a note he wrote two months earlier. The pen still laying by the note:

.

If a person no longer wishes to live, why can’t he just take a pill that allows him to sleep forever. I am so damn tired of existing and not living, I just wish some criminal would break into my home and shoot me dead. I will not press charges.  Sincerely, Burk Arrmann.

.

Burk was starting to become upset that the pint of whiskey was no longer making him pass out as fast as it did before. In fact, it hardly made him stagger now, felt more like a buzz than a drunk. He was considering moving up to fifths because the pint just was not doing the job anymore. He lay down on his bed thinking about thirty years earlier when it was Elise, a very young Richard, and himself, traveling about the country and going to many of the national parks. He closed his eyes and went into nothingness.

The next night was not much different for Burk, except the sun was setting and the skies were clear. He sat at his desk, drinking a beer, looking again at the note he wrote months earlier and wondering if he should just end it all. He lived on the third floor in his building, jumping off the balcony, was not a certain death fall. He could step up his drinking until his liver quit, but that could take years, he was not that patient. Then he reached down to his bottom desk drawer and pulled out a very polished wood and brass box; inside, a replica 1864 black powder Derringer.

Burk had bought the small pistol because it was protection and would not need to be registered as a hand gun.  He brought out another box that contained mini-balls, black powder, wadding and cleaning utensils. He slowly loaded the pistol thinking where would be the best place to put the mini-ball into his head. He finished loading the pistol and placed it against his right temple. He pulled back the hammer and only needed to let his finger flinch and he would get his wish.

Then the thought of someone having to clean up his brain spatter, maybe him laying on the floor for days beginning to decay, and then the smell. He brought the pistol down from his temple and thought again for a few minutes.

Now he pointed the gun at his heart. He thought, what if the mini-ball lodged in his ribs and did not hit his heart. If he did manage to actually kill himself, someone would still need to clean up and air out his condo; he took the pistol away from his heart. His realization was that he truly was too much of a coward to take his own life. Maybe if he shot a child he would get a death sentence, but more than likely, life in prison and that solved nothing. Then he had a very dark thought, killing a police officer in his state, meant a death sentence.

Which police officer should he kill? Stephanie, Stephanie Shulemon, a woman police officer. Killing her would surely get him the death sentence he wanted. He was not keen about taking her life, but she did not appear to have a family and walking the beat she did, she must not be too great of an officer. More than likely he thought, she got her badge because she was a woman helping make department quotas.

His pistol was easy to conceal and so he could approach her without her noticing what he carried. After killing her, he would waive his right to a fair trial and ask the judge to give him the sentence of execution; after all, this was all premeditated. He just needed to add to his note that he decided he did not like officer Shulemon and so he got rid of her. So twisted, so evil, however, he would finally get his death wish.

The next afternoon Burk went and bought his usual pint of Crown Choice and waited outside the store in hopes that officer Shulemon would make her round and stop to talk with him. Like clockwork, officer Shulemon turned the corner and came up to Burk and smiled.

Still trying to kill yourself with the bottle Mr. Arrmann?

I have been trying to do this for a year and a half officer. Got my checkup back a couple weeks ago and the damn medical report says I am a ninety-three percentile of healthiness for a man my age. If nothing else this whiskey is good for me. Maybe I need to find some crap whiskey or find a moon-shiner and get some real alcohol poisoning.  Officer Shulemon, if it weren’t for complete shit luck, I would have no luck what so ever. Life for me just sucks.

Mr. Arrmann, please, I beg you, think about going to church and find the Lord. He will help you through your troubles.

Officer Shulemon, that is about the most idiotic thing anyone could say to me. Screw God, shit, he took my wife, sent my son away, took my career away from me. I do not need God, do not want God. Maybe you need him.

Officer Shulemon was very surprised by Burk’s answer, I apologize for upsetting you Mr. Arrmann. God does help those who need help. Why don’t you want his help?

Because officer Shulemon, I believe he needs to help you first.

Excuse me Mr. Arrmann, I do not understand.

Before she knew it, Burk pulled out his pistol from his pocket and had the barrel at her chest and he pulled the trigger. Officer Shulemon fell to the ground immediately. Burk’s shot found her heart, she was dead.

Now officer Shulemon, you can ask God personally if he would help me. I would bet he says no. Probably will tell you there is a place in hell waiting for me.

Burk did not hear the screams about him as the sidewalk was filled with evening people going home. Some man came from the gathering crowd and hit Burk in the face, knocking him out. Burk never heard the ambulance, or the police cars arrive at the scene. The man who hit him had his foot planted firmly on Burk’s chest making sure he would not get up.

Soon there were over fifteen officers on the scene plus a medical team. Burk had been turned over face down and was cuffed while he was still unconscious. Officer Shulemon had been placed on a gurney and covered with a sheet and placed in the back of the ambulance to be taken to the morgue.

Since Burk was still unconscious, he too was lifted onto another gurney, placed in a second ambulance, and rushed off to the nearest hospital. The medics in the back of the ambulance finally got Burk to open his eyes. His lip had been cut and blood had run down onto his shirt, he was still a little dazed. A police officer rode along in the ambulance as a departmental policy to insure the felon would not try to escape.

The officer said angrily, What the hell did you shoot her for?

Burk was still dazed from the punch he took on the chin, Shit, where did the freight train come from. He then realized what he was asked, Oh, the officer, she ought to be a preacher not a law officer. Tried telling me all about God and how he helps those in need. She isn’t gonna be preaching to anyone anymore. I sure as hell do not need anyone’s god.

You shot her for trying to save your soul?

What damned soul are you talking about officer. I haven’t had a soul for years. Can I get these asinine cuffs off my wrists. I am not planning on going anywhere but the execution table.

You are damned straight on that Mr.

Arrmann to you sir, Mr. Burk Arrmann.

You are dead man walking Mr. Arrmann, you bastard.

I sure as hell hope so.

What do you mean you hope so? What, are you some sick demented idiot?

That would be a good description for me.

Do you even know what you are saying?

What the hell do you think jerk. I shot her with intent to kill her. The little bitch acting like such a goodie, goodie. Preaching religion and all. Hate people like that.

You planned on killing her?

Sure as hell did, just happy my little pistol did the job. Was not sure if a black powder pistol could actually kill a person. Now I know it does.

What are you, some mental case?

Oh, no, no, no. Do not say that. I am as clear in thought about what I did as can be. I meant to kill her; no insanity involved. I am about as mentally fit as the President. But then again, maybe the man is a lunatic and just hides his insanity well.

I hope you know everything we are saying is recorded, have to for legal reasons.

Should I sing, how I shot the sheriff?

What?

Burk begins to laugh, But that in no way did not shoot the deputy.

You are crazy Arrmann.

No, no, no, no. Completely sane, the world is crazy, and I want to get off. I just want to get off.

Well Mr. Burk Arrmann, you will be granted your wish. Why didn’t you just commit suicide and not take someone else’s life just because yours is shit.

Honestly sir, too much of a coward. If you would like, shoot me dead now and save the tax payer some money.

You are crazy.

No! No! Not crazy at all, do not use that word. Look at me and listen carefully. I know what the hell I am doing, so do not try to screw things up by getting those couch doctors involved. You are going to take a slam dunk case and turn it into a million-dollar fiasco. Just book me, have the judge condemn me, and send me to hell.

CHAPTER 2

Book Him

The ambulance pulled into the emergency entrance at the hospital. There were police officers everywhere, as was the press, waiting for Burk to be taken from the ambulance and led into the emergency room.  The back of the ambulance opened, and the flashes of cameras came from everywhere. Six or seven television crews were all trying to get a good view of the cop killer. Burk did not try to hide his face, but somberly allowed the police officers to shove him forward and into the hospital. The other officers formed a line to keep people and the press from following the suspect into the emergency ward.

Burk was sat on the table in the emergency ward and a doctor came to take his vitals. Four police officers stood about Burk; all had their hands on their guns. Burk noticed immediately how they were ready to kill him. He wondered if he should make a move and have them shoot him on the spot. Then some crazy thought came to him. For the first time in many months, he felt like he was having fun. Why end the fun so quickly when the end result is the death penalty in the first place. May as well go out with a smile on his face.

Doc, I am breathing and yes, my jaw is sore, but damn it doc, you are examining me like I have been in a car accident.

Protocol, I need to record your vitals. You were knocked unconscious and could have a concussion. I need to be sure before you are taken to booking that you are in a condition to do so. It is also for your own good, if you appear suddenly injured, the police department cannot say it was from the punch you took.

Doc, you are saying these nice officers standing around me, would like to injure me severely? Police are basically gentlemen, would never do something like that.

Burk looked about him and could tell each and every officer would love to beat him to death. His choice of murdering officer Shulemon was the perfect choice. Young, attractive, female police officer, he picked the perfect trifecta.  If he did not get the death penalty from this action, there was something critically wrong with the justice system.

Burk was finding himself feeling renewed and full of energy. He wished he could thank Stephanie for his newly found outlook of life. Unfortunately, it would end in just a few months, he hoped. Probably by then he felt his enthusiasm for this present life would be gone again. Death would be embraced once more.

A couple hours later, Burk found himself at the precinct headquarters being booked on premeditated murder of a police officer, just what he had wished for. In one of the interrogation rooms, wrists and ankles in shackles, Burk sat there waiting to be questioned. There were three police officers in the room along with the interrogating officer, who was finding Burk to be quite unbelievable. He was wondering if Burk was actually insane after speaking with him for a short time.

State your name please.

Burk Arrmann.

Address?

Hell, or it will be soon.

You do not know your address?

Hell yes, and so do you. Why waste my time with frivolous questions.

I need you to state your address for the records.

If I refuse to answer the stupid question, you do what? Sentence me to death? Burk started chuckling.

Please, your address.

No.

No?

No.

Birth date.

For Christ’s sake pencil pusher, you have all that info from my driver’s license. Is the information correct on my driver’s license, yes. Want me to sign an affidavit I swear it is correct? Shit, no wonder nothing gets done quickly now days. You want information you already have. This is nuts, just crap.

It would be better if you cooperated Mr. Arrmann.

Damn you make me laugh. Hello, is there anybody in there? I shot a police officer, I know the law in this state, I get injected and sent to hell. Screw your meaningless questions. I confess I killed officer Stephanie Shulemon for preaching God to me. Where do I sign the confession. Damn you guys make me irritable.

You wish to sign a confession without an attorney present?

If I wanted one of those suck butts to represent me, I would invoked my right against self-incrimination. I know damn well what I did. Am I proud of myself, no. Just for the record, make sure my apology to the parents of Stephanie is in my confession. Can that be done or is that against police policy?

We will let them know you regret what you did.

Burk became serious, I do regret what I did. Stephanie was a good person; she did care about me. She was a sweetheart, but she was the perfect target for me. That is all I will say.

Mr. Arrmann, we do have some background on you. Your son has been missing for over a decade with some mercenary army. Your wife died; you lost your career. It is enough to make anyone break and go a little insane.

Insane is something I am not. I guess if I say I am not insane, that means I am? What the hell do I need to do to have a judge say guilty and execute him.

You want to die Mr. Arrmann?

What do you think professor. You guys are so frustrating.

You will represent yourself in court?

Do I have to go to court? Can’t I just go before a judge and admit my guilt and get my sentence. What is with all these damn formalities. I killed a cop damn it. The law says I die. Christ sake, follow your own damn laws.

One of the attending officers said, You are trying to commit suicide, aren’t you Burk.

Damn straight I am.

Why didn’t you just put your gun to your own head instead of shooting the officer?

Duh, like maybe I am a big ass coward. I have been trying to kill myself for the last year, just can’t get myself to do it. If you want, pull your gun and save the state some money. Just put the bullet between my eyes, say I went for the pencil pusher. I am fine with that.

Another officer remarked, The damn ultra-liberals would love us to shoot you right here and now, so they can go on another big campaign about police brutality. As sick as it may sound, they are probably happy you killed officer Shulemon. Maybe you will become their poster child.

I will pass on that. You guys do what you need to do, I have no problem with that. You do ten thousand things correct and no one notices, do something just a little off protocol and the news and them are all over you.

Burk, I do not get you at all. You really killed Stephanie so the state would put you to death?

Yeah, I wish I wasn’t such a shithead coward, but I am.

In the observation room the lieutenant and precinct captain were watching and listening to Burk being questioned. The captain remarked, As much as I am infuriated and pissed off at this jackass, he is a victim of the times. He may say he is sane, and he probably mostly is, but his reasoning needs to be checked out. Get the county shrink in here to talk with him. Put him in a cell by himself. Get a transcript of his confession and let him sign it.

I will have the D.A. let the courts know, Mr. Arrmann wishes for a bench trial only, no attorney. It is what he wants. Damn it all, his feeling of hopelessness killed Stephanie, he even didn’t want to do it.  He just wants to die. The whole situation is bullshit.

Burk stayed in the questioning room until his confession was transcribed and made official for him to sign. First, he read over the transcript of his questioning and smiled and chuckled at times of his responses. He signed the transcript and then signed the confession that stated he shot and killed officer Stephanie Shulemon for preaching God to him. He pushed the signed papers back to the investigating officer along with the pen.

Now what gentlemen?

One of the officers said, We take you to a holding cell until the county psychiatrist arrives to check your mental state of mind. If he says your as sane as you claim you are, you go before the judge in the morning to be arraigned. He will pass judgment on you and send you off to the penitentiary where you will go to death row and wait for your day of execution. Mr. Arrmann, I wish you had a better way of killing yourself then taking Stephanie’s life. I sort of feel sorry for you in a very bizarre way. The anger you display at times shows your frustration with life.

Your home has been thoroughly searched and the note you wrote months ago has been taken in as evidence for the court. I wish there was a pill for a person in your situation. Just remember, you can ask for an attorney at anytime to appeal whatever the judge places on you. Maybe you will have an epiphany and want to go a different path.

Thank you officer for being accommodating. No, I have no reason to walk this earth. I hear once you kill with intent, it is easy to kill again with intent. Best I check out now. Do not feel any sympathy for me what so ever. I knew what I was doing and why I was doing it. Take me to my holding cell, cannot wait to screw with your shrink. Everyone in the room chuckled a little.

CHAPTER 3

Sane or Insane

Burk waited in his holding cell for the psychiatrist to arrive to question him and judge his sanity. The cell was very plain. A platform with a mattress and no sheets or blankets. A toilet without a seat cover and almost no water in the toilet bowl. A few sheets of very thin toilet paper. A very small sink and high up on the wall a small window that no one could crawl through, unless they were maybe four years of age. It appeared to Burk he was in a suicide watch cell and not a holding cell. Outside his cell an officer on guard duty sat, reading a book entitled Unexpected.