Chapter 1
I wake up in the dark. Sweat pouring off of me. Most nights are like this. Dreams. Visions. Whichever one wants to call it. They follow me deep into my sleep. Just when I think I will never escape, this world yanks me back into it. I should start a journal. Record everything down. I read in some obscure magazine that it can help. A sort of therapy. Maybe one day. But tonight’s not going to be the time.
Tattered curtains move with the breeze coming in through the window. It should feel cool to me as it is Autumn. But it doesn’t. Just adds to the stifling close air in my room. Feet thump to the floor. Even the socks I wear are wet. My whole body felt it tonight. Yea. I have socks on. The dump Im staying is named “The Best Inn”. Original ain’t it. So I think you can see why I have something on my feet. Ah well, its a place to lay my head. At least the bugs run away when they see me.
I shuffle to the bathroom. A dingy hole that has a lightbulb half the wattage it should be. Rust and cracks are everywhere; on the fixtures, the walls, the ceiling. When the tap is turned on, it sputters and groans. Finally spraying hot water everywhere. I take a deep breath in and hold it. I tell myself I’m not going to lose it. Not yet anyways. Why does everything have to add to the cursed heat rushing through my veins?! An ugly deep brown towel wipes my face and chest. Everything is ugly here. I look into the mirror which is the only item still in good condition. How it has managed that, I will never know.
I wouldn’t call myself handsome. Pale green eyes and light brown hair . The women go crazy over my looks. I shrug. There is no understanding that species! I tend to run the other way when confronted with them. Hell, I disappear quick when anyone, male or female comes near me. I just want to be left alone, while I can be. Cause when night time comes around, I am far from being solitary.
Quickly I throw my clothes on; jeans, a faded blue shirt and chocolate colored jacket. No time to shower. I feel the pull that comes from the darkness inside of shadows. I make my way downstairs and am just about to pass the front desk when the clerk shouts out, “Hey Preacherman! What souls are in need of savin tonight?” He chuckles. “Seems to me you need to hire Cheryl for a night or two. Loosen you up a bit.”
Cheryl. I’ve never met a more pain in the ass woman in all my life. I’m virtually penniless and she knows it. Yet she keeps at me. Trying to convince me I need to be with a real woman of the world. The delights she could show me! Cheryl the prostitute. Maybe most men would be tempted. Especially when offered sex for free. But she disgusts me. I don’t even try to hide it. I give Dale sitting there, a grim look.
He isn’t as low life as he seems. He knows that I see it too but he likes to feel all bad ass. Dale waves his tattooed arm. “Ah get the fuck outta here before you start preachin to me or something like that. I’ll tell Cheryl hi for ya.” He says this with wicked glee. As I head out the door, down the street, I can still hear him laughing.
I suppose I should explain why he calls me Preacherman. But all good things in time. I will say this however, I am indeed a Reverend. My certificate reads, ‘This is to certify that Jarvis Timothy Holmes is now an ordained Minister of God.” Something like that. I haven’t read it too closely. Its packed away in my duffel bag. Back in that godless room and place called “The Best Inn.”
The darkness is where I feel most at home. Even though the streets are lined with lights. Its just a different atmosphere. I’m alive. Awake. And away from the things that haunt my mind. So here I am, Jarvis Timothy Holmes, making my way through the city. Into the least desirable places. I don’t smoke. I don’t drink and I try not to swear. There are no tattoos or piercings on my body. I do not carry a Bible or wear a clerical collar. But I am the Preacherman and I am not afraid of what awaits me, in daylight or moonlight.
I see him because I’m meant to. There is this dark brown color hovering around him. I’ve heard of them being called ‘auras’. I’ve never put much faith into those things. I only know I can see that he isn’t right. There’s something very wrong about him. He carries with him a paper bag. Every move he makes is rushed, an urgent need to get someplace fast.Then probably slither into a drab creepy hovel. A place infested with twisted lies no doubt. I follow at a distance. Blending into my environment effortlessly.
At last we arrive at his ‘home’.
Minutes tick by. I don’t want to enter too soon. I’ve got a job to do and it has to be precise timing. He doesn’t hear me step into the front room. The television is on, playing pictures of the thing he loves the most. Child pornography. I hear his zipper undo. The rage inside that I’d held in check builds fast. Now at this point, things usually become sketchy for me to remember. All I know are my emotions. Boiling. And then the welcome cold takes over me. I am me but not.
“Troy Sumner! Repent and confess your sins or be forever cast into your own sin!”
Troy leaps from his chair. Face beet red as he struggles with his pants. “Who the fuck are you?! How did you get into my house you son of a bitch?!” His anger is sucked into mine. He tries to move towards me but finds his lower half paralyzed.
Again I repeat, “Troy Sumner! Repent and confess your sins or be forever cast into your own sin!”
“You’re a fucking God freak! I’m going to kill you, you mother fucker!”
“Troy Sumner! Repent and confess your sins or be forever cast into your own sin!”
Its balling up in my stomach. A fist punching me from inside. I want to throw up. When I open my mouth I cry his name, “TROY!!” Television screen shatters. Slivers of glass explode, covering the small room; and Troy. His face, arms and hands glisten with embedded shards. Flesh starts bleeding. He half cries, half shrieks “Help me!” But I turn away.
“Aveshe nehemne somme laviste Asmodeus!” I never understand what I speak. Not the whole of it. One thing is always certain, evil is coming. Feverishly I chant the same phrase over and over, having no control over myself. I lose count. My bones and muscles want to rip out of my skin. To flee whatever is on its way. Guttural sounds from my throat cause the room to shake.
Finally everything stops. Silence. I am momentarily deaf. When I finally meet Troy’s gaze, I know he is too. He has that fear in his eyes. Of a rabbit being held in the predators claws and the dreadful knowledge that follows, death is imminent.
Imagine standing under water. Lungs want to breathe so bad but they can’t. All around, any sounds are muffled. A whooshing in the ears. For awhile it may be exciting, exhilarating even. Until the realization becomes clear. Far above there is light, where the surface opens and you can finally gasp in precious air! Imagine struggling to swim upwards only to have your body weigh you down. Arms thrash about desperately. The liquid moves with your motions but there is no rising to the top where you need to go. Think if you will, of how heavy and tired limbs would become. Eyes just want to close. But they are stinging, ready to explode from the pressure. Then you will understand what its like the moment before Asmodeus arrives.
For arguments sake I call this particular demon one simple word, Lust. Though he is much more than that.
Watery world crashes. I fall to my knees and vomit, wretching uncontrollably. A fetid stench surrounds Troy and I. I lift my head. His pallor is that of bloated death. Of someone who has drowned. But he is very much alive. A small pretty female child stands in front of him. She giggles and twirls around in her dress. “Aren’t I cute? Daddy says so. He says I am the most beautiful girl he has ever seen!” Her tiny legs skip closer to him. Cupid face turns into a petulant frown. She leans in and whispers, “Sometimes, he touches me. He says I can’t tell anyone.That they will get mad at me and take me away from him forever!” Her sweet voice pauses, “But you won’t tell anyone will you?”
I can’t move, instead am suspended by stilled time. Forced to watch this nightmare. The only comfort I have, is that it will all be over soon.
The child’s voice becomes louder, “You won’t tell will you?!” High pitch bordering on a shriek. “Cause if you tell, Daddy’s gonna have to kill you Troy! Kill you because you like to watch him do things to me! I saw you! I saw you watching!” She starts screaming hysterically. “I’m telling Daddy! I’m telling Daddy! He’s gonna kill you!” Like a photograph ripping in two, the image of her
separates, then melts away.
How does one describe what a demon looks like? The human mind could not fathom nor ever find a fitting adjective for it.
Asmodeus stands now, in front of Troy. I can see the human has wet himself. I’m certain his brain has refused to function for all he can do is stare unblinkingly. The demon’s paused, waiting. Making low growling sounds similar to that of a very pissed off lion.
A fit of coughing overwhelms me. I need to speak again but i can barely catch my breath. My chest cavity threatens to cave in. I steady myself, feeling dizzy. I wheeze out, “Troy Sumner, may you now be forever cast,” lungs restrict, forcing me to utter feebly. “.. into your own sin.”
Asmodeus releases a thunderous roar. Spider-like legs jagged with razored triangles reach out to Troy. Digging and sawing into his stomach. Guts and bile spill out onto the ground. I have never heard a wail like that from a human before. Its owner, a soul that has been damned. Troy’s spirit is wrenched and torn out from his body. An exorcism by a demon. Not something one normally sees during their lifetime. Poisonous fangs sink into Troy’s head, snapping it off with popping noises. The carcass is mutilated and shredded swiftly. Energy that once animated the corpse, chains itself to the beast. Belonging to him now. A forever of suffering torment awaits.
Asmodeus turns yellowish serpentine eyes upon me, “Finish so I can leave this place!” Voice hisses and sizzles. Mucus drips from his thousands of tiny sharp canines. I wrap my arms around my stomach. The pain is incredible! A taint from being so close to a creature not meant to dwell here in this world.
“Your lust has condemned you Troy Sumner, to an eternity of rape and defilement. There will be no mercy given. You will wish for true death yet never taste it.” I finish, I collapsing onto the floor. Laying limp while the ceiling spins wildly. Oh god, I feel Asmodeus’s respiration hot against my cheek. The odor reeking of rot and worm. He exhales in a deep boom, “Preacherman, lucky for you, you’re protected now. One day when your time is done, you and I are going to meet. On my terms.”
There is nothing I can respond to this. I’m too weak. Plus he’s right. But for now I am free from Hell’s judgement. The room is becoming distorted. I can’t focus. All my nerves are numbed. I slowly close my eyes, hearing Troy scream for the last time. Everything becomes a peaceful black..........
Murmurs. I don’t want to wake quite yet. Didn’t I just fall asleep? The hum of words more audible. So I force myself to stir back into consciousness, though I ache all over and just want quiet.
“Hey sugar. We gotta stop meeting like this.” Warm honeyed tone. I try sitting up but find myself nestled between two large heaving breasts. Cheryl. When my vision finally clears, I do not see the seductive garish woman who relentlessly hounds me. Her face has been scrubbed clean. Hair pulled back into a ponytail. She doesn’t even look much older than 20. I’m taken aback for a second.
Just then, a head peers curiously over her shoulder. “Dude! I didn’t know if you were going to make it!”
“Shut up Dale! Of course he was going to, isn’t that right hun?” She gives me a tremulous smile.
My tongue feels thick. Throat so scratchy it’s like sand has lodged itself there permanently. I lick dry lips. “Where did you find me?”
“Dale go get him some water.” Cheryl frowns in concern.
“Woman! Go get it yourself!” He shakes his head. “I’m not your damn slave!”
She sighs then lays my head down gently as she gets up. Her footsteps fading while she wanders off to find a glass. A better glance reveals I’m in my room. And this, is my bed. I’ve never been so glad to call a dive my home.
Dale leans over, studying me carefully. “Cheryl saw you stumbling down the street. You could barely stand and you sure as hell couldn’t speak. So she came and got me. We brought you back here.”
Unused to any sort of kind gesture or even having to say thank you, I just nod. There is whirring in my head. Like the revolving blades of a fan in the summer.
“It’s ok man. Just relax.” Dale wants to say something more. I can see his curiosity, but when he does speak its not quite what I’d have thought. “Preacherman? I don’t know what kind of religion you’re spreading but you gotta get off those drugs. That shit’ll kill ya!”
End of Chapter 1
Written by Copyright ©®™ Atusha Avarus
http://www.facebook.com/atusha.avarus
http://www.facebook.com/atushaavarusedition
I wake up in the dark. Sweat pouring off of me. Most nights are like this. Dreams. Visions. Whichever one wants to call it. They follow me deep into my sleep. Just when I think I will never escape, this world yanks me back into it. I should start a journal. Record everything down. I read in some obscure magazine that it can help. A sort of therapy. Maybe one day. But tonight’s not going to be the time.
Tattered curtains move with the breeze coming in through the window. It should feel cool to me as it is Autumn. But it doesn’t. Just adds to the stifling close air in my room. Feet thump to the floor. Even the socks I wear are wet. My whole body felt it tonight. Yea. I have socks on. The dump Im staying is named “The Best Inn”. Original ain’t it. So I think you can see why I have something on my feet. Ah well, its a place to lay my head. At least the bugs run away when they see me.
I shuffle to the bathroom. A dingy hole that has a lightbulb half the wattage it should be. Rust and cracks are everywhere; on the fixtures, the walls, the ceiling. When the tap is turned on, it sputters and groans. Finally spraying hot water everywhere. I take a deep breath in and hold it. I tell myself I’m not going to lose it. Not yet anyways. Why does everything have to add to the cursed heat rushing through my veins?! An ugly deep brown towel wipes my face and chest. Everything is ugly here. I look into the mirror which is the only item still in good condition. How it has managed that, I will never know.
I wouldn’t call myself handsome. Pale green eyes and light brown hair . The women go crazy over my looks. I shrug. There is no understanding that species! I tend to run the other way when confronted with them. Hell, I disappear quick when anyone, male or female comes near me. I just want to be left alone, while I can be. Cause when night time comes around, I am far from being solitary.
Quickly I throw my clothes on; jeans, a faded blue shirt and chocolate colored jacket. No time to shower. I feel the pull that comes from the darkness inside of shadows. I make my way downstairs and am just about to pass the front desk when the clerk shouts out, “Hey Preacherman! What souls are in need of savin tonight?” He chuckles. “Seems to me you need to hire Cheryl for a night or two. Loosen you up a bit.”
Cheryl. I’ve never met a more pain in the ass woman in all my life. I’m virtually penniless and she knows it. Yet she keeps at me. Trying to convince me I need to be with a real woman of the world. The delights she could show me! Cheryl the prostitute. Maybe most men would be tempted. Especially when offered sex for free. But she disgusts me. I don’t even try to hide it. I give Dale sitting there, a grim look.
He isn’t as low life as he seems. He knows that I see it too but he likes to feel all bad ass. Dale waves his tattooed arm. “Ah get the fuck outta here before you start preachin to me or something like that. I’ll tell Cheryl hi for ya.” He says this with wicked glee. As I head out the door, down the street, I can still hear him laughing.
I suppose I should explain why he calls me Preacherman. But all good things in time. I will say this however, I am indeed a Reverend. My certificate reads, ‘This is to certify that Jarvis Timothy Holmes is now an ordained Minister of God.” Something like that. I haven’t read it too closely. Its packed away in my duffel bag. Back in that godless room and place called “The Best Inn.”
The darkness is where I feel most at home. Even though the streets are lined with lights. Its just a different atmosphere. I’m alive. Awake. And away from the things that haunt my mind. So here I am, Jarvis Timothy Holmes, making my way through the city. Into the least desirable places. I don’t smoke. I don’t drink and I try not to swear. There are no tattoos or piercings on my body. I do not carry a Bible or wear a clerical collar. But I am the Preacherman and I am not afraid of what awaits me, in daylight or moonlight.
I see him because I’m meant to. There is this dark brown color hovering around him. I’ve heard of them being called ‘auras’. I’ve never put much faith into those things. I only know I can see that he isn’t right. There’s something very wrong about him. He carries with him a paper bag. Every move he makes is rushed, an urgent need to get someplace fast.Then probably slither into a drab creepy hovel. A place infested with twisted lies no doubt. I follow at a distance. Blending into my environment effortlessly.
At last we arrive at his ‘home’.
Minutes tick by. I don’t want to enter too soon. I’ve got a job to do and it has to be precise timing. He doesn’t hear me step into the front room. The television is on, playing pictures of the thing he loves the most. Child pornography. I hear his zipper undo. The rage inside that I’d held in check builds fast. Now at this point, things usually become sketchy for me to remember. All I know are my emotions. Boiling. And then the welcome cold takes over me. I am me but not.
“Troy Sumner! Repent and confess your sins or be forever cast into your own sin!”
Troy leaps from his chair. Face beet red as he struggles with his pants. “Who the fuck are you?! How did you get into my house you son of a bitch?!” His anger is sucked into mine. He tries to move towards me but finds his lower half paralyzed.
Again I repeat, “Troy Sumner! Repent and confess your sins or be forever cast into your own sin!”
“You’re a fucking God freak! I’m going to kill you, you mother fucker!”
“Troy Sumner! Repent and confess your sins or be forever cast into your own sin!”
Its balling up in my stomach. A fist punching me from inside. I want to throw up. When I open my mouth I cry his name, “TROY!!” Television screen shatters. Slivers of glass explode, covering the small room; and Troy. His face, arms and hands glisten with embedded shards. Flesh starts bleeding. He half cries, half shrieks “Help me!” But I turn away.
“Aveshe nehemne somme laviste Asmodeus!” I never understand what I speak. Not the whole of it. One thing is always certain, evil is coming. Feverishly I chant the same phrase over and over, having no control over myself. I lose count. My bones and muscles want to rip out of my skin. To flee whatever is on its way. Guttural sounds from my throat cause the room to shake.
Finally everything stops. Silence. I am momentarily deaf. When I finally meet Troy’s gaze, I know he is too. He has that fear in his eyes. Of a rabbit being held in the predators claws and the dreadful knowledge that follows, death is imminent.
Imagine standing under water. Lungs want to breathe so bad but they can’t. All around, any sounds are muffled. A whooshing in the ears. For awhile it may be exciting, exhilarating even. Until the realization becomes clear. Far above there is light, where the surface opens and you can finally gasp in precious air! Imagine struggling to swim upwards only to have your body weigh you down. Arms thrash about desperately. The liquid moves with your motions but there is no rising to the top where you need to go. Think if you will, of how heavy and tired limbs would become. Eyes just want to close. But they are stinging, ready to explode from the pressure. Then you will understand what its like the moment before Asmodeus arrives.
For arguments sake I call this particular demon one simple word, Lust. Though he is much more than that.
Watery world crashes. I fall to my knees and vomit, wretching uncontrollably. A fetid stench surrounds Troy and I. I lift my head. His pallor is that of bloated death. Of someone who has drowned. But he is very much alive. A small pretty female child stands in front of him. She giggles and twirls around in her dress. “Aren’t I cute? Daddy says so. He says I am the most beautiful girl he has ever seen!” Her tiny legs skip closer to him. Cupid face turns into a petulant frown. She leans in and whispers, “Sometimes, he touches me. He says I can’t tell anyone.That they will get mad at me and take me away from him forever!” Her sweet voice pauses, “But you won’t tell anyone will you?”
I can’t move, instead am suspended by stilled time. Forced to watch this nightmare. The only comfort I have, is that it will all be over soon.
The child’s voice becomes louder, “You won’t tell will you?!” High pitch bordering on a shriek. “Cause if you tell, Daddy’s gonna have to kill you Troy! Kill you because you like to watch him do things to me! I saw you! I saw you watching!” She starts screaming hysterically. “I’m telling Daddy! I’m telling Daddy! He’s gonna kill you!” Like a photograph ripping in two, the image of her
separates, then melts away.
How does one describe what a demon looks like? The human mind could not fathom nor ever find a fitting adjective for it.
Asmodeus stands now, in front of Troy. I can see the human has wet himself. I’m certain his brain has refused to function for all he can do is stare unblinkingly. The demon’s paused, waiting. Making low growling sounds similar to that of a very pissed off lion.
A fit of coughing overwhelms me. I need to speak again but i can barely catch my breath. My chest cavity threatens to cave in. I steady myself, feeling dizzy. I wheeze out, “Troy Sumner, may you now be forever cast,” lungs restrict, forcing me to utter feebly. “.. into your own sin.”
Asmodeus releases a thunderous roar. Spider-like legs jagged with razored triangles reach out to Troy. Digging and sawing into his stomach. Guts and bile spill out onto the ground. I have never heard a wail like that from a human before. Its owner, a soul that has been damned. Troy’s spirit is wrenched and torn out from his body. An exorcism by a demon. Not something one normally sees during their lifetime. Poisonous fangs sink into Troy’s head, snapping it off with popping noises. The carcass is mutilated and shredded swiftly. Energy that once animated the corpse, chains itself to the beast. Belonging to him now. A forever of suffering torment awaits.
Asmodeus turns yellowish serpentine eyes upon me, “Finish so I can leave this place!” Voice hisses and sizzles. Mucus drips from his thousands of tiny sharp canines. I wrap my arms around my stomach. The pain is incredible! A taint from being so close to a creature not meant to dwell here in this world.
“Your lust has condemned you Troy Sumner, to an eternity of rape and defilement. There will be no mercy given. You will wish for true death yet never taste it.” I finish, I collapsing onto the floor. Laying limp while the ceiling spins wildly. Oh god, I feel Asmodeus’s respiration hot against my cheek. The odor reeking of rot and worm. He exhales in a deep boom, “Preacherman, lucky for you, you’re protected now. One day when your time is done, you and I are going to meet. On my terms.”
There is nothing I can respond to this. I’m too weak. Plus he’s right. But for now I am free from Hell’s judgement. The room is becoming distorted. I can’t focus. All my nerves are numbed. I slowly close my eyes, hearing Troy scream for the last time. Everything becomes a peaceful black..........
Murmurs. I don’t want to wake quite yet. Didn’t I just fall asleep? The hum of words more audible. So I force myself to stir back into consciousness, though I ache all over and just want quiet.
“Hey sugar. We gotta stop meeting like this.” Warm honeyed tone. I try sitting up but find myself nestled between two large heaving breasts. Cheryl. When my vision finally clears, I do not see the seductive garish woman who relentlessly hounds me. Her face has been scrubbed clean. Hair pulled back into a ponytail. She doesn’t even look much older than 20. I’m taken aback for a second.
Just then, a head peers curiously over her shoulder. “Dude! I didn’t know if you were going to make it!”
“Shut up Dale! Of course he was going to, isn’t that right hun?” She gives me a tremulous smile.
My tongue feels thick. Throat so scratchy it’s like sand has lodged itself there permanently. I lick dry lips. “Where did you find me?”
“Dale go get him some water.” Cheryl frowns in concern.
“Woman! Go get it yourself!” He shakes his head. “I’m not your damn slave!”
She sighs then lays my head down gently as she gets up. Her footsteps fading while she wanders off to find a glass. A better glance reveals I’m in my room. And this, is my bed. I’ve never been so glad to call a dive my home.
Dale leans over, studying me carefully. “Cheryl saw you stumbling down the street. You could barely stand and you sure as hell couldn’t speak. So she came and got me. We brought you back here.”
Unused to any sort of kind gesture or even having to say thank you, I just nod. There is whirring in my head. Like the revolving blades of a fan in the summer.
“It’s ok man. Just relax.” Dale wants to say something more. I can see his curiosity, but when he does speak its not quite what I’d have thought. “Preacherman? I don’t know what kind of religion you’re spreading but you gotta get off those drugs. That shit’ll kill ya!”
End of Chapter 1
Written by Copyright ©®™ Atusha Avarus
http://www.facebook.com/atusha.avarus
http://www.facebook.com/atushaavarusedition
