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Array
(
[sid] => 5574
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => THE DARK ONE RETURNS
[time] => 2002-10-25 06:30:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => THE DARK ONE RETURNS
Paul decided it was time to make a stand. He was sick and tired of being bullied at school, just because he wore dustbin lids as glasses didn’t mean he was a nerd, or the fact he liked reading in the library while the other lads played football or smoked. I might not have many friends but I enjoyed my life to the full, this unprovoked abuse had to stop. It was late I had decided to go to the library after school, as I normally did. Then a series of strange things began to happen, The sky turned an angry black; clouds resembled monsters with piercing eyes. This was just the beginning a wind picked up tarring at my face like razor wire. Birds arrived in the finger like trees, just sitting and watching, they were all black too. A black cat looked like a statue out of an Egyptian tomb, a sentinel on guard outside the front door. Still my mind put out nasty thoughts; I concentrated on the task in hand. I wasn’t far that familiar large building was coming into view. It was a beautiful place; a magically painted library locked in time. Large windows with tapered edges, some stained glass as if once it could have been a church. Long concave curves and a slender brick chimney just gave it a unique charm. I trudged up to the main door glad to get out of the biting wind and entered the library. Isles and isles of books some large some small rapped all around the interior of the large room. Ladders were situated around for the hard to reach volumes; some hadn’t been taken out for years by the look of the dust on them. The room was empty only myself, which was unusual the warden was normally here making sure boys were up to no good, like bringing there girlfriends in for a quick fondle or smoking. The air was cold she must have forgotten to switch the heating on today. Small tables were dotted around the sides of the bookcases beautifully polished, each table leg had a scrolled lion head foot, Its large mouth open as if in a silent roar. I walked towards the largest case to my far left and began to look for a book about the history of the Second World War. I had to write an essay on this chosen topic for a mock exam due in two weeks time. I scanned the rows of impressively bound books some old some new publications. Suddenly I felt as if I was being watched my spine tingled like small spiders were crawling up my back. Yet when I looked around all was quiet. I hadn’t heard anything but my instincts told me something was not quite right. The lights began to dim casting flickering shadows that danced and pirouetted, I put it all down to the storm outside. Looking out the window the wind whipped around like you had just started a blender, rubbish took to the air like small kites, then the rain fell a steady tapping hit the stained glass getting more constant. Then from my open book a monster jumped out of hideous conformation. I doughted my own sanity, but this form now stood before me gradually growing until it towered over me. I stood transfixed and aghast at what I saw; A large muscled body crimson red, eyes that were pits from hell, two black horns, wings leathery, veins that pumped fire, legs that looked like they belonged to a goat. I held my breath with awe-with a sentiment of forthcoming evil, My legs felt weird I couldn’t move if I wanted to. “I think you know why I’m here,” Said a raspy commanding voice. “I have no idea why you are here…What are you? My voice quaked in terror. “What am I good question…I have many names, the Dark One, Lucifer, or the devil, you may call me what you like.” My eyes unblinking locked into visions of fire, the Devil I must be dreaming. He smiled and said “You are not dreaming boy I am here because you called me.” “I wouldn’t know how to call you” I spluttered. “Its not a matter of knowing, you want revenge at school for being bullied didn’t you?” “Yes but…” “But what boy, you called my name subconsciously when you were sleeping. I am here at your own request.” “To do what?” I asked weakly. “To do what ever you want but it comes at a price.” “What would that be?” “You must sell your soul to me.” His words hit me like a sledgehammer, my heart felt like a sponge being squeezed from the inside. “If I do what you ask I won’t be bullied at school anymore.” I asked puzzled. “You will not be bullied again full stop. In exchange for your soul I will grant you eternal life.” His voice boomed around the walls agitating small specks of dust that cascaded down like gold dust onto the polished tables. “You will always be mine to command.” “And if I refuse.” I asked. He smiled I thought I could see fire dancing between his white teeth. “No one has ever refused me.” Outside the wind had eyes and a tongue it lapped at the glass mixed with the hoof like pelt of the rain. Birds were still in the trees, unmoving, silently bowed. The black cat was the same yet its fur was bone dry, starring transfixed as if it needed batteries fitted. No one has ever refused me…? What does that mean…? To frightened to more like I thought. “Ok I will do your bidding in exchange for eternal life” “A…hh wise choice…such a wise choice. Stand perfectly still and I will complete proceedings.” “It won’t hurt will it” I asked frightened. “Trust me boy it will not hurt one bit.” Why did I not believe him? He approached; an acrid sense of sulfur tickled the inside of my throat. Slowly flames glided out of his mouth and grabbed at my face, they danced, intertwined, an erotic dance of light that disappeared into my mouth and up each nostril. My body felt warm and alive, each vain in my arm pulsed like molten lava I had a feeling of power, my head felt like something probed in every dark cavity scooping out every last drop of my own identity. I opened the library door and walked into the rain, my eyes danced the skies, birds and the cat now all looked at me at darkness now nothing more. The black bird beguiling all my sad soul into smiling. My red lips parted I wanted revenge… [comments] => 1 [counter] => 143 [topic] => 13 [informant] => wellsmark [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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