Sunday, December 28

Black Star

We follow the old laws.
An eye for an eye.
In his case, a life for a life.
Only, he was special. Different.
There had always been something about him.
A smell. A look. The shape of his face.
We follow the old ways.
We recognise the signs.
He was born to make trouble. To be trouble.
I was present at his birth, like I was present at the others'.
He was not like the others.
He did not cry. He would not make a sound.
He just stared.
Even I, who had seen so many children, shuddered.
That night, I made the blood sacrifice to our gods.
I looked into the fire to see his fate.
What I saw, I could not comprehend. That is when I knew.
He would be the end of us.
18 years later, I looked into those eyes.
Black. Blank. Cold. Lifeless, even in life.
He had killed.
That in itself was not unusual for us.
We follow the old rules.
Death was part of life. And killing was the instrument of death.
But.
He had not killed an equal.
He had not killed in a fight.
He had not killed to survive.
He had killed.
For pleasure.
We found her body easily enough.
I wish we had not.
He had done unspeakable things. Unnatural.
Only then had he allowed her to die.
The old laws, the old ways, the old rules had only one punishment.
But we would not shed his cursed blood on our earth.
So we bound him and took him to the solitary rock.
His death would not be a punishment.
It would be a sacrifice. To cleanse us. To cleanse the world.
But his depravity called for more.
So we chose the weakest one to accompany him as well.
On the rock, we lit the fire and made the first sacrifice.
An insignificant gesture with an insignificant man.
Then, he ran.
Evil spirits aided him. He was one of them, after all.
He was their king, I knew.
We gave chase over land and water.
Even though we knew it was futile.
Men don't capture demons. Demons capture men.
Suddenly, he stopped and turned around.
And I saw the image from the fire.
The ghost.
My fellow hunter died first. Quickly.
I chose to fight.
But my gods deserted me in the hour of need.
I heard the roar and the heat pierce my heart and I fell.
But I did not die. I could not die.
Not then. Not there.
He came up to where I lay, his lifeless, cold, blank, black eyes looking...
Through me.
Then he turned.
The ghost looked at him for a long time. 
He could not see what I could.
He did not know what I did.
That he was face to face with the devil.
As my breath ebbed away, my blood warming the sand, I saw them meet. 
Then the ghost spoke.

"I shall call you... 
Friday."

Song for the moment: The thing that should not be - Metallica  

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