A Conversation With The Devil
The candle burns with the flame dancing about in your brass container. It is 3 am and you have something cooking in the recesses of your brain. As you sit here, in your dark room of your father’s log cabin, staring into the flame of your candle, you think of all those times you were forced to go to church. Your mother is a beastly woman. She makes you put on that ugly dress every week for Sunday School.
Sunday School… What do these people have to teach me? Nothing that anyone would care to be interested in. Sunday School. School of the Sun day. I hate Sunday school…
You think to yourself. You rub your fingers gently across the flame. The candle licks your skin with bitter joy hoping for a snack. The scare has gone mad around here. Witches and warlocks among us. The fear gets more sinister everyday.
Perhaps I will clad myself in black garment and caress the Devil by the loins! It would be better than all of these Christians acting like they actually give a damn about their rules and their God. I shall leave myself token to his blackest bidding. I shall manipulate these fornicators in joy! Why, just last week I saw Miss Bradshaw giving Mr Macy a kiss on his middles behind the church yard in the trees! HYPOCRITES!
You say gently under your breath, for you do not want your father to awaken to your words, that would surely bring lashing. Staring at the candle your darkest dreams come true. You realize you must make a pact with the prince of devils.
OH Satan! That eternal joy forbidden in my soul! I call unto thee to make a bargain!
Yes, my child?
Who, who is that? Is that you Percy? You filthy bag of fleas! I’ll get you for scaring me!
Tis the darkest moon and the brightest. Within the darkest night, the full lights it up as day. For the moon wishes to become greater than that Sun. That Sun soaking up all the glory. It is the moon who is the mother of all. For when the Sun was gone, she chose to light your way as much as she could, not out of neglect and no concern, no my dear child, she cares.
What are you talking about? Who are you!? Name yourself!
I am the darkest night and the pitch between the stars. I am the abominable end that must come to all. For you shant face me without worry. I am the end of all. I am your fury. You can call me Lucy my dear child. I shall take you in as my own.
You… You are the devil?
I am cursed by such a name. It is an insult thrown at me from those who despise the true light. I am… The night.
I want my enemies to suffer Lucy! I want them to scream until their bones crack! I hate them, I hate them! They make me go to church and wear stupid dresses and tell me how I am supposed to act, when they themselves can’t even do what they say I am!
You are. But never the less my child, revenge is something to avoid. Nothing can be gained by causing harm on others, this would in the end reflect back upon you according to universal law. Come away with me child. I shall take you to my home.
The black forest.
But… The black forest is forbidden… All who enter it go mad Lucy…
Fear not child. Come away and join me and others. There is a true family awaiting you in the Black Forest. Enter it upon 3 am tomorrow night and make our home yours as well. I bid you goodnight child.
You sit and wonder if this could be true. You wonder and ponder over the next 23 hours. Upon 3 am, you find the temptation irresistible. You enter the black forest.
(Taken from my Blog on WordPress)