Untitled work in progress

May 1983

The chanting turned to gasps of shock as the far wall began to bleed. The circle stayed intact thought the chanting fell off. The bleeding coalesced into a pool of blood on the far wall and the only person still chanting was Zeke, it was his grandmothers book and he was going to see it through. Of the thirteen students in the circle only one was focused, only one was determined. Mark was on Zeke’s left and began to nudge him with his elbow fervently.

“Zeke, Zeke look, ZEKE!” Mark shouted at the end. The temperature in the room dropped sharply and a man stepped from the vertical blood pool, into the dimly lit library. The man was more beautiful than all the seniors in the entire high school. Zeke spun around, and his eyes locked on the vision standing on the carpeted floor. Several of the other began to weep uncontrollably. He stepped forward and smiled.

“Well, well, well,” he chided “I knew someone would use my book to call me, and here I am.” The figure looked around slowly and tutted.

“Not the normal setting for an occasion such as this,” he sighed, “But it will do, I suppose.”

He spread his arms wide and black wings unfolded from his back, an insane smile grew on his face. Everyone in the room jumped to their feet at the horrible revelation. Zeke stood slowly and slowly closed his mouth.

“Are… are you him? The Devil?” the words sounded weak and distant in his own ears. The man held his smile and nodded. The door slammed at the back of the room and scared everyone. He was standing in Zeke’s face now, so close Zeke could smell the spicy scent of his flesh. His skin had a sensuous and smooth surface, like carved marble, muscled and thin at the same time. The kind of figure a gladiator must have had, not fit out of want but need to survive. His arms still out he called to the teenagers.

“Come to me my little lambie, lambs. Let me touch each of you, for your destinies are now foretold. Tied forever to my service, my minions, my children.” The Devils eyes scanned the young and scared faces of the small crowd now gathering to his bosom.

“Wait, he is supposed to do what we say!” A young woman in the back, “We called you! You are supposed to grant us wishes or something.” The room grew colder and darker, all the hope and joy in the world seemed to fade away and only despair remained. Several of the ones who broke into tears earlier resumed the cries of woe.

“Ah, Clair, you want a wish?” she stepped back at the intensity of his gaze, enthralled and terrified at the same time. Looking the dragon in the eyes. “Well my dear, what shall it be, my price is the same as always, so be sure it is really something you want.” His smile held but was hollow and full of sharp teeth. Clair was suddenly angry.

“Who the hell are you? You don’t have horns or a tail! You can’t be the Devil, I would know…” She puffed up, “My dad is a Satanist, he showed me all that stuff. You, you...” As she spoke he reached out and stroked her face, stopping her train of thought. She shuttered visibly as if someone walked over her grave.

“I am he that walks in the shadow, the Morning Star, Son of Perdition. Your father knows me, does he? He has no idea the monsters that wait for him in the deep. I have laughed at the tribulations of man for eons. You are mere play things to me and, you my fine young friends have entered in a covenant with me for one request. The price is your immortal soul.” Again, he looked around the group.

“Who’s first?” he said lightly. No one moved an inch. A stunned silence at the prospect of everything that just happened covered everyone like a blanket. Slowly a hand crept up in the front. Zeke.

“Um, sir.” The Devil rounded on Zeke.

“No sirs, please. Call me Lou.” A charming smile erupted on his face.

“Uh, Lou.” It sounded weird to Zeke’s ears. “I can ask for anything? Is there a catch?”

“You mean more of a catch than your soul? Ah young Zeke, anything your heart desires. Money, Women, Men?” The smile went sly and he winked. Zeke blushed. “You want to be a rock star, that one is popular. A millionaire, billionaire? A King? You have but to ask.” Zeke cleared his throat.

“I want to be a demon,” he said quietly “I want to hurt and cause pain to everyone that hurt me. The whole world will suffer at my hand. That’s what I want.” Everyone in the group shifted their gaze to Zeke, even the old soul was surprised by that one.

“Oh yes I can do that. You will be the scourge of the world. Women and children will weep at the mention of your name. Men will run in terror at the mention of you.” He embraced the young man. “There are things you must do in order for this to happen, Ezekiel, a blackening of the soul if you will. Sacrifices and blood, gallons of it, Rivers!” A peal of laughter echoed around the room, as the man brightened at the idea of a flow of blood drowning towns. Zeke smiled and pulled off the robe, he was drenched in sweat. His chubby frame had begun to change and reform already, scales sprouting on his hands.