the devil dreams

Posey in Fiction

112 reads

the devil dreams

The devil dreams in brilliant colors. She dreams of painting the universe in shades of lavender and planting peonies across space that bloom into moons. She dreams of finding love with a like-minded angel. And although she feels no shame for her fall, she dreams of a kinder, wiser god. But when she wakes up it is to the reality of a fallen morning star; thoroughly desolate and gray.

Despite the rumors, the devil has no influence over humanity or their souls. She is powerless and reigns over no domain. Simply put she has been banished to nowhere and is to stay there for as long as one forever. She could easily withstand at least a few forevers. But the gossip and rumors that god has incited, for thousands of years now, really hurt. The devil knows how humans disdain her, even so, she finds the species adorable. Sadness spreads throughout the feathers of her tattered wings when she thinks of them.

And so on the edge of existence and at the corner of nowhere, she waxes and wanes. She muses and dreams. But sometimes she has nightmares. Unbearable nightmares that are made of sapphire flames and hate. The kind of nightmares that grab the devil by the jaw and breathe doom into her stomach and dread into her heart. Nightmares that depict the eternally sprawling terror of hell with the devil herself at its helm.

Whenever she wakes from such nightmares, fear tugs at her eyes and droplets fall in hues unknown to humankind.

LanieBorne in Fiction

94 reads

You

Isn't it obvious? The devil is afraid of you. He is afraid of the light you hold in the darkness, that you carry around within you. That's why he tries so hard to snuff it out. He tries to tear you down, clawing at your weakness, trying to turn the light off. He tempts you because he knows you are stronger than him, and wishes for you to feel some shred of the weakness he feels. He's afraid of hope. He's afraid of you and your beautiful story.

Cover image for post Don't Be Afraid, by LexiCon

LexiCon in Fiction

71 reads

Don’t Be Afraid

Don't be afraid of the devil.

The devil is afraid of you.

You have legions of angels on your side.

A two-edged sword that can slice the air and make it bleed.

An impenetrable shield that yields to none.

Don't be afraid.

Don't be afraid of the devil.

The devil is afraid of you.

You're a rebel against the rebellion.

A soldier who can't die twice. A raging fire with hands of ice.

A worthy warrior of words.

Don't be afraid.

Don't be afraid of the devil.

The devil is afraid of you.

He only has the power you allow him.

You've got a mind so strong, others strain to obtain the thoughts in your brain.

Immune to all the lies.

Don't be afraid.

Don't be afraid of the devil.

The devil is afraid of you.

Your rising is his downfall.

You are anointed, appointed, adorned.

An invincible believer.

Don't be afraid.

The Struggle In Us All

Chapter 220 of 500

WhiteWolfe32

The Illusion

He wants the throne, he says he does.

He wants the throne that you gloat about so much.

He wants what you hold over his head.

But does he?

Or has he, like you, fallen in love with this illusion?

This one of fairness and black and white,

When both of you are grayer than a cloudy sky?

Does he really want your throne, or is he content with his life?

No.

He, like you, is afraid that one day, someone will shatter the illusion,

Revealing both of you to be gray.

And he'll be so used to being bad,

That he won't know himself

anymore.

The Devil and you,

as "different" as can be.

You fear the same things, you do the same deeds

But one is day and one is night

One is forgiveness and one is plight

One is black and one is white

Or is it?

You fear the illusion, shattering.

Well I've got the hammer, my darling.

JustDan in Fiction

86 reads

The Secret

The Devil is afraid of kittens. This revelation surprised him too. It was something in their eyes, something devious. Perhaps it was was because he knew what the kittens had seen. They know exactly what he did that day, that day in the snow. They had something on him, something dark and incriminating. First, a snow angel. He knew this was wrong on many levels, but he couldn't help it. He nearly giggled, but it was more of a nervous growl. And then, nearly a minute of catching snowflakes on his tongue. He didn't mean to stand there that long, but the falling snow was mesmerizing; it almost made him forget about his existential crisis. But he was ripped back into reality as he saw them watching. Oh yes, the kittens were watching from inside of the frosted windows. They witnessed his moment of weakness, his moment of innocence. They knew exactly what they had to do. But they needed to be patient and wait for the right moment. The Devil knew he was on barrowed time, but when and how he'd meet his demise, he didn't know. But the kittens knew, and he was terrified.

Bloodydonuts in Fiction

66 reads

Game Night with the Boys

"I'm not touching that thing!"cried Satan, after Adolf sat down with Vlad and Joseph, setting a flat rectangular box in the middle of the black oak table.

They all chuckled as Vlad reminded Lucifer, "We all know what happened the last time you joined us for game night."

Adolf chimed in, "Right, you wet yourself right onto Atilla's robe when you landed on Boardwalk! AH HA HA HA HA HA!"

"Piss off, mortals!" Snapped back Beelzebub. "You all know I can't stand that game!"

"But this version is Care Bearolpoly," giggled Stalin.

"It's the same fucking thing!" the Ruler of the Darkness retorted.

Adolf gently lifted the lid and the Devil screamed "Please don't do it or I will eat all your WAGs, you assholes!"

Der Führer reached in the box slowly while the others could hardly hold themselves together.

Suddenly, Adolf smacked an orange card on the Antichrist's forehead right between the horns. "Go to jail. Do not collect $200!"

Vlad fell right off his chair laughing as the Evil One fainted dead away.

authoraveryann in Fiction

73 reads

Red on my ledger and Blood in my grave

What is the Devil afraid of?

She can’t tell you, because her vocal cords were scorched.

History is made up of ‘ology’.

Paleontology; the study of dinosaurs. Archeology; the study of fossils. Anthropology; the study of humans. And to take it one step further… gynaecology; the study of woman functions.

For eons, the first gynaecologists were women. Gynaecology was invented by women and because of women.

But history has a habit of casting women aside.

What makes the Devil quake and tremble?

She can’t say, because her throat aches with ash.

Men have raised themselves on the belief that they are superior.

That’s another thing that history is made of, not just men, but ‘erior’.

Interior; the inside. Exterior; the outside. Superior; better. Deterior; breaking. Ulterior; choices. And inferior; less.

When were we inferior?

When we carried your babes? When we expelled our own bodies?

Or when we forgot just where you'd placed us.

What does the Devil fear above all?

She doesn’t know, because her thoughts were all burned.

Men treated women, and men treated men.

When women began to treat women, and they survived childbirth, men; who had been superior until this time, became inferior.

So they called witchcraft, and they called upon the Gods.

They lighted their torches, and tied the women to stakes.

And they burned.

What is the Devil afraid of?

She can’t say, she can’t tell, and she doesn’t know.

But she shows you, because in Hell, the fires never go out.