The Children of Lucifer

I lost interest in the world about the time that the realization of reality settled in. The process in which I became aware that our world was it. This was the end. Fantasies, creatures, magics, Gods, horrors, all of those things were complete and utter lies. We live in a world ruled by logic and anything illogical…just doesn’t exist. If something appears so, it’s only because technology has not yet advanced to the point of explaining it.

Anesthesia. The stuff they use in hospitals and dental officers? The only reason why you don’t pass out from pain and/or blood loss? Yeah, that stuff: it was only invented about 150 years ago. And today? We have fingernail-sized pills that can do the same thing, made for a fraction of a dollar each.

Just to give you some perspective.

I’d like some of those pills right now. I could almost taste them in my mouth; my eyes closed and I visualized myself on a beach-chair, in the desert. I’m not entirely sure why, but it was comforting, and I needed that right now. I sipped an Appletini, because I’m secure in my masculinity, hence the fancy trousers.

I was also, apparently, aware of how abstractly absurd such a thing may be, being the first person to consider the possibility that an apocalypse-scenario would be a bad thing. Sure, it might be fun at first, lootin’ and shootin’ anyone we feels like, but it’d eventually degrade. We’d be nothing, ‘cause there’d be nothing. Depending upon, of course, what the scenario consisted of.

If I had to give it a name, I’d call it a Hell Storm. You see, the world exists in a delicate balance with two other planes of existence. We are commonly referred to as Purgatorio. Paradiso is, as its name implies, Paradise. The Inferno is, of course, Hell. However, what we didn’t know, what nobody, again, but myself seemed to wonder…why is the devil a bad guy, if he’s watching over all the bad people? Why would the biggest villain in the universe be the warden of the jail?

I could never quite figure out the ending though. S’alright. Didn’t need to. It happened.

The war for Heaven was a fake. It was fraud: God and Lucifer made a pact, a deal of sorts. Lucifer would be given totally control and freedom over another plane of existence for the damned, but he would never be able to leave.

Eventually, Lucifer grew bored of torturing souls for eternity and convinced God to allow him over. Unfortunately for God, Lucifer became invisible to her sight while in Purgatorio. While on Earth, he charmed and conned his way all over, but most importantly, he fucked a lot of women. This part is important, because this part is where I come in.

Anyone who shares a bloodline with Lucifer is royalty, as far as the Inferno is concerned. On the day of the beginning of the end, all those who share his blood would inherit his power. It manifests differently for each person, and might even kill them if it reacts poorly. He said, “If you fight for me, I will give you a place beside me: you’re all my children.”

I never really had a family. I had one, but they were abusive: physically, mentally, and emotionally. No matter where we would go, trouble would be there to find us. When I was born, my family was evicted, and we lived inside a car for a year. Then, for several years we were supported by my father’s parents, and after that, things seemed fine…until we moved there.

It was in a place a bit north from here, on the primary road passing through, but also on the outskirts of about thirty acres of woods and swamps. My parents were fond of cats, and we always had kittens; problem was- kittens in our family like getting killed in unfortunate accidents. Just like the fish. Just like the dogs, chickens, and rabbits.

We also lived across the street from a halfway house. Every now and then, one of them would come over and bang around the doors and windows, pee on the car, and go home. Sometimes, one would come with a hatchet and threaten our trees. The police were useless, they couldn’t actually do anything, and they shrugged and told us to move.

My parents put me in catholic school, hoping that God would look down on us, but like the cops, God just shrugged and turned away. I look back at this whole period of my life and laugh. If only I knew what I know now. The school wasn’t so bad. I made a lot of friends, though none of them…every came to my house, I always went to theirs. I never questioned any of this though, but now…just, now it all makes sense.

In second grade, we had to join choir: everybody. Two semesters in, one of the priests took five of us to the basement, molested two, and was caught in the act by Zack, an older kid I had a boycrush on. The priest had gotten to Zack’s brother already and once he found out, there was only one thing to do. His dad was a cop, he’d understand: justice had to be served. He kicked us out before he did it, but I waited at the stairs, I watched him blow out that priest’s brains; the pedophile praying to God of all people for protection.

Some people just can’t handle the chaos in their head.

As I grew up, I never noticed, but I was uncannily…good. I was attractive, always fit, intelligent, but my life experiences made me pessimistic and dark. I drove people off just by looking at them. I was always expressionless, or must have always looked pissed. The alpha jocks always picked on me, more than likely sensing how big my cock was and felt the need to flap theirs around.

Like in highschool, when my “friend” tripped on DXM with me and took advantage of me in the night; after that, I’m pretty sure I’m not gay. I didn’t have a girlfriend until I got out of school, and even then, it was just one track wreck after another, well, until I found her. She was amazing…amazing…

Regardless, I’m beginning to babble, but it all is important. It’s relevant to this moment. The dead walk the earth, the fires of hell are a glowing, and this grisly reaper is about to start mowing.