Ok, so I lied

Chapter three will be posted sometime this week, as I am very unhappy with the intro to the chapter. I may re-write the whole thing, or at least a portion of it.

I guess the downside to posting these things on my blog is the desire to do the chapters in succession so there is no confusion. Then again I may finish chapter 4 and decide it fits better than chapter three when it comes to order.

Whatever. I still have more to write, and the Steelers are now only down by 4. Ha!

Until later this week...

Gus

Editing chapter three..

So that should be posted this weekend. Yay!

For now, I have a surprise. The entire introduction, edited and re-worked a bit. I think it works better.

Enjoy!

Daniel could smell him. The musty scent of age and decay mixed with something sweet –cloves perhaps- mingled down the hallway into his room, viciously potent and alarming.

It didn’t hit Daniel immediately, however.

He was busy working on something important, something revolutionary. Muse blared loudly through his computer speakers; a cigarette dangled from his chapped lips, ashes falling into his lap and keyboard, stinging his hands slightly; his phone sat next to his keyboard, beeping at him like a cat desperately whining for fresh cat food. Empty Funyon bags and half-empty Mountain Dew cans sat precariously on the edge of his particle board desk, waiting for the slightest shake to spill their contents onto the messy floor. His Oregon Trail “You have died of Dysentery” t-shirt that stuck to his skinny frame was stained with ash and Mountain Dew. Time and personal hygiene had become a blur to him as he feverishly typed his letter of warning, of prophecy, and an apology, to the world.

He hadn’t realized what time it was, and was shocked as he looked out his window to discover it was night time. How many days had passed since he started his letter? What day was it? He hadn’t gone to work in days. Had anyone even noticed his sudden status change from human to hermit?

If it was a Friday night, he would have been in a bar, with friends. If it was Saturday, he should have been at one of the local casinos in Las Vegas, gambling away his meager bonus money from his mediocre job. Any other night and Daniel might have been watching Simpson reruns, maybe masturbating to internet pornography, drinking whiskey until he was buzzed enough to go to sleep. Daniel enjoyed his simplistic life, was happy with what he had accomplished, especially when looking back at his past and how far he had come.

Then he had to show up, and cause everything to swirl into an abyssal nightmare.

It doesn’t matter anymore, Daniel thought to himself as he took a brief moment to rub his green-gray eyes, and pushed his messy blonde hair back from his brow. I’m almost done. A couple finishing touches, and I can end all of this. In the background, the radio seemed to prophesize his current state:

Is our secret safe tonight
and are we out of sight
Or will our world come tumbling down?
Will they find our hiding place
is this our last embrace
or will the walls start caving in?

Then, at that moment, the potent smell, frightening and familiar, finally broke through his impenetrable wall of motive. Daniel went pale, as pale as Casper.

He is here, Daniel panicked. What the fuck is he doing here? Not yet! I’m not finished! I wasn’t expecting him so fast! Daniel stood up quickly, and went to close the door to his room.

A shoe managed to jam its way between the frame and door. A classic British wingtip, made with aged leather that was faded gray, jutted its unwanted presence into Daniel’s room.

“Commendable,” growled the voice behind the shoe, “but it won’t do you any good,” Daniel had always thought the voice sounded like Morgan Freeman, if he had spent an eternity smoking cigarettes.

No, no no no no! Dejected, Daniel opened the door, allowing his full vision of the person behind the shoe.

A large man, around 6 ft 3 inches tall, filled out the entirety of his suit with a muscular frame. The suit was classic wool that, like the shoes, was faded gray with age. It was almost impossible to gauge how old the suit was with just one look. Daniel got the image of a tailor in England, in the late 1800’s, working on the fabric, sewing on the three buttons for the jacket with delicate skill.

An impeccable white button up shirt was matched with a blood red tie. Daniel could swear that in the right light, or right environment, he could see a smiley face shimmer on the tie. A white handkerchief, folded neatly into the breast pocket, managed to show the tip of a symbol, but it was too tucked in to see it all. Daniel could almost see the start of the symbol for Anarchy, but that was only a guess.

The last detail on the suit were the New York Yankees cufflinks, aged like the rest of the suit, an old gold and pearl-white.

The man wore a fedora, with a red ribbon. Under the hat, long brown hair was neatly pulled back into a braid.

His eyes, those eyes, are what scared Daniel the most, black as night, as black as they get, with constantly angry, arched eyebrows that sheared away any thoughts of ever pissing off this man.

His nose was slightly forked, with nostrils that flared when he spoke, lips that always seemed to be on the edge of sneering.

And the scar! Razor-thin and running from one small ear to the next, along his cheekbones, right under his eyes and across the bridge of his nose, it startled Daniel with its brilliant, violent red sheen. It looked like a fresh wound days ago when Daniel met him, and it looked that way still.

Today he was clean shaven, Daniel noticed, and shuddered as the man walked into his room. The man contemptuously sighed as he looked around the filthy room, and sat down on Daniel’s full size bed that had no bottom sheet on it. Daniel dejectedly took a seat in his computer chair, and prepared for the worst.

The man stared at Daniel for what felt like an eternity, the dark eyes boring with a burning intensity that Daniel had never felt before. Daniel wanted to turn away in terror, but he knew what was at stake. Weakness wasn’t something he could afford to show with this man, so he stared right back, finding courage in some hidden part of his psyche he never knew existed until that moment. A new song blared into the fray, breaking the silence:

My blood is bruised and borrowed. You thieving bastards.
You have turned my blood cold and bitter,
beat my compassion black and blue.

Finally, Daniel spoke, breaking the staring contest.

“What do you want?” he bitterly asked.

The well-dressed man let out a small chuckle, and winked at Daniel, the tension gone from his eyes. “Oh, I just happened to be in the neighborhood. You have some funny neighbors. Did you know that Mrs. Jensen down the street is committing adultery with two men at the same time right now, while her 2-year old dreams of chocolate fountains, and her husband is away on a business trip? Three houses down, John Robbins has a meth lab in his garage.” He stopped for a moment and pulled out a very large hand-wrapped cigar from a jacket pocket, lit it with a sterling silver Zippo lighter, let loose with a satisfactory sigh, and continued. “Here we are, in a perfect storyboard middle class suburban American neighborhood, and you have horrible things happening everywhere you look! I mean, you can’t make that shit up. It’s classic!” He blew out a ring of smoke at Daniel, and started to laugh earnestly.

“If you came here to have a discussion on middle class American life, you can just leave right now,” Daniel muttered. “I already know the world is blind to its own hypocritical nature when it comes to good and evil.”

“You’re right! I’m not here to have that discussion with you, at least not yet. We are on the same page, same wavelength on that topic anyways, last I knew. In all honesty I wanted to check in, see how you were doing since I dropped that metaphorical mental anvil on your head. Somehow I doubt you immediately stood up seconds later, chasing after the Roadrunner again with Acme products meant to foil the Roadrunner’s propensity with escaping over and over again, eh?” He looked over Daniel, eying the mess on his desk and the filth on his t-shirt. “I’ve seen you in worse shape though. I love that t-shirt, by the way.”

“Thanks. It was a gift from a friend.”

“Hopefully a cute girl, a friend with benefits, right?” The man winked, smoke pouring from his mouth as he chuckled.

“Can I ask you a question, Little Horn?” Daniel asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Nice reference to the old name,” Lucifer smiled. “You must have picked up a Bible after I gave you my spiel. It depends on the question, I suppose.”

“What if your plan fails? What if divine intervention ruins your whole plan?”

Lucifer looked at Daniel, a touch of intensity swirling in his eyes again. “A fair question to ask, and I’ll answer what I can. There will be no divine intervention, and even if there is, do you really think something I have been planning for nearly two thousand years, pondering and postulating over every hole, no matter how small, that I wouldn’t have a solution for any problems that arise?”

“But according to the Bible-“

“The Bible is bullshit,” Lucifer spit on the ground and grimaced. “Never assume anything written by humans would be the true word of God, or of Jesus Christ, or even my own autobiography. Christ, humans writing the word of God is like Fox News claiming to be a network that reports news: full of tripe, entertainment in place of actual news, factual errors all over the damn place.”

“I always assumed Fox News was your move,” Daniel joked.

“I’d like to claim credit for it,” Lucifer chuckled. “That wasn’t my work though. Something to be said about that when I can’t claim credit to that particular evil deed, though Rupert Murdoch and I are close friends. We play poker a couple times a year. I swear that Aussie fucker cheats somehow, always has an ace up his sleeve. I’ll figure out how soon enough.”

“So you assume we won’t fight back, or is that just a part of your grand plan, to grind humanity into extinction? We will fight back. We will never give up.”

“Of course, some of you won’t. The rest will be praying to God to save them, and some of your kind will be making deals with my peons to spare their lives. You know this is the truth.”

“I can’t believe that. Humans have always stood on the side of good in most situations. We won’t stand for anyone making deals with you. We understand there is a hard line in the sand between good and evil, and we know not to cross that line when it appears.”

“No, you’re wrong,” Lucifer replied as he shook his head. “Most humans look at the line, and wonder how far can they cross the line and get away with it, then rationalize their actions in order to keep living in sin and not feel guilty about any of it. Do you understand the difference, Daniel? It’s fucking pathetic, is what it is. Every time a sin goes unpunished, or is ignored, you humans tolerate it and move onto your video games, and your shitty reality tv shows to shield yourselves from the truth; humanity is hypocritical when it comes to cleansing its own filth. You have created your own version of Hell on earth thanks to your ignorance and arrogance.” Lucifer paused and took another drag from his cigar. “Meanwhile, the universe moves on, not caring one iota about the happenings of humanity.” Another puff of smoke, and he grinned. “Men are nothing more than a Godforsaken speck on the universal timeline, a small zit on the universes’ chin.” Lucifer sat up slightly and leaned towards Daniel. “Come closer, I have a secret to tell you.”

Daniel shook his head. “No. You’ve already told me enough. You’ve already broken me down enough at it is, and I don’t care about your philosophi-“

“Come here, you worthless meatsack,” Lucifer interrupted, practically hissing the words as his eyes glinted dangerously. Daniel had no choice, and got out of his chair, wondering if these were his last seconds on earth. Lucifer licked his lips, and placed his mouth inches away from Daniel’s ear. Putrid hot breath, smelling of tobacco and a hint of cloves blended into Daniel’s senses, intoxicating him.

“you, you… humans,” growled Lucifer, “have been abandoned by God. He has left you and your pathetic kind to find your own way through the universe. Do you understand? His greatest mistake was to create humans in His own likeness, and that vain fucker couldn’t accept to look into the mirror He had created in humanity. He had such high hopes for His creation, but He never considered that He could be a flawed being. Killing in His name, raping in His name, destroying the planet by invoking His name; your actions created a reflection of His own consciousness; so he left. He is gone, left to go create bigger and better things, or at least He hopes. Humanity is alone, with nothing to stop me from doing whatever the fuck I want with your weak and insignificant race. You..are…alone…”

“You lie, Light-Bearer,” whispered Daniel as tears slowly began to trail down his unshaven cheeks. Lucifer leaned back, chuckling again, and stood up.

“Perhaps. I do tend to deceive when it suits my purpose,” Lucifer sardonically replied. “However, this is not one of those times.” He walked over to a Tool poster Daniel had splayed across his wall. “One of my favorite rock bands, these guys. They get it, the whole kit and caboodle.”

I have to finish, or at least send what I have done before he kills me, Daniel thought to himself. “Í have other posters of theirs in my closet,” he gestured as he wiped away tears and slowly made his way back to his computer desk.

“Hmm. Do you mind if I take a gander?” Lucifer asked.

“Do I have a choice of saying no?” Daniel sarcastically said.

“Ah, Yes,” Lucifer grinned, puffed from his cigar and walked over to Daniel’s closet. “Choice and free will are what caused a large portion of the predicament you humans will find yourselves in.” Lucifer started shuffled through the clothing, shoe boxes and old videogame machines in Daniel’s closet, searching for posters.

Now! Daniel quickly typed some remaining last words on his letter, typed in an email address on his Gmail, and hit send. I wish I had time to explain it all to her, but she’ll have to piece it together on her own. A great sense of relief washed over Daniel as he turned around to see Lucifer holding up a poster of a pig with a fork in it.

“Magnificent,” Lucifer quietly murmured as he rolled up the poster and tucked it under his right arm. He turned his attention back to Daniel, and sat back down on Daniel’s bed.

“So now what?” asked Daniel.

“Do you know why I showed you my plan?” Lucifer queried as he drew air into his cigar. “What would be my purpose of showing a human my masterpiece of design and function?”

“I was wondering about that, and as far as I can tell, there really isn’t a good reason.”

“Wrong again, my boy. A plan this magnificent, this perfect and chaotic needs an audience! You just happened to be walking by, and I thought to myself, ‘here’s a slob I can trust to understand his duty once I have given him his direction to go.’” He moved over to Daniel, and bent down to whisper in Daniel’s ear. “I know what it is you type on your computer. I chose you for this purpose because I know you are weak, and you have done what I had hoped you would do.” He backed off a bit and grinned. “I want the world to know, because humans must know in order for my plan to succeed. The Antichrist needs an audience, needs followers! Even if no one believes you, the word will begin to spread, and then-” Lucifer paused for dramatic effect, “-well, the rest of your race will have to see the wonders I have planned. Early reviews suggest it is better than Disney’s Main Street Electrical Parade, and more fiery than the volcano in front of the Mirage in Vegas.”

My God, Daniel thought to himself, this is part of his grand plan. He wanted me to spread the word. I am nothing but his tool to use… As recognition spread throughout Daniel’s thoughts, he started to sob.

“Father, forgive me,” he whispered.

“No, He won’t,” Lucifer deadpanned. “As I said, He no longer cares. The rest of this,” he gestured spreading his arms, “this world, is now a big playground for whatever the fuck I want to create. And I want Chaos!” He put out his cigar on Daniel’s bed, and pulled out a handgun with a silencer from his pocket.

I’ve done what I can. I just hope he doesn’t realize who I sent the letter to. A sense of peace, despite the threat of his impending death, flooded over Daniel.

“I am ready,” he said, and closed his eyes. Lucifer laughed again.

“I don’t need to kill you,” he pompously said. “You humans have done a brilliant job of doing that yourself since you were first created.” He set the gun next to Daniel, and patted him on his head. “You know what to do.”

Daniel looked at the gun. “Why put a silencer on it?”

Lucifer looked at Daniel with mock indignation. “What, and wake the neighbors? Always selfishly thinking of yourself, aren’t you?” He then gave a thumbs up to Daniel. “I’ll see you on the other side,” He said as he walked out of Daniel’s room.

Daniel picked up the gun. I have to do this. It’s too late for me. I have done what I can, he repeated to himself for a couple seconds. He put the gun in his mouth, turned off the safety, and put his finger to the trigger. Magdalene, and Mother, forgive me. He closed his eyes again, and pulled the trigger.

Lucifer could hear the thump of a silenced bullet entering Daniel’s skull as he walked down the hallway from Daniel’s bedroom. Down the hallway, Mathew Bellamy could be heard:

it's time we saw a miracle
come on it's time for something biblical
to pull us through
and pull us through
and this is the end
this is the end of the world

Lucifer chuckled again. “How fitting,” he mused, and walked out of Daniel’s home, into the darkness of night.

Fairly quiet

Been really busy with school, work, going to Pittsburgh for the Steelers game, etc.

And now that I finally have a free weekend to write a bit, I get a sore throat and cough.

Ugh.

Hopefully in the next few days I can put some more ideas down in concrete forms. Right now I have lots of ideas written down, and even some very general outlines.

Until then... keep looking towards the stars! Oh, and feel free to read one of my friend's blogs, Ragnarok Monkey. Most people won't get what he's writing, but it's entertaining nonetheless.

Speaking of stars..