Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Finally: Chapter 2: The Letter

Maggie:

You aren’t going to understand much of this, but I need to tell someone else, and you are the only person I can trust. Please pass this on to a lawyer, maybe my parents as well, because this is also my last will and testament.

You get all my stuff. I want to be cremated and have my ashes spread in Red Rock Canyon, somewhere near Overlook Point. I don’t care what needs to be done, but please make sure this happens. Oh, and tell my parents I’m sorry for the nightmare I’ve put them through during my lifetime.

Like I had said, this isn’t going to be easy to understand, and it’s gonna sound almost insane, but you have to trust me. And I promise to you with whatever soul I have left that I am not on drugs. I promise you!

Ok, here goes…

Lucifer is real. He’s fucking real, and he’s a cold, calculating bastard. For whatever reason, he found me, and I really don’t understand why he chose me as the schmuck to tell his grand plan to. I’d say he was drunk, but do Fallen Angels get drunk? Do demons drink? If I had time, I’d ask the philosophers, or maybe the Pope, but I don’t. Maybe you can look into it.

I was at the Double Down Saloon last Monday. You know the place, I’m sure. It’s really close to the Hard Rock Hotel. It has some cool art, and the Bacon Martini. Go there if you haven’t yet.

Anyways, the Monday night football game had just ended. The bar started to empty out a touch, but I wasn’t ready to leave yet. I ordered another Bud Light and stepped outside the backdoor of the joint to have a smoke.

So I’m standing there, trying to light my God damn cigarette, and he walks out from the dark alleyway.

I gotta give Lucifer some credit. The fucker has amazing fashion sense. He was wearing this really old suit, and a fedora. He reminded me of a mobster from the 1930’s, like Al Capone, but more sinister. He’s also huge. He has to be close to 6 foot 5 inches. The combination of a huge guy in a mobster suit and fedora, and the five beers I had downed during the evening, had me a little scared. At the time I didn’t know it was the Prince of Darkness himself, but I knew this wasn’t a normal person.

And then he started to talk. He knew my name. He knew my name!

“I knew I’d find you here, Slaton,” he said.

“Who are you, and how the fuck do you know my name?” I asked him. Lucifer smiled. He’s got a crooked smile, by the way.

“I have many names, given to me by many people for many years. You can call me Lucifer. I think that name might ring a bell with you.”

“No,” I kinda chuckled. “You don’t exist. You’re from a really shitty story.”

So then he laughs. “True, it is a shitty story, and completely false. I’m not here to discuss the historical relevance of the ‘Holy’ Bible.” He took off his fedora and walked towards me. I tried to back away from him, but had nowhere to go. Trapped like a fucking rat. “I’m here, because I have chosen you as the recipient of a gift. You understand the darker side of humanity more than most, so please to enjoy, the end of all things.” Then, faster than humanly possible, he grabbed my head before I could do anything to stop him.

He commanded me to look into his eyes. Did I have a choice? It’s Satan, for shit’s sake! I was scared as Hell at this point, so I stared into those dark eyes, as black as…well, I can’t think of anything that isn’t a cliché, but they were dark.

And I was given a vision of things to come, of the end, but not it’s not like people think.

The Antichrist won’t be a seven-headed beast with thirteen horns, like the Bible says. He will be a smooth, calculating, and cunning bastard whose personality will ooze inspiration in those around him to form together and take on the rest of humanity. He is essentially a puppet, fully controlled by Lucifer. He will at first use the flag of peace to rally nations behind his cause, and destroy nations who do not give in to his plans.

At the same time, natural disasters will occur. All of the recent tsunamis were a test by Lucifer to see if he has the power to create such disasters.

The vision I was given started with these plans, a simple outline to the end of the world. Lucifer plans to use the Antichrist, along with his powers to destroy the earth as he sees fit to sow chaos. He has no other purpose. He has no motive aside from chaos and anarchy, and from the vision I witnessed, the Rapture is one-sided. God or Jesus will not intervene, despite humans pleas for help.

After the vision was over, I fell to the ground, crying like a little bitch. Lucifer smiled down at me, and handed me a handkerchief with “555” engraved on a corner. I whimpered and sniffed for a few minutes, while Lucifer hummed “Raindrops keep falling on my head,” and lit a cigar.

I thanked him for the handkerchief and asked why it had 555 on it while I regained some composure. He snorted.

“It’s no more random than the 666 mark of the beast bullshit,” he said, moving his cigar around in his mouth. “I also got a discount if I printed fifty of them. Gotta save money where I can, right?” He laughed, took another drag, and continued.

“John was a bitch, and high as a fucking kite when he wrote Revelation. Nothing works better than a bad shroom trip to take an already paranoid mind and throw it over the edge into full blown hysteria.” He paused to take another drag. “He did a better job writing that chapter than I ever could have imagined. What a fitting end to a book where God and Jesus forgive everyone for their sins. And the seven-headed thing with thirteen horns, which is supposed to represent the Antichrist? That’s astronomically awesome, in my opinion.” He put out his cigar on the ground, and picked me up off the ground, patted my shoulder and smiled again. “Now, go do what you must. I will be keeping an eye on you.” And he walked out of the alley.

It has been days since that vision, and I have not seen him since.

I don’t know when it will start, and I don’t know who the Antichrist will be. I don’t know if Lucifer can be stopped, or if his plan has already started. I still don’t understand why he showed me what he did, but it has left me scarred. Horrendous images flooded my head, the Mormon Temple in Salt Lake City erupting in flames, humans filled with rage, lustily screaming in ecstasy as they shoot and stab other humans in the name of the Antichrist, mountains trembling and falling on cities, rivers running red with blood: these images I cannot get out of my head. I so desperately want them to stop, and sadly the only way I can think to end them is to kill myself. If Hell is real, I’m already going there, so it doesn’t make much of a difference.

Please pass this on to those who need to know. Give it to religious leaders, to political leaders, newspapers, anyone who needs to-

Fuck, he’s here. I have to end this now while he’s distracted.

Listen Maggie, I love you, and I hope you survive what’s coming, or die quickly when it starts. Tell my family I’m sorry. Please make sure you tell them!

Slaton

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