[Vyvian Blackthorne]

Here is another one I wrote awhile back (unpublished like the previous one)

Crucifying Vincent (pt. 1)
THE cruelty lies just above their heads, and several tiredly bored boys on a lazy Sunday afternoon have nothing to do. The crow of the macabre told them noon was reaching, the brief amounts of light shaded into through the windows and onto their pale faces. They sit in their normal fashion, slanted, tired, with every possible idea open for grabs.
They wait.
They have names, Jonathon, Jackson, Anthony, Belle (still a boy, but a cockney boy) and of course, Vincent. Vincent, being his dim self, sat upside down by the couch. He was partially retarded and used only half of his brains (or, just the half that was working correctly). They were all in their mid preteens and all experiencing the morbid wonders of adolescence. Present they were at Vincent’s own house, he would practically be the host every time and cater for their every whim. He could fight back, when he would protest or do something incorrectly, they would yell at him. They, belonging to no culture except that of low-style white trash, Jonathon hatched an idea-knowing that Vincent’s family was highly religious.
And with religion, came a book called eeeoouuzziii
aaaaaa eouehioouuooooooo, also known as ZE BOOK. And what Jonathon knew that a man named Hey-Zeus was given the ultimate gift of life: torture.
He was placed on what they called a large cross (or back then, just two goddamn pieces of wood in the format of that) and nailed down with the largest of technology back in the time when Allah-knows-when. Of course, these concepts were perhaps true though no one could give a true answer but a ‘theory’. Jonathon never understood this entirely, though he thought that what was called in ZE BOOK titled ‘Crucifixion’ was a great way to express his love for Vincent (an obvious note of sarcasm).
“Hey guys,” he says.
There wait is no more.
At once, all of his friends darted out slowly to feed their lustful hunger of their friends’ knowledge. They gather, like a cult or tribe, they wait for his comments to unravel themselves.
This, time, Jackson was the one to speak up; saying his lines as they went through his head the second before:
“What is it, Jon?”
Jon answers, “I have a great idea for what we can do this afternoon.”
“We hav’e nuttin to do here on dis day, tis me, me man?” Belle said.
Anthony agreed, “Right, what the hell would cure our boredom?”
And he, Jon, the superior, answers in a Biblical and majestic way (imagining as if he’s Moses himself):
“We shall crucify Vincent!”
And they clap.
* * *
As noon approaches, he hangs on the wall, tied to the gigantic cross on his families’ gigantic cross (to which they prayed to each and every day). Vincent was stripped naked except for a white towel covering his groin area. His friends surrounded him. They were dressed each in robes (bathroom robes, except for Jackson, who wore a towel on his head) and held candles in there hands. Jonathon, the leader of the pack, confronts him on the cross with his face visible underneath the sheet. He held nails in his hands unlike the others. There was a hammer on his other hand, with blood somehow smeared on it. The blood was responsible for the killing of the cat (to which they were to sacrifice along with Vincent to feed the demonic hunger) who lay in front of him with the image of a mismanaged pentagram. Jon (now to be confirmed in the text as ‘the leader’) announced, “And now-it is TIME!”
One by one, they each lit the pentagram. The fire blazed in the flammable material (which was evidently, cocaine) and it lit the sacrifice to the creature to which they worshiped. The Leader knew that one day he would be saved by him, to eternal peace and happiness he would take him. For now, this was how they were to show their gratitude toward their loving God (or Bog).
However, something went terribly wrong.
The Leader stood on a foot stool to reach the cross; he placed a nail on the palm of his hand.
“What a-a-are you doing, J-J-Jon?” Vincent asked.
“Shut up. And refer to me as The Leader.”
Vincent felt the pain, the true agony and blackness impaled down to his paw. The blood splattered from the opening. Oozing down from the palm it dripped to the sacrifice’s mouth. The fire blazed. It blazed so much it burned The Leader. He felt the agony like Vincent had, who screamed in shrill pain.
The Leader fell down from the stool and into the fire, where his flesh began to melt and blaze like the furnace-material did. He did not scream. No, screaming was for those who did not structure themselves spiritually as he did. He had no fear. He burned continually into the fire and the cross, so large-it fell down from the position it stood and along with Vincent, led itself upside down, resembling the inverted cross.
The world was silenced at that horrific moment, the sacrifice was gone and Vincent lay there with his palm partially nailed to the cross. He stared in amazement as the fire and cocaine burst suddenly into smoke and then disintegrating into the darkness, the light shone from the windows-directing toward the exact cross itself. All of the children stared in shock as Vincent lay crucified onto the cross upside down. As the light shone on the cross, more smoke appeared; and in the mist spawned a deformed figure not promoted by the known world.
He saw it move, how it moved into the darkness from the shades of light entering the windows. He stared at it in horror, the child in the front (who is commonly known as Jackson) as Vincent stared in horror and bled to death, eternalizing peace. Vincent was dead, and Jackson did not know how to treat this creature. He poked it once, then twice with his finger. For a moment no sound was made, and then it gurgled a shrieking sound of horror and shrill terror. Jackson felt the sperms leap out of his body, spilling onto the floor with pride and arrogance. The creature (to what seemed to be a deformed blob) soaked them as if he were a sponge moving to attack its victims. Jackson’s pants fell down for no given reason; this homoerotic-like feeling aroused him. The creature made this.
Jackson exposed himself in front of the spawn; it puked a sticky and foamy material.
“What happened?” Jackson said. Yet there was no answer from anyone present in that room. With Vincent bled to death, everyone was left to foresee the scene of horror and beauty.
The creature moved in a limp manner, by the third hour it was (without a doubt) that the creature was the antichrist. The antichrist (in the form of a fetus) continued to vomit on each child’s feet, showing his appreciation for resurrecting him. Belle spoke up, finally.
“What will we do with it?”
Jackson replied, “I don’t know.”
“Perhaps we should just leave it outside, so it can dissolve into the air and disintegrate back to Hell,” Anthony said. Thus, this was their final and only option.