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Boojy's been at the frikkin' short stories AGAIN :roll:

Mantheana's picture
Posted in

Yus, yus yus... I know, I should be writing stuff for LABN... OH WELL!

Anywhoo, recently it all seems to be critical or slanted on religion. So here is some merrily anti-trad crap! Sorry to all the people who are happily religious, I'm very happy for you. Monkeys and the likes!

The Advocate

When Lucifer fell, he pulled me down with him. The only difference is, I got up again.

When we were up there, it was beautiful. Everything was beautiful. Although I'm not altogether sure it was. Being up there does stuff to your head, y'know? Everything looks so beautiful, but maybe it's all inside your head. Like a drug or something - you're just so happy that everything is beautiful. I don't know. I can't remember it all.

But Lucifer and I, we were close. Yeah, you know what I'm saying, we were a couple, an item - we were lovers. I was with the original Lucifer. Not like how you would imagine though. I wasn't a girl back then, and he wasn't a guy. We were angels, beautiful, ageless, sexless and iridescent. You should have seen Lucifer's Halo back then. It was a sight to see. Even Gabriel's Halo didn't hold up to Lucifer's. God repeats himself, I suppose. Joseph and his technicolourwhatsit; Lucifer and his Halo. That was beautiful, I can tell you that for nothing - no drugs, no heaven's-head-messer, just beauty.

I'm not really sure why Lucifer was the favourite. Azrael, now that was an important thing. Angel of death and everything. It had a beautiful face. I mean we were all beautiful, but if I ever died its face was so calming to look upon, I know I'd want to see its face. Gabriel was heavenly. Messenger of the Lord. Not many people have that to their name. I think Him up there put a lot of effort into making it look like what humans think angels look like. But Lucifer. Everyone loved old Luci. He had charisma, style- whatever. I think even God fell for his own good work.

Anyway. When there was more than beauty; when there was love - he found me. IT was love. And because of that I can't really explain it to you. Down here, there is no love. No I mean it- all that crap from Lennon about love and peace and he doesn't know the half of it. What ever the song says or your heart is telling you, there is no love down here. Not like there is up there. Passion and hatred, desire and fear taint the love down here. I suppose it’s the best you're going to get. But it's not love. Not really.

We were not just in love. Lucifer and I were love. All the love here in the world could not equal the love we were. We would just exist and hold each other so tight that if we knew pain, we would have been screaming; if we were fragile, we would have broken. But we were strong- we were strength. With our wings we could lift this world and its miseries a thousand times over. We would kiss, but not how you know kissing. It was more than just touching lips. It was like… I don't know. You people don't have words. Everything was just so beautiful.

I was only an Angel. Lucifer was an Archangel. It was a privilege for me to be anywhere near him let alone to feel him the way I did. I knew my Halo was dull and ugly, but it was all he wanted to feel, and he was all I wanted to see. It's like that. Beautiful.

But there are many forces up there. Lucifer had a job to maintain, and love him as I did, my place was far below his work. He was in many places, doing many things, this and that for God, like his right hand they used to say. My knowledge of his importance did not stop me longing for him. My celestial flesh, if you can call it flesh, would pine and weep for his. Love between Angels was something else, but it was not always the something that Angels were looking for.

Angels who watched over the earth began to covet other things. Flesh. Real flesh. Kivael was the first to cross the line. It was a studier of humans you see. It was his job to report back to the Lord about how the newest creations were getting on. I never read the bible. I don't know how they tell it, whether Humans fell first, or angels, but humans were the first to walk the earth.

Contrary to suffering, they thrived on the earth, farming it and farming themselves, creating more and more. It was this that some desired. Not the Children of God, but the daughters of men. This was their downfall. And Kivael watched them and wanted so much to touch the flesh of Man's creation. And one day, it did. First it thought it could fly down, but leaving the heaven's without His permission results in a sudden lack of wings. So it fell, but it fell with grace. To become part of earth you must become a gender, for all living things on earth have gender. Kivael donned masculinity and took a girl in his arms.

From above, we all watched in fascination and terror. Some around us drooled at the sight of touching flesh and ran screaming and fell, giving into the temptation of flesh. It was a beautiful sight, and at the time, I did just want to stroke the hair of the daughters of Men, just to see what it was like.

But as we watched, so did He, and he was angered by it all. He had made Humans and he had made Angels. There was to be no mingling. But for some it was too late. Kivael, now a man, never again to fly was banished, along with his many brothers. This caused a stir- some Angels found it unfair that banishment was that simple, and one of those Angels was Lucifer.

As His top dog, Lucifer had many rights and privileges, but none of those included the right to question Him. But he did. He told me he would when I was lying in his arms, in the presence of his flesh, I had forgotten that of Humans. Lucifer liked to question things. It was in his nature, God created him that way. He felt all things should be fair and that sometimes the Lord was unjust, or made mistakes. I told him this was impossible, and at the time, I believed it. We were created to live in the knowledge that God was omniscient, omnipotent- Omni in general.

There was something about Lucifer. Maybe god's power over him had waned, but he began to feel agitated by all the little mistakes and unfairness that he felt God had ever committed. I tried to stop him. I begged and begged for him to stay with me, together, but it was no good. As he left to talk to God, I just sat there my wings trembling with fits of nerves, shaking so hard I thought my halo would shatter to a thousand pieces. I couldn't' cry. Angels can't cry. I watched him down on the streets as he marched to God and then I could watch it no more.

But in heaven the sky went black and I was in terror for my Lucifer. And then he was there, at the window, beaten and bloody, his heart racing, my heart leapt with joy and seeing him. We embraced and he held me so tight, his arms one step away from crushing my ribs. He whispered to me
"Ebbael," for that was my name "join me! leave with me." I knew there was nothing I would love to do more. So we stood, hand in hand. "Fall with me." And I did.

As we plummeted to earth, we changed, he became male, a leader, one to command. I became female, clever and manipulative. And we were equals then. He was no longer an Archangel, and I was not longer an Angel. Ranks forgotten, both outcast by our Father we clung desperately to each other and the memories of love as it was up there.

When we hit the ground we breathed, and felt the air around us, the ground beneath us and the earth that surrounded us. Then our flesh. We had human flesh now. We were vulnerable and cold on the earth. We found our brothers, and they stared at me, a female in their midst. We talked about the old times, and met the flesh that they fell for. They were beautiful in a way, the daughters of Man, in a way that man nor they will ever understand. I experienced physical love. Bodies that ache and scream for contact with another. Lucifer and I loved in a different way then. We loved with passion and fear and lust. I grew to know the world and so did he. I thought I could be content and that so could he, with a single life span and each other. But he had bigger plans than Earth. He and his brothers set out to bring down what they called Tyranny. God. They were set to leave earth and create a new place, separate from Heaven and the Universe. Hell.

But I couldn't leave this earth. I had come to love its frailty and imperfect nature too much. So I stayed. I longed for him, in my mortal body and loved him still. I believe he loved me also for when I feared death, he sent me a gift from his new and powerful realm. I too was to live forever once more.

People I've known have called me a witch. Granted, I have a few extraordinary talents, but I always see past that. Witches are rumoured to be advocates of the devil. They aren't of course. They're just conduits for power when he needs a job doing. I don't think they're even aware of what they tap into. But I look down on them. I am the advocate. When he chose to be male, it was because he said men could lead. And they did and still do. He does, although perception of him has twisted, he remains a leader to some and a threat to others. I chose female. Nothing to do with his option. Love transcends gender, even down here. Girls and women alike are the manipulators of this earth. Though it is Man who commands, it can be his mistress who composes the command. You have only to look at my Brothers and see how they were tempted from their place in heaven - a place of infinite beauty and joy - by women and women alone.

So now I serve Lucifer, the Devil, the fallen Angel, with all my heart and soul, and laugh at you who never knew love.

And some more....

Mantheana's picture

OK, on my Gran's wall there is a lovely plaque with a random quote from a little story about the joy of god. I chose to pervert at excerpt in true Booj like fashion. The parts in the quote will be shown in red.

God and Machines

And the lord said:
"My precious, precious child.
Why should you be more than machines? It is all you are. Beautiful and imperfect. From the blood in your veins to the thoughts in your head, I made you. I sculpted your bone and moulded your flesh and gave you eyes to see. Living machines… yes… Machines designed to live. You are my delicate and hateful machines.

When I was the Inventor, I sought to make something of my own. So I made clockworks that Creation had not seen the likes of. But my Universe was far too intricate for you, my little trinkets, and it was then that I carried you. I made a safe little house for you all and called it Earth.

And loving you as I do, I oiled your little joints and sent you on your way. Watched you wander and view Earth with you glass eyes. But even cogs and wheels as masterful as my own are not without their faults. You love to hate do you not?

It is fascinating to watch your little wars and disputes. You passion and your anger and your rights: your excuses to hate and hate and hate.

When you saw only one set of footprints, it was never towards home and warmth and happiness - the love that you own already, but to hate and filth and destruction. Your lust for conquering is what brought you down, and eventually destroyed you… I should know; for during your self inflicted times of trial and suffering, I watched you every step of the way.

Now your faces shines with tears my child… is this not what you wanted to hear? I cannot be held responsible for your fantasies that you repeated as mantras until blood filled your mouths. You ask me questions, I speak the truth. Some divine purpose? Not really. You were prototypes. One step up from my last creation, one step down from the next.

No, I shall not punish you for playing God… you never managed it. The experiments; the cloning, the 'artificial intelligence' - you created equals and betters, but never things to watch… you never made beings with trillions of flaws, just to see how they lived.

Now you are coming to an end… see your tears rust your insides. Your flaws have proved too many… maybe next time I shall consider this more deeply. Time draws on, and you do not.

Hush child, I love you and would never leave you… I shall stay until the end, until your glass eyes shut for the final time, and your mechanisms fail at last, I shall lay your empty body to rest and whisper farewell to your non-existent soul.

Boojy's been at the frikkin' short stories AGAIN :roll:

Tarix Conny's picture

All i can say Booj is use your own words SQUEE!!!! :mrgreen: me lub berry much!!!!

btw, i remeber reading the Lucifer one, i remember you giving me a spoiler, thats the one rite?

Boojy's been at the frikkin' short stories AGAIN :roll:

Mantheana's picture

Urm, hello, seemings as I haven't got any LAbN material, I tohught I'd post you something, just to show I haven't given up on writing altogether.

Although Short stories are my preferred medium, I'm actually working on something a lot longer at the mo. Unfortunately, that means' I can't write anything else until I've finished it because otherwise I KNOW I'll lose interest in it, and I really couldn't deal with wasting all the time it's taken me to write 128 pages so far.

ANYWAY, back to the short story. I wrote this a while back. No idea what the hell i'ts about, but I have a small obsession wiht the desert. (I know, I know, for a goff that's wierd... I mean there's sun in the desert, and I can't be doing with all that tanning.)

Shutting up.


Looking out of my window, all that I can see is the desert. It is all have seen for days, and will see for days in the future. It is hot and dry, but I do not really notice, my mind mulling over the facts and the fiction.

This is the journey I have waited for all my life. I am proud to be travelling swiftly in the desert. I am the only woman here: my only company being the six bearers that carry my sedan over the broken floor. The desert ground is like a burned creature, injured, angered, and yet beautiful in some indescribable way.

I have never been able to describe. They took my voice when I was just born, and I was chosen to take this journey. With knives and stitches they took it, but I don't remember, and so cannot resent it. Nothing remains of that time but my silent whispers and my pretty scar.

Should I have had a voice, I would sing sad shanties as I travel out into the desert, adding to the beauty, if I could. It's true, tears have fallen from my eyes, as I watch the night sky, my tears quench the thirst of the ground, and let the stars sparkle a little more. But they are not tears of bitterness or pain. This is the journey I have been waiting for, the journey of my end.

This journey - my journey - is important. No animals were given to escort me, only men; men with whom I cannot converse. The days and nights are long, and they keep moving, it seems they never stop. Perhaps they do, when I sleep. I think maybe they are magical, but how would I know? One was weak. He stumbled with his share of the load, and the sedan tumbled, I fell about inside.

The weak man was crushed under the weight of the sedan as it fell on top of him, crushing his heart, ribs and spine. I lay upside down until the sedan was righted once more, and the journey began again. The body was left cold and alone, isolated by the forever desert. We left at a steady pace and his body, broken, decayed into the ground, nourishing it temporarily with all that the birds left behind.

My eyes are wide, wide as it is night, and I look about - my face only just emerging from the sedan so that I may see around me. The dark shrouds everything, but with my wide eyes, I can see how even in the dark, the desert stretches infinitely.

Its surface is cracked, like the chapped lips of some great creature, God perhaps. Maybe these lips one day will move, licked by some tongue. What would they say? How would the voice of God echo across this barren land? Would they scream, would they moan, would they sing? Three things I cannot do.

This movement is almost smooth, like the light of the moon as it hangs sadly in the clear sky above. The sound of my carriers feet is no longer something I notice, like the sound of breathing or a heart beat. The world seems silent, the desert is the whole world, the whole of everything, the beginning, the end, just as the journey is my forever.

I don't know where we are going, except that it is where I am meant to be. It calls quietly, in my own voice, a voice that cannot be heard. We draw nearer as time draws on, as the days and nights past. My destiny - almost complete - surrounded by the dead wonder of the desert.


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