Angels of torment twisted my spine into piercing beaks, sculpting my fleshy grave & burying me into wasted nothing, guilt escaped the meaty cage digging through with nails & the bloodshed ink soaked the scene like stained motel sheets, torn skin is wearing thin as it gets devoured by clutching claws, edging as the stricken birth releases a cloud of ravens that spreads like dead branches; color of coal coating a prostitute’s eyelashes, stiff but then those flags mock my snatched glittering remains with cross shaped crows that scatter like bullets clapping for the resurrection.
It was an exotic egg … Its shell is a gargantuan crimson gemstone, a very red ruby decorated with deep lines of gold and vivid emerald jewels. It sat peacefully between the burning flames, so precious and heavy. I was tempted with its beauty and mystery … What is inside? I want to see it crack in front of my eyes to please them like those wild nights I have.
I was hired personally by Lucifer himself and well I was the best thief in my country, no one has ever managed to overcome my brilliant schemes or even think like I do. I am proud to be chosen as one of his followers. Loyalty however is out of question, you can’t expect a thief to be loyal.
My master was proud enough to put me as his right hand to manage things in his castle which is located in the Bermuda Triangle. Ships of strong men have came to that forbidden area but have been concealed by the soldiers for they have not gained permission to pass. Sympathy was not an option and they all got killed except for those who can come in handy to spread evil.
I was lucky enough to survive between those thousands of dead men. It was my sinful hands that saved me from being dead. My job was exciting for I had the chance to be invisible and sweet talk in the ears of people who are tempted to steal and I have not participated in their awful crimes but I have suggested a few ideas and plans for them to follow. They had their option and free will so it is not I who must take the blame.
For every accomplishment I get rewarded with more wealth to carry and women. All I had ever wanted to have was that egg which was as crimson as my deeds and days, it was crimson like the blood boiling in my crimson heart. Those black and maroon flames of fire which I see are reflecting in my eyes for they hold all of my desires within its hot filthy embraces.
I am a weak human and a desperate one who is unworthy of trust. I betrayed the demon who took me in to raise me as his own son. I took place as a royal guard and he sat me next to him and gave me the honour of holding his sword. He spoke to me as a part of him which he is proud of and about me as an example to follow.
My best friend is a demon who can be summoned by the playing of any normal flute but there were specific notes to hit. That’s why songs are forbidden in the books of religion, each instrument is capable of calling in a demon. Their names were sounds of music. Some songs play those notes in your head to make this specific demon follow you around and fill your head with what it has as a duty.
This best friend had no good qualities about him. Not a single stroke of goodness has ever touched his heart. I’m not even sure he has one. I’m in love with his captivating sister though, she’s a mischievous siren who dances in human parties disguised to seduce and clutch men’s hearts to commit adultery.
I thought I have seen it all and lived it all but I yearned for that egg, the curiosity took away my sleep and occupied my thoughts leaving no place for new plans. I’m disappointing my master and colleagues these days too much and I might have been thrown to die if he hadn’t clutched to my days of glory in the stories he tells about my accomplishments and betrayal to my own kind.
I served in that place for a long time, I stopped counting a long time ago. I have an opportunity to escape every year yet I never take it. I’m too afraid to face my god and what I have done with my time. I don’t just carry my sins but also the sins of the many whom I have charmed. I’m taking my chances this year. They get locked up for a month, that special month of the year.
That month when they don’t do their duties, humans still sin. It is only a proof that you have to blame it on yourself. That month is my vacation where I spend it freely in some cold country until it finishes. When I have to return I touch my necklace which has the power to carry me from anywhere to anywhere in a blink and gets me recognised as one of them.
The necklace is gold, it has a thick chain with an eye as the symbol. The eye is hollow surrounded by diamonds and one is purposely missing and a hole is placed instead. The pupil has three circles of different hues of blue. The deepest one is the darkest and the most intense then surrounded by the colour of the sea then the colour of the sky. The pupil was alive, it was real fire that I carry on my neck.
I wore it with questions and acceptance. What is it really for? Is he watching me through that eye? What happens if I ever take it off? I sold my soul and I am a slave … To whom exactly? Could it be to the owner of this eye? Am I following Lucifer or the one eyed man who lives in the trapped island under the Bermuda Triangle along with that strange looking hairy creature?
The month is coming, my curiosity will end.
Do as I say.
Let’s go to play.
Cut that chicken man open.
This one has been chosen.
I have a craving for meat.
Get it done right now for me.
Don’t keep me on to wait.
Serve me a cold filthy plate.
They dragged him into the wet humid dungeon … It was cold, blue and darkness took over.
*Plop … Plop*
The Brick walls were growing heavy chains from their chests. He could barely breathe for the thick air barely moved and the smell of rotten corpses took over. He was surrounded by darkness to face a fading red light coming from behind that lonely black chair.
The door creaked then slammed then the sound of the movement of something slippery made the hair in his ears stand.
There he stood tall before the prisoner … A ten feet tall creature with the face of a handsome man.
In his human hands he held a glass and looked with eyes that were the source of this loathsome darkness.
*Throb Throb Throb* “Who are you …”
“Who am I?” He raised his proud head and looked at him with pity from under his nose.
“He is The Lord, our master, the king of hell and he came to guide us all!”
That answer came with a hammer dropped on Luke’s head with a spit from that ugly slave.
Blood ran but it was not as thick and nasty as that saliva was.
“What are these creatures? Why am I here?” Thought Luke.
“You’re here because I want you to be here.” Said The Lord with indifference.
Then, he slithered with his long wide lower half on the floor and his spiky legs crawled along slowly. The slime looked earthy, poisonous and diseased. He looked at that chair giving Luke his back which had a spine that showed itself … It was hard, divided and brown like crispy shells.
“Do you feel it Luke? The chill … The urge and need to itch? You think I’m repulsive don’t you? I exist Luke … I’m real … I’m here … Imagine me … I live in the corners of your head.”
“What is it you want?”
“I want my sucking mouths to kiss you and suck your fluids out you balloon.”
“You only have one! I believe you have a human in you …”
“I have many under me connected to my stomach … Do you want to see?”
“My lord has asked you a question you puny human!”
“Look into my eyes … Do you see death? Look into my mouth … Do you see the greed? Look at my spiky legs … Look at my spine … Look at my stomach … Look at my delicious slime. Look at me. What do I want? I can not go out in public now … I need eyes out there to see and a mouth to tell me.”
“You want me a spy?”
“Yessssss … Yes. I need a snake.”
“Is that what you are?”
“I am many things … Your worst nightmare is one.”
“You see that throne over there? That’s all mine now. I had to take it by force.”
“If I work for you … ”
“You do not work for me, you pathetic skin tissue … You are my slave and I command you to do.”
“Yes … I will … I will … I .. I promise.”
The Lord looked into his eyes with his sharp ones and smiled in ridicule.
“How amusing …”
“I will keep you here for days so you can taste the price of thinking about betraying me. The eye of Satan will be watching you … It will be the guardian and my slaves here will welcome you with whips, hammers, forks and you will dress in the neck torturer … You may only absorb your sweat.”
“Master! Please don’t leave me without food!”
“Well, it is your sin … You may only have pomegranate seeds.”
“Thank you my lord … Master … What is my mission?”
“It’s just one … You will know, do not rush. I intend to take over slowly.”
“What if … What if I fail?”
“It is alright … Then you only become my meal. I want you to disappoint me.”
Dead bodies fell from the sky like sweet rain would into the salty sea and the African orange peeks from behind the blues. It takes brave men to sacrifice themselves in unnecessary wars and it takes brave artists to admit that sometimes inspiration comes from the worst murders like this mass suicide.
A man in the horizon is crying, he has hair of waves and his lazy eye is the sun. Women in black and men in white went marching in lines through the thick water towards the sun to melt, to blend and to be.
If I can only stop to admire how beautiful this breathtaking horror looks but time does not exist anymore and that’s a shame. My sins are here for everyone to see as a carpet of red roses, and they scream as I walk on them and their blood flows underneath my feet to wash away, to wash off and to wash down.
The blind ones were lost between the giant swords, black feathers folded their eyes for us to know them and they danced on the sounds of the piano that played on our nerves, the generous man gave away his eye to the blind for them to feel fear again.
The Fire forced her presence and Arabian horses were born out from that fire to fly and take the children far away to their awaiting destinies beyond this pathetic life to start a new beginning with new ways to die for them to look forward to.
Great voices of echoes were spreading rumours about the naked sorrow in the grand theatre of life. Mirrors were surrounding us … Our stained truth was surrounding us. We only wore masks that were glued to our faces and they were torn off along with our faces but it was not an act at all.
Witches are never born witches, it’s a choice. It’s not what they tell you in children’s stories … They don’t fly on brooms or have talking cats and they don’t have large pimples on their green noses and there are no good witches. The scariest thing is that they look like us and live normally between us and we see them around everyday.
The hair saloon I go to has female workers who are witches. They make sacrifices with chickens that they put in a sink every week, they put special food for their spirits on a little chair in the corner and use sticks of “Bakhour” it’s some kind of smoke that they use to summon spirits for they believe that they bless their jobs and give them success.
I know twins who work in a mall near my house, they look exactly the same and they’re both blind too. One of them sells pastries that he makes and he puts different potions in every kind. There’s the love me pastry, the hate her, the good marriage donuts, the cupcake of destruction.
Normal people think that they’re random names but they’re not. Nothing is random in this world and everything has a plan, a purpose and intentions … This scares me because you never know what those intentions are.
The second twin is an artist. He draws talismans, hidden sigils and Arabian letters in his paintings that form a demon’s name. Special orders for special customers and the more special the order is the more expensive it becomes. It’s all wicked spells and he hides them in the portrait’s eyes mostly whether it’s a hawk or a woman. Each symbol has a meaning and a job to do and he is a an artist on demand. The women love him, his women are loyal to him for they have never ending jealousy.
Old ladies that seem weak and friendly are in their houses with jars, pots and a room to invite them in. A cupboard filled with torn pages of religious books, black animals parts and blood. They just need pictures to do their jobs whether to break up a holy marriage or to put lust in someone’s heart towards the person who pays the money for the job and they call this a love potion. In the old times they needed a whole hair pulled out from the root to harm someone but now it’s all easy that they can just take a picture from Facebook. Women come and go with lots of money to spend.
Those fortune tellers you see … They have their demons around them and they talk to your demon to know what they want to know about you. Then they go to the sky and try to eavesdrop to know about your future until they get hit by lightening.
Most of those humans you see … They did ugly nasty things. They have to do a prayer for Satan before they start. They killed, they went to dig up corpses from their graves to stuff things into their throats. They pee on holy books and drink blood to please the devil. They performed black magic on other people and misguided them into the path of sins.
Each demon has a specific task to do, there’s a demon for divorce, a demon for lust, a demon to spread hatred, a demon who whispers in the ear of a man to seduce him to do terrible things … They all report back to Lucifer. Divorce is what pleases him the most.
There are kings, ministers, soldiers and servants; just like us. They live in ruins, in the bottom of seas, between things like on the staircases and near the doors. They love contradictions so they build castles on top of where the salty water meets the sweet or on where the warm water meets the cold, between shades and light. Some of them live in houses too, they’re called Ammar.
You know what scares me most? It’s that the demonic spirits think highly of themselves, they won’t do you a favour unless you do one for them first. This leaves me in wonder … What is it that they want a human to do for them? How far did these people go to get what they want?
You know why planes and ships disappear in Bermuda’s triangle? You don’t need me to tell you who lives there.
You’ve never felt their presence? You’ve never felt that someone is watching you?
You may not know any of witches or demons but I can tell you for sure that lots of them know you very well.
What if you find a book that has all of the answers that you don’t want to know? Would you dare to read? What if then the way you see the world changes? Will you start to see people changing their skins? Will you see your chains which are made of humiliation?
Will you be inside a cage and its key is with a master of your fears? Will you even try to break free? A slave you are, a slave you will be when it falls into the hand of another slave for it is his only chance to switch. Will your blanket shrink then and stop covering your cold feet?
Never mind, you know what is scarier? If the answers were for Yes or No questions and all of them were Yeses. Now, after you read, a mighty door will open before you and strong white light comes out, will you go in or do you fear the light now?