The Devil's Assault

The Devil's Assault


     If you don't believe on satan and everything about supernatural.. satan worshiping, exorcism, satanism, spirit medium, ESP. you have to believe all of them, since I the one who suffers from it, no exorcist letting me free, breath freedom as everybody does. feel your flesh being cut, or being tickled at the more normal level. This mind, body, heart and soul are already belong to Him.
     I was walking. walking on .. i saw many mysteries on every people's face. their heart is reflected to their eyes. i can see it. every layer of masks people wear, every devilish pattern they've (probably) done before this. i can see it, that woman, with face resembles necklace of diamonds, a tiara with silver and white gold all around it. With rotten heart, greed, pride, falseness. She is the slaves, His slaves, bear the wings of Him, seduces every man, drink all what they got-- their gold, their flesh, their souls. i can see that old man, sitting on te arm chair, give his speech to the kids, to the youngs surrounded him in a circle. he keep talking about how brave he was, in time when war torn the land where he lives. he told his audiences, how he can survive the crowd of legions with the feel of nothing around his body--filled with wounds, inside and out--by holding and stabbing with the bayonet in his arms. i can see it, it was not bravery, nor courage a warrior in any fairytale should have. i can see his eyes glows red in the battle, i can see he grow stronger in the battlefield. I can conclude, he was striking, not surviving. he's one of many Devil's jokers. one that could easily be influenced by the thoughts of him--oh, the one, blessed by the fall and dismemberment. the one that would kill for pleasure, with the vigor to shed as much as blood to the mother earth, his or her motherland. Finally in my final conclusion i can conclude him as a betrayer, a liar, an entertainer for another one. i keep walking on this earth, as i keep set my eyes forward towards the night which will be everlasting when the time of the sun has pass away, when human never see the morning again, and darkness consume them.
     The idea of world in darkness spark me--one of the reasons i'm not tierd of walking. besides i can see what people are, i'm a god damned, great talent seeker. that's another reason from many why He likes me, truly likes me. He can not wandering this world by himself, he needs an agent to deliver what he wants. therefore he needs talents that are suitable for every delivery. I AM that one who He lends his trust to. I AM a god damned talent seeker, a great talent seeker. One of his best talent seekers is the one he had chose for making an infant to stab. eternity is the prize he gave to that talent seeker. and i want it.
     I found this human, the result of my walking routine. a hunter, with sharpshooting proficiency, well-built morphologies and physiologies and animal, no, devilish-instincted to slay anything.
     It was a very godforsaken mission--human have saintly mission, instead we have the opposite. i don't have to organize him to do the job. i am a good man, for i letting him finding the most suitable way to kill. this King of Creed ascend to his lectern, the place his people inspirate their mind about doing good things, and oppose evil things. He doctrined his people, make them swallow every crude thoughts he spoke. Making them to walk to the lights of truth, and stay away from the abyss of violent manners and thinkings. He can't see this happen. He can't see this human live freely and move people towards The Divine, He wants him dead, He wants him to be his doll that He played and soon after, be torn apart. He had already done many anathemas to him. making a candle from a chandelier falls into his eye, burn it, hollow out his left eye. He had made him almost regurgitate his own lungs by the help of his aide, who try to finish his job by almost pulling it out from his mouth, but once again it's not meant for His kind to wander, moreover to kill The Divine's creation. and so, the fate of The King is decided that night. the human i brought doesn't has the chance to shoot after The King's ascend. But, the story won't be better if he succeed in shooting. The King is there in his sleep. Breathing unwillingly and uncontrolably, trapped in dreams. the hunter is hiding below the shadow, which always protects us the being that feed from it and live from it, and the being we blessed to blessed by it. the hunter take his calm step towards the dreaming king. calmly, take the knife in the sleeve. blood's everywhere. a body's bleeding. a body is left that night, on a bed. a body with stabs. stabs that penetrates the head of the king, river of blood flown as the body runs out of the red liquid. any being that is around that night, celebrates. with their mouths full of reds. for the king's head.. damned, corrupted, rot, as He wants for a celebration of His victory should be.
     He sometimes bored. He can't always see the same view. what makes him feel that way, it's a bonus i would take.
     Mankind are drown for their own joy. their joy makes them forgot each other. the joy makes them forgot to give a bow for The Divine. their joy, the joy, makes them accursed.
when mankind lost their joy, they suddenly saw the divine. Not as The Benefactor but as a harbinger of downfall to them. they curse The Divine, as their joy died. they hate The Divine, for the lost of their joys. they sick of The Divine, they want to erase The Divine in their heart and mind. He, The Devil, The Prince of Digression, can't let this kind of chance slip away. He come right away as a helpful being. with warm greets to the kind of mankind, even though His soul's an eternal incinerator. with hug feels like thousands of angelic wings, even though a torn, sharper than that of a rose, wrappped around is the truth. He smile, his victim smile(for a while). a win-win solution.
I Am that delivery boy to deliver the joy. the joy what seems to them had lost by the interference of The Divine, revived by me with darkness's culture.
     Don't you have a thought a psychopath is a mentally ill person. that kind of person is a great example of the masterpiece He made, the joy, His version of joy. i've had seed in them, it will grow stronger and stronger, the will to hate, the will to kill, to mutilate and decapitate. no one should blame the psychopaths. they just doing their own thing, something that's personal, something they have to do. we have deaths upon their ears, whispering every act they should take. deaths help them, deaths help them the ones that should left the world to make the cycle keep spinning. the creation-the birth-the death-... and the rebirth. it's only a show of drama, more entertaining than pantomime. it's not the thing you always see everyday, that part makes it more interesting. no one knows i'm the only witness where the chief brutally bludgeoned with an axe by that seemingly innocent woman. she done it beautifully, just as she looks. Fifty hits the face, no one can't tell it's the chief anymore, other blows the back. if he still lives, he will lives with pain that makes him beg to be dead by the pains on his back. the best part is she doesnt forget his heart. she is in hunger at that time, hungry for souls, hungry of to be condemned, hungry of the rope she'll got for the gallows. his hear is in her stomach, still beating like the kicking of an infant inside her womb.
     I know that this, all i can tell to you, is kind of a heritage from me. you're the heir. i beg for You, to mercy me, let me walk upon that lights again. honestly, i am tired of all this. i just want to put an end to this. no more men tied with a contract, no more ladies have to sold their souls to Him.. no, he even doesn't his name to get capitalized in the beginning. But, somehow i will always be a servant of him, that is my reason why i need Your Mercy. Let me be burn by the flame if common cleanser won't work on me. let the flame consumed me, burn all the sins i have done, burning deep into my spine, into all, each cells of my body. I am bloody understood that i have to take this, let every atom in my body explode along with organs burnt. Here i am, trying to coming home for Eden. oh, The Divine lead me back to where i supposed to be. Home...

Xavier, a 32 years-old man had been convicted of wizardry, witchcrafting, using abominations and sanguinaries to serve the Devil. in the front of the judge and civils his body tremors, inside the cage of flames. the sound of the priest reading his guilt, his last words in a letter loudly pass accross heavens, all of the civils mind. he will be remembered as the agent of the devil. only a saviour will save his soul, while it is wandering around the underworld. nobody knows he supposedly innocent, he doesn't deserves the cage, he deserves a better death, die in his sleeps. nobody knows he used to save people, and on his last saves the devil assaults him, a contract, a sacred son has been saved, the servant of devil born, wanders the earth, deludes every ladies and gentlemen, and finally be cleansed by the flame.