preternatural mind

March 10th, 2007 by

admin

The staccato rhythm followed the shade though the door and out into the alleyway though the clubs emergency exit was barred shut behind the shade. The myriad vices of humanity were set forth upon fliers plastered to the door of the little dive Blonds Thai�s barely eighteen The world, this world in which the children of Seth lived and died had changed very little from the world in which he had lived� in ages past scarlet had denoted houses off ill repute and on this bank and shoal? Nothing had really changed save for the means by which they marketed their charms. They sold their charms via digitalized devices that captured them in the act; the dance of seven veils was a thing of the past. Enticement had become even more wanton and vulgar. Rather than waiting at the well in the way of Tamar they haunted street corners and lavish hotel lobbies. Rather than servicing kings and tillers of the soil at the temple in the way of the Baal�s priestesses they plied their trade on the lowermost levels of gentlemen�s clubs, if they were exclusive. If not? Then they frequented lodges that rented space on an hourly basis. Many of them were akin to the temple harlots. Rather devoting their existence to an idol of burnished gold they lived for an idol that was as pale as fresh fallen snow; the stuff of damnation. Two pinpoints of scarlet lighted the overshadowing gloom of the alley, depthless bloody sinkholes within the darkness.

So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life. Hearing the zealot�s voice the shade halted dead in its tracks turning round to the mouth of the alleyway. It was littered with refuse. A greasy mustard besmeared cheeseburger wrapper tumbled past a discarded syringe and the bloated maggoty carcass of an aged and rather obese white cat. Their world was naught a rotting corpse, their wickedness and devotion to false idols had putrefied all things.

And what am I?

The shades preternatural mind wandered as eyes overflowing with blood fell upon the remains of the tragic animal. Maggots squirmed like pale baby snakes arising from out of a hundred succinct wombs of filth. With death comes life�. And I am naught but a maggot�as are they

The shades preternatural mind wandered as eyes overflowing with blood fell upon the remains of the tragic animal. Maggots squirmed like pale baby snakes arising from out of a hundred succinct wombs of filth. With death comes life�. And I am naught but a maggot�as are they

So much has been lost in translation Hearing him recount the words in a tongue that was never meant to proclaim them� it was� vulgar. His eyes locked upon the wretch the shade remained immobile a statuesque pillar of tenebrous shadow. He need only focus the heavy weight of ages of rage and anguish lost to his waking memories; preserved somatically, etched upon the iron of his blood� deed for deed.

�And she again bare his brother Abel. And Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller of the ground.�

It was not a flaming sword rather, it was something tenebrous, a blade of shadow�. Wickedly keen. He felt no pain. Yet in the blink of an eye, in the time it took his mind to conceive of the zealots demise, the tenebrous blade had cloves through him, the first cut was a superficial wound yet immediately thereafter iron within his blood and throughout his form was wrenched, physically torn by some unseen force from out of his finite being. In the blink of an eye he was naught but a puddle of off pink soup� some indistinguishable organic stew where moments before he had been a man caught up in the fervor of his drunken devotions.

The shades eyes lingered upon the pink stew as it bubbled like tepid porridge, lingered upon the remnants of this man until the soup grew cold and congealed like a blob of bacon grease. They were nothing to him; they were naught but chattel. Beasts like the ram he had butchered and consigned to the flames so long ago one of many burnt offerings. And suddenly the shade became a black wind, bridging the thirty yards betwixt the mouth of the alley and the clubs emergency exit in the blink of an eye. The door screeched upon rusted scarlet hinges, a discordant note filled the alley, more a scream than the sound of rusted iron whining, the corridor yawned outward a dark maw of shadow flush with the dirty walls of the offal strewn alley.

-Copyright Kevin Oldfield

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments »

Recent Posts

Categories

Blogroll

Archives

Meta:

preternatural mind