Love (ending posted)

[cradle]

The thing dissapeared into the night after what had happened...That thing, was my own flesh and blood, that thing...was my child.

I felt horrible for letting him go. He wasn't the most adorable child, in fact, he was pretty damn ugly. Theres nothing worse that to see your own child leave your arms.

The moon was full, a faint mist covered what little sky was left by the dark grey clouds.
I had fallen for the wrong man, nine months after we met, I had that baby.
I remember the birth like it was yesterday. The baby was comming out, I remember shrp pains almost like knives peircing my cervix as the baby came out.
There it was, the baby, the creature. It had horns almost like a ram, and red, firey eyes.
It had the claws equipped to rip through steel. I knew then, that that man was satan, and this baby was the antichrist. I felt filthy, how could I not, I had just had satans child.
I realised then, that this love I felt for this man, was only seduction.

As I slept that night, I heard a scratching by the window, I got up to see what it was, only to find my child. It had evolved into something that looked man like in a way, humanoid almost, rumaging through my garbage.

"Oh Satan's child, why won't you leave?!"
It looked me in the eye. Suddenly I felt a strange compassion for this thing, this child.
Its skin had a light green hint to it now, almost white, but not quite.
It had grown a little too.
I didn't know what to do...I couldn't afford to take care of it.
I had to kill it, for my own good, for humanity's good.
I took it outside onto the hard concrete laid it upon the ground, and picked up a nearby brick. I raised it above my head, it looked me in the eye again, I dropped the brick filled with self hatred and affection for this creature.
I took it inside ind fed it the little food I had left.

We slept in the same bed, this loving existance with one another. As soon as I looked into it's eyes, I felt an overwhelming bond and love for it.

The moonlight shown a light blue and white across it's alabaster skin.

I felt a faint touch against my neck, I jumped in fright. I looked back, no one was there, I felt a strong sensation of evil come across the room. A faint green mist went over the room as the evil got stronger and stronger. Soon a man appeared by the window. It was him, satan.
I hadn't felt this evil when the baby was concieved. He looked like a straight edged buisness man, with slicked back hair, and black shoes.

"Just checking in on my son." He said.

"He's not your fucking son," I said nervously.

"then how do you expain the mark on his back?"

The mark was shaped in a pattern of sixes, almost something like you would see in the omen, only a little sloppier.

Satan had never shown me his true form, I had a feeling he would tonight.

"If you assist me in my uprising, You will be rewarded greatly." He said

"I already did." I said

"Oh but you can do so much more."

"I'm not doing shit." The anger grew more and more as I looked at his straight face.

"I think you are, I mean, you are taking care of my child, the antichrist. Keep him safe, He means the world to me."

a smirk went across his face as he said that, I hated him so much at that point.

He wanted me to bow down to him, kiss his feet, I wouldn't.
He spoke in some sort of dead language, biblical I'm guessing, but I wasn't sure. Terror struck over me, panic stricken muscles drew tight, the evil in the air got stronger.
He let out a howl as his white skin quickly turned grey and ashy, his nails once shiny were now sharp and gritty. His once white teeth turned black and grey. His wings grew in size and I could see the bat like veins spread like the fires of hell. A force blew off of him as he flew away through my window that broke the lightbulbs in my house. The evil went away, thoughts raced about my head. I wanted to die. I felt as if I needed to, so I didn't have to live through what I knew was comming, judgement day.

I knew this man was a devil, but I didn't know he was Satan.

The baby started talking in it's sleep, cursing about in...what sounded like latin.
Something inside me felt wrong, I didn't know what to do...I pondered about what to do about this baby. After thinking, trying to kill it was a bad idea, I mean I went through hell and back to have it, and it came out with horns and hooves.
I felt ashamed for that fact alone.

I couldn't sleep that night, mezmerised by the faint misty sheild inchanting the moons beams of light.

I saw the sun rise that morning, the dark grey clouds covering the earth in full shadows.
I looked upon the many shadows cast about the room, candlelight glistening about the walls.
The night was long and sleepless. Deep in my heart I felt dead to the light, dead to the senses.

The baby stopped eating food, I knew what he wanted, he wanted blood.
Human flesh is what he wanted. He made me feed him, I don't know what it was, but it gave me a sense of hypnotism, as if I was under the baby's control.

It started with graverobbing, so I didn"t have to kill in order to get what the baby wanted.
I waited untill late at night and drove my car to the nearest cemetary. I went all the way to the back, behind the overlapping weeping willows, I came to a fresh grave, one from that month.
I dug it up and pulled the body from the grave, put it in the car, and left unseen.

I took the body to the basement to dismember it, and feed the child. The child looked in awe as I started the chainsaw, and cut away at the body with prescision. What was left of the blood had been replaced with embalming fluid so it wasn't a mess, but what he wanted was blood, so I'de have to go fresher than that, I'de have to kill the people myself.


I waited in the alleyway for the first victim, I saw him comming from a mile away.
He was wearing a workers suit, something a mechanic would wear. His heavy steps could be heard on the empety night"s sidewalk. As he reached the alleyway I let my arm swing across his mouth, the clorophorm sweeping him away.
I dragged him into the car, and drove home.
I took another helpless victim into the basement to be dismembered.

I strapped him to the table, that's when he awoke, screams robbing souls like molesters robbing cradles. He struggled to find a way out of his death, I stood and watched him squirm. Madness filling my veins with a hatred for men...

I took out the bonesaw.

His eyes widened as he saw me take the first down his chest. I cut his ribs off as he was screaming bloody murder. I minimised the bleeding so he wouldn't die.
I then took his legs, and cut off the feet as blood spurted upon the walls. I gave the feet to my child. He took them as an appetizer.
He was beginning to becom light in the head, that is when I decided to do it.
I plunged my had to his chest, grabbed the heart, and ripped it out. I fed it to my child along with the legs as a main course, and for desert, the brain.



I woke up the next morning to alarms sounding down the block. I knew who it was, and in my condition, I couldn't run, I just laid in bed, waiting for the inevitable.
Around 5 minutes later they burst through the door screaming and waving their guns like madmen.

They cuffed me. I knew they'd find the baby in it's crib, so I didnt pay much mind to it.

15 YEARS LATER.

I was available for parole that day. I presented my case to them, it went well.
What they called my psychosis had been cured.
I was free.

The first thing I did was visit my son.
Being only 15 he had no idea of what powers he could unleash upon the earth. He no longer had the taste for human flesh, nor did he have the taste for human blood.
He'd been put in rehab for subtance abuse, heroine mainly.
He never talked.
So there we were, the antichrist and a former grave robber having lunch.

"So...." I said.
"So what?" he said.
"What happened to you while I was gone?"
He was still a little reluctant to speak.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Ok well then why in the world are you addicted to this shit?"
"Misery..."

From that one word, I could tell why he had done this to himself.
I could see in his eyes that he longed for a mother, a father, or even someone to talk to.

"The only friends I had ever had were in rehab, and even they didn't talk to me."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be, it's not your fault."
I knew inside that it was my fault.

"Why were you in prison?" He said.
"You'll learn later." I said.

I felt exited but at the same time flustered with thoughts and confusion.

"So where are you staying?" I said.

"Nowhere right now, I was living in and out of foster homes within the city. Then I ran away, got hooked on drugs, and I just got out of rehab a couple of days ago. They let me stay for the time being because they knew when you were getting out." He said.

"Well I guess you could stay with me whenever I find an apartment."
"Sure that would be great, thanks."

The joy of seeing my son had overweighed the thoughts that he would kill us all one day.

He had no idea that he was the antichrist, nor did he know what pain and suffering he could unleash upon the world.

"So what religion are you?" I said out of curiosity.
"I'm Christian."
"Oh..."

I couldn't help but laugh a little at the fact that the antichrist was christian.

Instead of finding an apartment that night, we stayed in a hotel room. I felt a melancholy breese flow through the air as I walked to the room.
We didn't have anything to unpack at all, both of us getting out of somewhere with only the clothes on our backs.

[cradle]

I undressed and laid in bed, the covers halfway over my body. I was soon fast asleep in a state of grey dreams. My son slept in the bed next to mine, before I fell asleep he went to go to the store down the road, I felt a little worried, worried that he'd get picked up by someone, ah mother's love prevails again.

I was suddenly awoken by a slight movement in the corner of the room, the feeling I got when I was last visited by satan came over the room, but this time I felt relaxed as if I were floating on a cloud. I knew it was him. I sat on the side of the bed. Then there he was, my son's father. He had a suit of seduction over his veil of green mist that covered his features. I walked to him, wanting him more and more, needing his features to be shown. We embraced for a short while, seduction at it's best comming over my soul.
Then he vanished.

I needed to end the suffering, I needed love where I couldn't get it. My son walked in the room as I strewn my sorrow stricken body across my bed, pain of love once again holding me in it's tight crisp grasp.


I laid in bed, my soul clothed in sorrow. I didn't sleep that night.

"love stricken fool! How could you fall for his tricks again?!" I said to myself.
I soon fell asleep on the hard cold bed lightly sheeted in my depression.

I awoke in the corner of a grey room, hands tied behind my back. I stood up, the ropes once trapping my hands in a prison of confinement fell off. It all had a melancholy aura in the atmosphere.
I looked across the room to see a small girl in a black dress, I observed her features.
Her eye sockets were empety, darkness filled what was once a brain. It spoke in a horrifying madder, black goop sprouting from it's mouth and splashing upon the walls. It's lips moved but it spoke nothing. I looked back to get away from it and what was once an empety grey room had transformed in such a manner that was impossible. Dead bodies hung from the ceiling, the stench was that of raw sewage.
Rivulets of blood ran through the floor leading to nowhere.
I saw satan in his true for come from a puddle of blood on the floor as if the puddle became him.
His wings pread as he snarled across the room at me.

"Don't you see what you're in for?" He said.
And then I woke up, no grey room, no dead bodies, just me and my son, in this cramped hotel room.

I sat and pondered about this dream...I knew it meant something.


We got up in the morning, the sun shining clearly through the white blinds placed lightly upon the window. I hadn't any idea what to do next, how to get money, or anything like that. I walked upon rough ground, not much cash, maybe about four or five hundred dollars.

"whatever happened to my dad?" he said randomly.
I felt a cold chill go about my body and I didnt want to talk about it.
"I don't know, he just left one day." I said.
"Oh...what was his name"
"His name was Sean." I lied.
I changed the subject.
"I guess we are going to have to stay in this room untill I can get back on my feet." I said.
"Yea. I guess so."
"I'm going to take a shower. Go downstairs and get breakfast for the both of us will you?"

I walked into the bathroom, the cold tile floor shiny from the lights above. I felt like dying, this sorrow stricken fool, tears falling upon the floor.
I stood under the cold water falling upon my body, depression falling over me like a bad habit. Half-hated thoughts ran over my mind as if the all came at one instant in time. I couldn't do this to myself anymore, the hatred I once felt for this man turned to love in the blink of an eye, almost as if he made me love him.
I got out of the shower, sadness coating my body like the cold water yet to be dried off.


I walked out of the bathroom, fully clothed, smelling like cheap soap. I was tired of being in sorrow, tired of wanting to die, so I finally decided to do it. It was hard to think of him going, the tears welling up in my eyes as i looked at him sitting on the bed, breakfast next to the tv. If I killed myself and left him, His father would get him, and end the world.

I had to do it, I HAD to kill him. I wanted to die first, just to keep me from seeing him die, but it had to be done for the sake of humanity. My emotions were mixed. Sorrow, depression, anger, and determination.

I walked towards him, knife in hand, tears streaming down my face.
I drove the knife into his chest as he screamed in pain, the tears and pain inside me weakened me to the core. almost to the point where I couldnt do it, but I did, and he was dead.

I knelt over his dead body on the floor, sobs absorbing into the walls.

I plunged the knife into my stomach, and with my final dying breaths wasted on sobs, I said "not this time satan, not this time."

[Crying_Crimson_Tears]

You're brilliant kid. Your writing skills are brilliant. You have done such a wonderful job on this.

[cradle]

Fershizzle...

[Crying_Crimson_Tears]

There's just something so wrong with you saying that.

[Macabre]

I would have to say that this piece is better constructed than 'The Mortician'. You must have put a lot of time and effort into this, and it clearly shows. A very original, creative piece.

Favorite line: "I knew this man was a devil, but I didn't know he was Satan." That cracked me up for some odd reason.