Unredeemable.pdf

Unredeemable

by E.A. Koetting

That late October night seemed so very hot then, almost murky like a Mississippi

swamp hidden within the impenetrable mass of wild trees and man-sized grasses. A

deep, sorrowful evil - also so closely reminiscent of that ancient bayou - suspended in my

chest like the blackest cloud that refused to rain. But now, in somber retrospection, I can

clearly see that the air was chilled, more like a wintry Boston or Detroit rather than New

Orleans' French Quarters on a crowded summer afternoon. The memory of steam rising

from my lips to form a cloud in the ashen sky now comes to mind. My skin was

contracted around the bones and was covered with goose bumps; but then it had felt so

very hot.

It all still seems like a picture or a video... clear and unbroken, yet so very far

removed. How could anyone in sane mind not disconnect themselves from their own

terrifying actions? Who would possibly want to bear the responsibility for such

wickedness? Then again, am I actually qualified to properly judge my own sanity?

That night, that single moment trapped in the molten essence of eternity, haunts

me now so unmercifully. It has become an unbearable Hell from which I cannot escape.

No amount of therapy, opiates, self-abuse, or suicide attempts could or will ever release

me from the glass walls of Hades that I have built around myself. Walls that show

nothing but my horrid reflection.

He stood in the cemetery when I had first seen him that night. He stood tall and

straight like a Roman guard, never breaking rank and never losing his bearing. His long

leather coat hung down to his feet like a mystic's cloak, concealing his slim, toned body

wrapped in skin that had never seen the sun. Blond hair fell softly onto his shoulders,

shrouding parts of his face from my view.

He had seen me when I first entered that archaic graveyard, the gargoyles

watching the rusted gates for trespassing demons. Now, I have to imagine that they must

have been looking the other way when I entered. Surely, they would never allow a soul

as mine to defile their sacred burial grounds had they spotted me.

He also had recognized me, although he gave no sign of it. His silver eyes were

inseparably transfixed on a particular headstone. There was no name or epitaph, only an

illegible date of death. The small stone could easily escape the attention of anyone's

eyes. Anyone's except his.

"This is the night," he spoke, still concentrating on the headstone, struggling to

receive some impression of the deceased's life. The spirits roamed that night. They

whistled through the pine needles and clamored at every loose shutter. They also

tempted the darkness within the hearts of two young men about to embrace the coldest

parts of Hell.

"It is," I replied, trying to force my voice into a monotone as his had been. "It's

already midnight, Jason. She's probably been asleep for hours. Let's go!"

He finally lifted his head to look up at my face, a notion that startled me. I began

to believe that Jason had become marble; his stillness, silence, calmness, and seemingly

chiseled features made this statue impression seem all the more real. None of my

emulations or imitations could ever match the silent majesty he radiated from every

aspect of his character.

Jason's hands, gloved in leather, stretched out to his sides to form a human cross.

"Tonight, my brother, we become Gods!" A madness shimmered in his eyes for an

almost unnoticeable moment; an insanity that I now see every day in the dreaded mirror.

The streets were quiet, as they had always been this late at night. The entire city

slept as we began our clandestine journey into Hell. Her house seemed to glow like a

beacon, although the only lights were imparted by the slivered moon and countless stars.

A sweet scent like fresh honey or pine resin lingered in the midnight air.

Jason, unmoved by the beauty of the nightly solitude, approached her door,

finding it unlocked. Up until that night, everybody in this rural town was so trusting.

Nothing bad could imaginably happen there. Until that night, that is.

I opened the trunk of my car in preparation and joined Jason at the porch, peering

into her welcoming doorway as if it were a portal inviting me to forever reside in outer

darkness. He entered first, fearless even of his own evil - and I followed warily behind.

A foyer greeted us with a "Welcome" rug, a ticking grandfather clock, and family

pictures hung perfectly square on the walls. We passed through this room into a kitchen

furnished with all of the modern cooking devices. Then past that room down a short hall,

and stood just outside of her chambers. The door was wide open, and Jason glared inside

at her frail body lying comfortably on a down bed.

He motioned with his gloved hand to enter behind him. As he crept, I could hear

the soft carpet crushing beneath his boots and that old grandfather clock could still be

heard ticking this life's time away. My own breath seemed to issue from my lips like a

roaring furnace, so I tried to stifle each breath as much as I could manage.

The darkness only allowed us to see her outline once inside the room. Jason again

motioned with his hand that I inspect her before we moved. I took a step towards the

bed, having to command my feet to move as they became lead when not following

Jason's. My breath caught in my throat, and I was afraid to release it in fear of the airy

current awakening our sleeping victim. Each step towards this girl became a step further

to my own perdition.

Finally standing over her, I was numbed by the realization that I could never go

back. In the cemetery, I could have turned away. Outside of her house I had the

opportunity to leave. Even just outside of her bedroom door I could have abandoned my

friend and kept my conscience. But, leaning over the girl only a year younger than I,

hearing her breath and even her heart, I knew that I had entered a Hell with no exit and no

emergency escape.

I bent down to look at her face. It was still so very dark. I leaned closer and

closer to her resting body until her porcelain skin shined through the blackness. I had

become entranced by her... by my victim. I leaned even closer until I could feel the heat

of her blood and her warm breath against my cheeks.

But something was wrong. The dreaded sight that caught my eyes was one that

fear would not let me believe. She laid there silent, save for her breath... yet her eyes

were wide open. As I stared into them in disbelief, she began to tremble. Tears shook

from those opened eyes and streamed down her face. I straightened immediately,

stammering as I tried to warn Jason. My mind went blank, as if I had gazed into the

abyss itself and was dumbfounded by the hideous sight.

As my garbled warnings floated through the air slower than I had ever thought

sound could move, the girl lunged towards me, teeth gnashing and hands flailing. I

attempted to move aside, to dash backwards from her, but found myself on the floor, my

feet stumbling over my wordless confusion.

Jason seemed to fly across the room and grabbed her in his arms. He tossed her

effortlessly onto her bed and bounded on top of her. His hand reached into his coat

pocket, pulling out a rag reeking of chemical fumes, which he held over her face until her

spasmodic thrashing ceased. The young girl's motionless body rested ominously like a

corpse. I could do nothing but lay on the floor and stare in rapt admiration.

I cleared the way for Jason as he carried her through the silent house, opening and

shutting doors as we went. Her body was lain in my empty trunk as if it were a royal

carriage, and the lid was softly shut to enslave her.

Adrenaline of the purest form burned in my veins as we returned to the hidden

cemetery. Jason sat silent in the passenger seat - silent as he always had been. I longed

to talk with him, to perhaps tell him of how my heart was racing faster than I cold count

or how my intense breathing was beginning to make me dizzy. I wanted to tell him how

scared I had been when I realized the girl was not asleep, how I thought that it was all

over for us then. Really, I needed to hear him say that he felt the same; confirm that he

was as mortally frail as I. But I said nothing.

The headlights beamed down the old stone pathway towards the forgotten

graveyard. The night was hushed in a dismal reverence except for the rumble of the car's

idling engine.

Jason looked at me the way a God would gaze upon his trembling servant. "Go

ahead of me," he whispered, his cold voice shattering the quiet sanctity that I felt might

save me. "Get everything ready. I'll bring her down in a minute."

I could feel my lips trembling and my back began to twitch so slightly as to

escape his scrutinizing sight. I opened the car door, the crisp metallic crunch almost

scaring me as if entirely unexpected.

The path twisted downwards into what appeared to be a blackened abyss. Soon,

those rusted iron gates came into view, only increasing my terror of what we were about

to do. The car's headlights shut off behind me, and just as my sight adjusted to the

darkness I could hear the trunk popping open.

The gargoyles glared at me this time as I creaked open the gates and stepped onto

that sacred burial ground. They knew my intentions, but didn't seem to care. A large

cardboard box awaited me at the center of the cemetery, and I already knew what it

contained. I pulled four long tent stakes from the box and sunk them sturdily into the

moist earth, attaching chained cuffs to each one. A large double edged dagger followed,

the feel of the wooden handle menacingly gripped in my hand making me tremble in

fearful anticipation. Large candles were set in a circle around the stakes in an equal

arrangement of black and red. A tin goblet was placed at the head of the circle, in the

western position, and a filled incense burner beside it.

While the last of the provisions were made, the gates creaked open again,

heralding the return of my companion and our victim. Jason carried the unconscious girl

to the circle formation and set her lightly on the ground. Kneeling beside her, we

fastened the cuffs around her wrists and ankles, shackling her to the unforgiving earth.

Jason opened his hand to reveal a glass vial and broke it under her nose. Breathing the

stringent vapors in, the girl awakened with a choking cough. Her eyes immediately filled

with fear, and her arms once again flailed as far as the chains would let them.

As she struggled against the restraints binding her to the ground, Jason and I

adorned ourselves in black robes, throwing the hoods over our heads as if we were true

Satanic priests rather than ordinary young men having nothing more than hearts filled

with evil.

My eyes glanced once more at the girl, now seeming like a captured angel. Her

persistent endeavors towards freedom had left her, and she laid exhausted on that wet

cemetery grass. She lay with arms and legs spread to their limits, her white nightgown

reflecting the light of the moon. Her short brown hair was mangled by her exertions, and

her ivory skin began to rash from the needle point tips of the grassy blades. Those brown

eyes filled with tears looked up at mine, begging to be released. She wasn't asking for

riches or special favors; all that she wanted was to live... the basic drive and desire of

every existent thing which we were about to steal from her. In the moment that our eyes

locked, I had completely forgotten why it was we were doing this thing. What could

possibly justify denying an angel as beautiful as she of the simple right to remain alive?

Jason's hand grabbed my shoulder from behind in reassurance, then took that evil

dagger from my hands. My body almost collapsed in that second under the weight of my

soul. One day earlier, the worst thing I had ever done was stolen candy from the

neighborhood grocery store, and here I was ready to commit a sin that not even Jesus - in

all of his compassion and empathy - would ever forgive.

Like always, however, I followed the lead of my demonic counterpart and stood

at one side of the girl, within the circle of flaring candles. Just as he had done a half an

hour earlier in this very same place, Jason spread his arms out to form a mocking crucifix

with his body. I did the same, although my eyes were still fixed upon the staggering

beauty of our captive.

"Prince of Darkness!" He shouted into the cold night sky. "Accept this

immolation in thy name. Open wide the gates of Hell and cast up the blessing of Lucifer

upon us. We stand within this circle as men, but united with the Powers of Darkness we

become Gods!" Silence ensued Jason's brief monologue, signaling that it now was my

turn to pledge my alliance to the denizens of Hell.

"Satan," I yelled, trying with all of my will to keep my voice from cracking or

revealing the unborn tears catching in my throat. "Infernal majesty and keeper of the

powers of vengeance and death, see our lights and hear our calls, and do not forsake us.

Offer up from the brackish bowels of the earth the hundred Legions of Dark Angels to

surround this sacrifice, and deliver unto us all the powers of your damnable reign!" The

words had been memorized over the course of several days, but only then - on that night -

did I feel the gates of the abyss swing open and release the Hellish fiends.

Looking up at Jason, he then appeared somehow different. Not exalted or

demonic as I had perceived he would, but different in a much more subtle way. I saw

him as I saw myself. I saw him - for the first time since knowing him - as my equal. His

blond hair fluttered in the rising wind just as mine and his skin seemed just as vulnerable.

Not marble anymore, but mere flesh. For an instant, I hated him for causing me to

believe that he was something more than just another mortal.

We crouched beside the girl, and now even she looked different. She squirmed

and writhed on the ground helplessly trying to escape as Jason began to cut at her

nightgown. Her teeth clenched and her entire face twisted into a look of agonizing

expectation. I felt disgust for the exact same person that drew out all of my sympathy

only moments earlier. The dagger's blade sliced down the center of her garments, the

wind that was ever growing louder and more violent sweeping them from her naked

body.

My hand reached out, as if guided by some preternatural force, and touched her

quivering lips. Her sobs became clearly audible at this motion; my touch seeming to

singe her skin. I could see from the very corner of my eye Jason's glare at my departure

from the ritual's planned format.

My malicious caress continued to her neck, thin and openly unprotected from a

quick lashing of teeth or an unrepentant closing hand. Then to her breasts, firm in her

youth and taut in the cold. Her sobs quickly transformed into wails, such screams

exciting the darkest parts of my soul. Groping those breasts in the most unaffectionate

way, I knew that she could do nothing to stop me. Even Jason in all of his strength and

courage was stricken speechless at my actions. Casting a glare at him, he continually

seemed to grow weaker, like I was stealing all of his strength and bravado and turning it

into something of real power.

In what appeared to be envy, Jason reached out and joined me in my unbidden

advances. As his hands roved her chest, I rested mine on her stomach. The muscles

tightened and jerked like my gentle touch was more of a bleak lash. The girl began to

thrust her torso off of the ground as to push us away from her body, not realizing that she

was now nothing more than my object of sin. Her unintelligible laments quickly became

soft beggings of mercy.

"Please," she would whimper pathetically. "Just let me go and I promise I won't

tell anyone. Please, oh God, please." I leaned down to her ear, listening to her breathing

grow more frantic and uncontrolled than before.

"God," I laughed lightly enough for her to hear me. "God's not listening. He

doesn't care. I'm your only god now!" Her voice squealed in despair as I returned my

attention to the lower parts of her body. I pressed a cheek against the skin of her

stomach, feeling an eerie comfort in being close to my slave. My lips touched that skin

proceeding my teeth, which clenched painfully onto it. A gasp could be heard escaping

her lips... a gasp that could almost be mistaken for pleasure. When I could see that she

had grown accustomed to the pain of my malicious bite, I knelt again with my back

straight, a hand still touching her body.

Caressing the flesh that had nearly been torn by my teeth, my hand moved farther

down the body of the captive angel. My fingers danced along her leg and brushed her

inner thigh. That skin was so much softer than the rest, like new silk. My hand stroked

the velvety skin for a moment before moving to the secret, untouched places of her body.

Her thick black hair was noticeably wet, making me wonder for a moment whether or not

she was actually enjoying this defilement.

Plik z chomika:

Inne pliki z tego folderu:

Inne foldery tego chomika: