Many years ago, when I was in active duty, my unit was deployed far away into the scorching desert. We came under heavy artillery fire seemingly out of nowhere. I remember laying on my back staring up at the sky watching the clouds move as blood chocked my last few struggling breaths. My comrade was sprawled on top of me pinning me down, lifeless, with his head resting near my left ear. I didn’t have the strength to push his deadweight off and see where my right leg use to be, but I could feel pain reassuring me to no doubt.
I was able to barely make out the words that should have been my last, “Please God!”. The clouds suddenly stopped moving and the noise all around ceased to a deafening silence. I felt a presence around me, ancient and overpowering. Its energy washed over me and commanded all attention of my thoughts forcing me to utter its name in a blood spitting gasp.
“Lucifer” I was barely able to make out.
Fear accompanied the utterance of that name in my mind, like a red carpet it proudly walked on to signify just how fucked you are when you’re in that presence. I was his already, and I could feel Hell welcoming me like a pack of dogs having fresh meat dangled in front of them.
The body of my dead comrade on top of me suddenly started to post his arms and slowly lift his face up eye to eye with me. What used to be green eyes were now black, a soulless pale face gazed at me, but I wasn’t staring at the soldier I use to know anymore. I was looking at the fallen angel himself, his presence fills your mind and strangles your thoughts into obedience and attention to him. He’ll only let you speak in his presence when he wants to hear you. His eyes stared into mine and studied my memories, like someone flipping through pages in a file folder.
His lips weren’t moving, but I could hear him in my head whispering, toying with me. He drank in my fear of the torment ahead of me like a fine aged wine, supplementing it with transplanted thoughts of misery and eternal torment.
“What a sad end to your story. Abandoned by your family as a child. Never loved by anyone. Nobody to remember you. How cruel God can be, don’t you think? I heard you call for father just now……so where is he?” The words hissed in my head as if coming from all directions.
His black eyes looked around and then back to me, his mouth curved into a slight grin.
“Maybe he is just busy. Would you like me to give him a call for you?”
He promised to make the pain stop if I would hear him out. Tears fell from my eyes as I was paralyzed with the ever-encroaching stings and reminders of a limb lost. I agreed, and when he snapped his fingers the pain stopped. When he spoke with his words this time, the hissing went away. It’s hard to put human words on the sound of his voice. The best way I can honestly describe it is that it carried a remnant of heaven and former glory, but it still had an underlying tone of the harshness of reality and indifference. This probably won’t make sense to anyone, you just had to be there to understand.
“Life has been unfair to you, hasn’t it? I smell no love in you, not a hint nor a tease. What if I told you I can change that? I can give you a life having worth lived, full of riches and treasures. You don’t have to die here today; you can live if you so will it.”
Lucifer unstrapped my combat helmet and stroked my hair in a gentle way. He then reached back and touched the stump where my leg had been.
“I was assuming you might want that back as well, consider it included. Now, those are your needs, let’s talk about mine, shall we? I have a little collection I have been making, a hobby so to speak. I won’t bore you with the details, but to complete this little project I need about 15 more pieces to my collection. That’s where you come in. I need someone with a specific skill set to work with. I believe I am looking at that someone right now.”
He took out a lighter and cigarette from his front pocket. He lit it and took a drag, then he put the butt in my mouth so I could have a drag. He was reading my mind exact. After he took another drag, he continued to speak.
“Life is all about choices Will, so here is your most important decision yet. You can take my offer and I will let you live. I will give you a life with worth and purpose. In return, you will help me gather my 15 pieces. If you decline, you will simply die as you were fated. You probably have a good idea by now that you’re coming with me in that case, and I most definitely would love to have you. I even have a room already picked out for you.”
He put the cigarette back in my mouth and let me have one more drag. He brought his lips to my ear and whispered, “Do we have a deal?”.
My thoughts pleaded to God and every angel my mind could think of, but any hope of heavens light was washed away by gut wrenching truth of reality. Prolongment was my only option if I didn’t want to face an eternity of unthinkable horror. I dreaded what I knew I would inevitably do, and cringed at the thought of what he would make me become.
“Yes” I said.
I remember seeing the clouds starting to move again, and a hand covering my eyes causing blackness to prevail. As soon as I opened them, I was in a bed inside sick bay. I had made it back to basecamp with no recollection of how I got there. Sweat poured down my body as I sat up hoping this was all just a dream. My right leg was in its proper place with no signs of harm or damage. The medic came in to tend to what injuries I did sustain. He filled me in on what had happened to my unit. Some asshole officer mixed the coordinates up when artillery fire was called, I was the only survivor.
My enlistment was up 2 months later, I opted to go back to civilian life. When the time came to go back home, I was able to grab the last shuttle from the base to the airport that day. As the bus departed, the two soldiers next to me started gossiping away. One mentioned an artillery officer found with his throat slit, and his tongue nailed to his forehead. I chuckled when I heard this, and when the soldiers looked at me, I pretended to cough.
The first thing I did when I got back home was visit my favorite spot, a little park about 30 minutes away from my house. It had a pond in the middle surrounded by a walkway, I could have spent hours just enjoying the solitude. I listened to the old man behind me play the blues on his guitar. I always remembered him being here, even before I was deployed overseas. His white hair was vibrant against his dark skin. A young couple jogged passed me on the walkway.
I knew he was there when the silence hit, that unrelenting silence always marks his arrival. The blues music abruptly stopped, and the couple was frozen mid step of their running poise. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, the fear that accompanied his presence washed over me like trumpets announcing the arrival. The world felt like it paused. I turned around to see the old man, eyes completely black, a slight grin on his lips as he looked at me. He motioned for me to come closer, I abided. He moved his hand in the gentlest of ease to stop me in my place, and with the same ease he pointed a finger at the female jogger and closed it into his fist. The girl immediately got on all fours, and ran like a dog at an intense speed.
She stopped in front of Lucifer and bowed her head before his feet. He motioned with his finger once more and she laid flat on her stomach with her arms stretched in front of her. Bones cracked and ligaments tore as her body contorted in a grotesque human chair, I had to turn my head to keep from vomiting. When I turned my head back, I saw her head positioned at the front of the seat. It would have been pretty close to my crotch if I sat in it. Her mouth was wide open.
“Care to sit?”
“Uhm, I think I’ll stand, thank you though.” I stuttered in fear.
“I think…you should sit.” He motioned with his hand to the demonic cathedra.
I sat not wanting the same fate.
“That’s a good boy. Now let us go over some minor details, and I will let you get to work.” Lucifer said.
He put a red leather-bound book in my hand when he was done explaining the terms. He snapped his fingers, and everything went back as it was. The old man played his guitar, and no signs of damage on the girl as she appeared to be next to her boyfriend running.
The way the red book worked was simple, once I was done with the current collection, the next would appear in detail in the following pages of the book, if I lost the book then “I was fucked” in his exact words. Sometimes names were included, sometimes it was just a description of details giving me fair game on anyone within the standards. I wasn’t given a time limit, I just had to get it done…. preferably before I died or “I was fucked” in Lucifers own words. No hint was given if he actually knew my own expiration date, even so I probably wouldn’t have wanted to know.
Years passed from that point, and I became one hell of a collector, no pun intended. I was never left wanting for money. Assets and cash opportunities “coincidentally” happened to come my way; signs of a dark figure watching my back. Lucifer didn’t visit me after that day for a long time. Occasionally I would get the hint he was watching me after a collection from subtle hints, a red apple tree appearing on the side of the road, a crow coming to my window once in a while, or about ten birds hitting my windshield head on while driving. I assumed he was upset about #7 when the birds actually hit. 7 was the virgin, I had to use tinder to collect that piece. I made it quick and painless for her, but the next collection wasn’t showing up in the book. I thought back to the conversation in the park and remembered, anal sex cancelled out the virgin status, something Lucifer laughed at every time he stated it. “Harsh standards to make salvation” he had followed up with. #7 was the only one I had to re-do. I had misread the instructions the first time, sodomy after the collection. Lucky for me, no name was ever given for this piece, I shuddered to think what would have happened if I fucked up on a specific name wanted.
I hated everything that book instructed me to do, the acts grew increasingly heinous each progression. Fear was what kept me running through the tasks. Fear of a dark angel that could make my already sealed fate worse than what it was.
#14 was Yaza, an escort who fronted as a massage therapist. I had made an appointment to see her in her makeshift office location. I scoped the building well before it was time, I knew every camera location, every corner of the building. I was able to arrive at the location almost a ghost to any means of traceability. I remember when she opened the door, her brown eyes, dark skin, curvy body, she was beautiful, like an Egyptian goddess. I kept myself concentrated so I wouldn’t get distracted. I focused on how she had her purse in front of her when she greeted me at the front door, unzipped, she wanted quick reach to the pistol in there in case I got funny. I played along as she asked me a few questions, she had to make sure I wasn’t a cop.
All I needed was an arm’s reach, and she wouldn’t be breathing. I took off my shoes and unbuttoned my shirt from the top down, when she turned her back to reach for her cell phone, I asked her a random question to gauge whether she would answer by looking at me or continue what she was doing distracted by her phone while talking.
“What’s a pretty gal like yourself doing in this kind of work?” I asked
She stared at her phone with her back to me, my hand was on my blade ready for precision to the throat when she turned around to face me. She was out of arms reach of her purse, and I moved silently behind her, tip toeing, until I was in perfect reach.
“Because I have cancer.” She said with her back still to me.
Something inside forced me to stop. I paused, feeling confused and shocked. I moved back quick to my original position further away without her hearing me. My mouth was stuck open. Something in me connected with her when she uttered those words. Pictures flashed in my mind of her face in tears as she cut her hair off preparing for the chemo. I could see her falling to her knees in the doctor’s office hearing the diagnosis. I saw her clutching a picture of her mother, lying in her bed as she prayed in vain, not really believing but following the ritual hoping for a miracle.
“My regular job can’t cover the bills.”
She turned around and saw the tears coming down my eyes. I had never experienced this feeling before, all I wanted to do was protect her, I had no idea why. Every painful thought she had I could feel, her fear I could see, and I just wanted to tell her I could somehow make it all go away.
“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.” She said while rushing to get me a tissue.
I took a minute to compose myself and dry my eyes. I asked her to let me take her to dinner. I told her that was all I wanted from her, nothing more from her, no other services. She looked at me confused, probably partially thinking I was crazy. I pulled out cash, double what the session cost, and laid it on the massage table. I explained that I would understand if she was hesitant, but that I would wait outside for her for 20 minutes in case she wanted to go. I told her if she didn’t, it was no hard feelings, and I would just leave.
I never thought she would come out as I waited for her, but she did. I felt like my heart was on a roller coaster, excited and giddy just to have her company, I wasn’t used to this kind of feeling, but I liked it. It wasn’t the most ideal romantic start to a friendship, but it was a start none the less. She never knew how close she came to being in an obituary that night, but she didn’t need to. It was a choice I made, and I knew I would have to pay for it at some point down the road.
Over a year from that point, we were living together. I stayed right next to her through each treatment, I paid her medical bills and took care of her. I made it so she would never have to work. I promised her I would never judge her for what she had to do in the past. I remember that look of joy in her eyes when the doctor told us the cancer was in remission, I would have given anything to make sure that joy would never leave her. Every night she would fall asleep in my arms, and I would stare at the ceiling and wonder if heaven was similar to how I felt just being around her. I only had an idea of what love was before I met Yaza, but I never thought I would be able to give that idea a feeling.
Six months ago, I was driving Yaza from her favorite restaurant, it was our Sunday night thing. She was wearing a black draped split thigh dress; it fitted her beautifully. I told her I had a surprise for her back home, and she took her seatbelt off to lean over and kiss me, and that’s when the silence hit.
The unrelenting silence always marks his arrival. I stared forward clutching the steering wheel, lights of the cars in front of me illuminated in the darkness, but they were still, the entire world was still. I didn’t need to look over to know those once beautiful brown eyes were now black, and that her body was perched in the seat like some animal that could strike. A cold paralyzing fear washed over me, separating me from all the joyous moments I had experienced thus far. I closed my eyes and for once in my life, I prayed, not for me but for Yaza.
“William my love, did I ever tell you just how many dicks I sucked before you met me?” Lucifer said in Yaza’s voice to mock me.
I punched the steering wheel in front of me, but I dared not look over, I couldn’t. I kept telling myself it wasn’t her. I felt a cold hand run through my hair; my head spun like it was being ransacked as the cold fingers caressed me and slowly moved to my cheek. He was reading me, studying me like he was dissecting a frog for science class. There was an awkward silence after he took his hand away. When he spoke again, it was in his voice that I was all too familiar with.
“Ease your worries, I am not mad at all. In fact, you’ve done quite well. At the snap of my fingers, your contract will be paid in full.” Lucifer said
“Am I number 15?” I asked
“No.” He said
I turned my head in confusion. Lucifer was poised like a bird in Yaza’s body, the arms posted in the seat as they bent at the elbow, lowering the black eyes level to mine, never blinking. The small smirk never left those lips.
“Negligence is number 15. Negligence is you not paying attention to how many drinks you had at the bar. You always were a bit of a drunk when you had spare time. Negligence is not realizing you were swerving this car the past 5 miles. Negligence facilitated what will cause this car to go into oncoming traffic taking your precious Yaza, your negligent choices. Negligence was my insurance.” Lucifer said
Tears came down my eyes. It made sense to me all of a sudden what number 15 was, it raced through my head. I smashed my face on the steering wheel to fight the thought eating me, torturing me. My nose was broken, Lucifer saw this and put a hand on my shoulder, as if somehow that would make me feel better. He pulled my chin up to face him grabbing my hand. He guided my hand to touch Yaza’s stomach gently.
“I’ve been doing this for a very long time. And yes, maybe I did just a little bit of pre-planning. I prefer a guaranteed happy ending; Love was bound to make you a bit negligent. Negligent enough to sleep with a former prostitute without using a condom. Oh, how a miracle can grow if you catch my drift”.
“Please, don’t make me go through with this!” I screamed.
“If it makes you feel better, look at what I gave you. You didn’t even know what love was before I met you. You had no memories worth cherishing. Even your own father disowned you, and trust me, I can sympathize with what that feels like. Without cherished memories, you have nothing. I gave you a life worth having lived, and the kind of life you can hope for maybe again one day.”
“It doesn’t make me fucking feel any better!” I said as I punched the steering wheel.
If that doesn’t make you feel better, at least you weren’t negligent enough to lose the red book. I’d have ripped your limbs while making you watch Yaza get raped if that happened. It’s just my personal policy. Now I must be going but do take care of yourself out there. If you ever wish to do business again, I give repeat clients top priority.”
It happened all so fast when he snapped his fingers. The sound of crunching metal that followed still haunts me to this day. I lost everything in that wreck, everything that mattered to me. I was dazed and hurt from the wreck, but still functional. I was able to take limp over to Yaza’s body, it had been flung through the windshield on impact. I had the diamond ring in my pocket, the present I was going to give to her that night. I was going to ask her to marry me. I slipped the ring onto her lifeless finger and kissed her forehead for the last time. I hobbled away into the night, not knowing where I was going or what I was going to do at that point.
It’s been six months since that night, the conclusion of my dark business to one deal, but also the start to another. Once you do business with one dark entity, others tend to follow. You open yourself up like a gateway. My existence was no longer natural that day I took a deal to live when I was slated to die. I should be dead, but I live vulnerable to everything beyond holy, there is no sympathy from God coming to me anytime soon. Lucifer isn’t the worst you can run into, trust me, there are far worse.
There is a place for people like me, people who have done so many dark deeds that the future can only hold a sequence of dark fates. It’s called the sanctuary, a neutral point where one can find a certain existence that harbors the closest thing to a second chance a guy like me could ever hope for. It’s nothing pleasant, a Hell unto itself. It’s a kind of “El Rey” if you can understand what that means, if you do then we have the same taste in movies. What it offers is prolongment, and sometimes the prolongment itself may be the only relief I deserve, but it’s better than nothing. Inside that prolongment, maybe just the time to think about Yaza and what could have been might be all I will ever get, but if there was a way to find her or be with her, this is the only place that would be possible. That’s where I’m going, and I found out just exactly what is required to get in.
To anyone who has read up to this point, you are probably wondering why I would post this series of events that most would keep to themselves. There is a reason, and to the one reader I hope is seeing this, this is for you, an answer to the “why” you will ask yourself when you see me.
The requirements to get into the sanctuary are not so easy. It’s people with my skillset opting for acceptance, and they will put you to the test to see how serious you are. I have all the requirements needed except one in particular, and that last piece missing is a frequent reader to this forum.
I am posting this as a formal apology because I won’t have the time to explain anything once you meet me, in fact there will be no talking between us. As to the “why” you will wonder as you wake up paralyzed in your bed unable to move, it’s for my chance at that little bit of hope that Lucifer gave me.
The sanctuary requires someone with certain features, traits, personality and accomplishments; you just so happen to have them. What I will inject in you as you sleep will paralyze you, but it will also numb any pain you would normally feel. I’m not that cruel to make you feel what I have to do.
You will see me in the corner when you wake, but once again, you will not be able to move. You will be scared, that I can’t do anything about, so I apologize for that. You will see me lay out my instruments next to you, and I will begin taking what I need from you. You will be alive for a good portion of it, but by the time I get to your reproductive organs, you will most likely be dead, so no worries about that. What you give me will be preserved and taken to the induction committee for final acceptance. Nobody will find your remains as violated as they will be, I will make sure they are disposed of properly and never found, as I am quite good at this kind of thing.
I hope this gives you some kind of closure as to why it will happen to you, I am sure you will still be mad however, and I am sympathetic to that. Life is a bit unfair in my experience. I do have one thing to tell you that might give you something to look forward to. As you lay dying, you might feel as if the world has stopped, and everything is still. You might notice my eyes go black, being radiant even amongst the darkness that would normally cover them from sight. You might hear a hissing greeting in your head, or you might feel the cold touch of fingers through your hair. If that happens then you will no longer be looking at me. You will be looking at Lucifer himself, and he will most likely be willing to make a deal with you. If you harbor a grudge to me, maybe you can get him to include me on your task list you will inevitably get should you take his offer. It’s just something for you to think about.
I will see you soon.