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Modern Day Devils P4
By Snake - Mark
The doors to the church opened up before he even reached him, no sign of a doorman on either side of the two way opening. Mark, unturned, entered slowly, a rush of hatred blowing through him as he walked in between two glass-stained portraits of Jesus.
Mark passed empty pews, wondering to himself why the church was empty. As he moved closer and closer to the rather large cross at the back center of the church, he felt a great deal anger surge through him. He knew not why, but figured it either had to do with the fact that it was a symbol of holiness, or if it was anger towards those that crucified him.
Kneeling down gently in front of the cross, he put his hands together under his chin and smiled slyly, not knowing why he even did so. The moment his eyes closed, the cross began to illuminate, sending rays of light to fill up the church. The light, searing his eyeballs, drove Mark to stand abruptly and place his hand above his eyes, as if to try to block some of the holy light out.
The light started to fade slowly, leaving Mark with his feeling of being alone dissipating. He felt eyes upon him; dark, gloomy eyes. He paused for a second and listened, waiting for some type of human noise to break the silence; but still he heard nothing. Feeling a great deal of insecurity, he turned swiftly in his place, almost as if his feet had left the ground.
He paused again, his eyes taking in the new look the church had. The two portraits of Jesus were now missing, replaced solely by two torches, each burning a bright red flame. The pews now looked like some sort of medieval torture; each with a row of jagged spines mounted on the fronts and backs, pointed directly at the following and preceding rows.
“Interesting…” Mark spoke softly to himself, seemingly unphased by the sudden change.
Mark’s eyes scanned the room entirely. Where he stood was still in the form of the church, but what was between him and the entrance was completely different. It seemed almost like a hellish cave. Even outside the church seemed to grow to night, as there was barely any light penetrating the room. In the poorly lit room, Mark’s eyes could only make out the mere movements of a shadow towards the other side of the room. He slowly approached it; a slight chill ran down his spine as he entered the cave-like atmosphere.
“Who are you?” Mark called, his voice shaking only a bit.
“Who are you?” The shadow echoed in the same tone.
As Mark drew closer, the shadow lost its blackness and became more colorful. Mark grimaced at the things features. Two angled horns protruded from its scaly head. The tips were as sharp as knives, and the bone of the horns shined in a glimmer of light. Breaking the skin on its back were two wings, torn and beaten. The redness of the beasts color was close to that of blood.
“What business do you have here?” Mark took another step forward, losing his bravery fast.
“What business do you have here?” The beast echoed once more.
“Why do you repeat me?” Mark stomped a foot, then recoiled.
“Why do you…” The monster paused for a moment, “…feel the need to yell?”
Mark stared at the figure in front of him, an un easing familiar ness of the creature settling over him. “Who are you?”
“You do not recognize me? I figured I’d be a mirror image of he who you see every day.” It spoke in a sly fashion.
“I asked you for a name, beast.” Mark stood firm in his place.
“Most people would fear something like me; or they’d be to dumbfound to feel anything. You, though, speak as if I am a child.”
“In my eyes you are a child… though, in reality you don’t resemble one.”
“What makes me a child?” The beast retorted.
“You’re mocking nature.”
“You dare insult that which you don’t know?” The creature reached behind him and withdrew a sword which was mounted on his back. The blade, though shining, was surrounded by what seemed to be a waterfall of blood. “Shall I teach you manners, child?”
“You’d strike an unarmed enemy?” Mark placed a foot behind him, getting ready to dodge a fatal blow.
“No, no.” With the pointed edge of the sword, the beast drew attention to Mark’s left hand.
“What the hell!?” The fingers of Mark’s hand were wrapped tight around the handle of a sword.
“Still learning? I can show you all that you have!”
The beast swung its bloodied sword, Mark reacting instantly by bringing his blade up to catch the blow. The force knocked the teen back; he instantly pressed the sword against the ground to keep his footing. Mark, surprised by his quick reaction, stood up tall, holding his blade out in front of him.
“I bet you didn’t know you could react like that, ‘ey?” The beast seemed to taunt his adversary… or was he really an adversary.
“Come hellhound. Let’s see what else I know!”
The two swordsmen swung at the same time, their metals crashing against one another with a loud clank. The beast, this time, was the one to be forced back.
“Growing weak on me all ready?” Mark advanced his opponent, twirling the blade in his hand as he walked slowly. “Now tell me your name!” Mark barked as he swung the blade parallel to the beast’s chest.
Jumping backwards, the creature swung its sword in defense, missing the blade of the mortal and connecting with his arm. Blood splattered on the church floor; a piece of the torn sleeve slowly drifted to the ground.
Grimacing slightly, Mark ignored his battle wound and engaged his opponent once again. Their swords clanged and sparked as each thrust and swing brought them together. The two fought briefly before another blow connected, this time causing the beast to bleed.
Mark’s sword dragged and cut into the stomach of the creature, causing a considerable amount of blood to drip from his fresh wound. The beast stumbled to the floor, using his sword to keep him on his knees.
“All right!” The beast threw down his sword and slid himself to the nearest wall to lean on. “To put it simply… I’m you.”
“You don’t even look like me.” Mark lifted his sword and pointed the tip at the beast.
“I look like what’s inside of you…” A gasp of air was drawn in, “You’ve had dreams of devils, have you not?”
Mark nodded slowly, bringing his sword back down.
“You’ve even felt sudden rages of anger at the smallest faults, right?” The beast asked; Mark responding with a nod. “That controled anger is me.”
“I don’t understand. How is it you if you’re sitting right here?”
“You have to ask yourself, did this all really happen?” The beast stood slowly, still leaning against the wall. “You’re not entirely who you think you are, Mark. Nothing is as you thought it was. That incident you had in the gym…”
“How do you know about that?” Mark demanded.
“Because I was there. I’m the reason you left. If I weren’t there, you would have killed Justine.”
Mark paced back and forth, questioning what he was hearing. “How so?”
“Think of me as a… subconscious. If I had let you go and kill that kid, you would all ready be on a start for the wrong side.”
“Side?” Mark closed his eyes, his mind going through everything he knew so far.
“Those dreams of war, Mark, are dreams of the future to come. What you are seeing is the exact thing you will have to fight in, in due time.”
“I’m not fighting in any war!” Mark dug the tip of the sword into the soft wood of the church floor.
“I’ll explain it to you quick. Heaven and hell have longed to control the mortal plains, but unfortunately for both sides, the Angel Wars nearly wiped out their forces. They’ve used the time they have had since then to rebuild their armies, using that whole ‘be good and go to heaven, be bad and go to hell’ philosophy. Those that sinned sunk down to hell, not to be tortured, but to fight for the Devil. Do you get me so far?”
Mark nodded slowly, everything seeming to make the slightest bit of sense to him.
“Among all this, there’s Lucifer. Of course you probably think of him as the Devil himself… but he is far from it. During the time of the wars, Lucifer was conned into the battle by the Devil… having been told that God sought only to get rid of him. As you know, any of those that opposed the lord were sent down to hell… Lucifer included.”
“So… Lucifer and the Devil are not the same… thing?” Mark’s eyebrow rose.
“Not in the least. In fact, after Lucifer learned of the Devil’s betrayal to the Almighty, he grew angered and sought to exact revenge, for the Devil was the reason he was bound to hell.” The demon pushed off of the wall and placed his hand to the wound on his stomach, which almost instantly dissipated. “Amidst his anger, Lucifer sent Beelzebub to the mortal plain to seduce several women into going back to his ‘homeland’ with him. Under the pressure of sexuality, the women agreed, and never saw their mortal lands again.”
“Why do you tell me of his sexual pleasures?”
“They weren’t for sexual pleasure. He was to use them to create a breed of human-demon hybrids. These hybrids were to be sent back to the mortal plain to be watched over by mortals, who would raise them until they were needed.”
“Are you saying that I…” Mark broke off, looking down to the ground.
“Yes… you are one of them.”
Mark looked up at the demon. “You said that you were me… so how do I know all of this?”
“I lied… I’m not really you. I figured it would be the best way to get you to not cut my head off.”
“Who are you then?”
The demon lifted his sword, mounting it on his back again. Arching his back, two deathly looking wings sprouted from behind him. With a roll of his neck and a cracking of his knees, a bright red light surrounded him. “I am Lucifer.”
With a quick flash of light, Lucifer was gone, leaving Mark alone in the once again normal church.
“…This is fucked up beyond all belief…” Mark whispered to himself as he sat down and raced through his thoughts.
4/18/2003 10:51:15 AM
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