Friday,9th august 1936
And I saw a beast rising out of the sea having ten horns and seven heads;and on its horns were ten diadems,and on its heads were blasphemous names…
And the dragon gave it his power and his throne and great authority…
They worshipped the dragon,for he had given his authority to the beast,And the worshipped the beast,saying,
‘Who is like the beast,and who can fight against it?’
REVELATIONS 13:1-4 NRSV
19:21
Glimmering crystals fell like pins and needles,wear and tear to my already soiled clothes,like a not so soothing acupuncture.There was a cold numbness in my feet one that tried to command my attention.The stars stood in reverence as if prophesied for a child,they shone with glee and hubris like pointed spears at the ready fashioned to war as if commanding my attention.My feet protruded by kaleidoscopic stalactites for every leap and step of the dance,the game of snake and mouse of wolf and lamb, of man and life.The cacophony of glass,sonorous bullets in resonance with the great stampede of converging footsteps.As if commanding my attention.The air as sharp as stalactites,all so dissonant to me.All quiet.
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My mother tried to put on a brave front before me,we both knew better.War,such an unchanging facade,a battle of young for old,a battle of old for now.Where love of god had died long ago. Where the saints and sinners lay dead and the evil remains.Crows would flock in the many,cawing as if the sky’s the limit,encircling.Circling.Blocking the sun.The sky a fusillade of faces,each full of emotions like tragedy masks of Wrath,Melancholy,Greed,Disgust.One bullet wrung out through the air causing the crows to disperse at the murder,in a murder.She fell onto flowers pure as white phosphorus,outstretched in a field of asphodels.I cradled her gently laying her down.
“I will always love you,”She muttered,her eyes like an overflowing dam.I cradled her.One of the worst feelings is not sadness,happiness,hatred,envy.But it was the lack thereof.Worst than any schadenfreude.Null.
“Ori-”she was cut off by a second bullet .The blood oozed thickly,sickly like ink,old,unclean, senile industrial oil.A pool of sanguine meridian,lacking of sun or bright hue.She gagged on her own blood coughed,heaved and weaved,blood clotting on her cheeks like lumps of aged spoilt milk..I turned to where the bullet had come from.The devil came like a wolf on a fold.
A messianic like figure.Mephistopheles himself had been conjured from within greedy hearts of men…
“It had corkscrew horns.With a disposition that like the uzumaki or golden ratio.It had conically honed teeth,walking seamlessly between light and shadow,smiling enigmatically with benevolent semblance in host to his singular duality.It was smiling.Smiling with deep superiority circumvoluted in deep nihilistic heresy.It is the product of all colours place on a single canvas.
Vantablack.
Atramentous.
Godless.
When I had asked It how It felt.It muttered, “Hubris.”Blonde hair.Cerulean eyes.The crows cawed twice.It spoke no more.
