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The room had no windows, only the electric lanterns spaced randomly around the room to provide reading light. The room was surrounded with books, each book a well of knowledge. In the book covered room sat two men. One - Dr. Francis - looked old, probably in his early forties to late thirties. He wore a plain grey suit that only seemed to add to his age, and a black tie. His hair was a dirty brown color, and his eyes a soft green. The man - Dr. Francis - drummed his fingers on his hip as the other spoke. The other - Jonathan - looked no older than eighteen, sixteen at the least. His ashy-black hair was straight, falling just beyond his ears, and his eyes a deep grey, almost black.
Jonathan tapped his foot, a habit that he had somehow picked up along the way. Some people fiddled with pencils, or twirled their fingers, or shift in their seats, but John tapped his foot. Not now or then at appropriate breaks in conversation, he did it constantly. Someone might consider the idiosyncrasies annoying, but Dr. Francis saw them as clues to Jonathan’s nature. Over the years, the doctor had spoken with quite the number of philosophers, but Jonathan - a seventeen year old - topped them all. His mind was quick, focused, and had a way to twist words. He was brilliant. But that’s not all he was. Dr. Francis knew that there was more to this boy than a quick brain and the knack for placing arguments in ways that at times convinced even him. A brilliant mind indeed. But something else. Something darker.
“Exactly.” Said Dr. Francis, continuing their conversation in a teachers tone. Lecturing, yet somewhat warm. This was a discussion of morals; of questions even the greatest minds had trouble solving. “Can a man step beyond evil’s reach? I think not. Not in this lifetime.”
Dr. Francis turned from a shelf of books to face John. The boy - John - stared at him, a look of twisted amusement upon his face. But why was it there? That’s what puzzled Dr. Francis. Why did this boy have such a twisted look upon his face during such a serious conversation. It’s like the Doctor’s arguments amused him somehow. Like he knew the answers to the questions, yet he still wouldn’t answer them. It was like dangling a carrot in front of a horses nose. And like a horse, Dr. Francis always trotted on, aiming for the carrot that he would never reach.
“Then all men are condemned to evil.” John said, his foot tapping away like a clock, his hands running through his hair. Somehow, these mannerisms intrigued the Doctor. They were hypnotic. Like watching a pendulum swinging back and forth. He was confused, yet somehow mystified by them. His grey eyes stared at him with such intensity. Prying, magnetic, un-pure. Like the eyes of a demon. Shivers ran down the doctor’s spine. No. Not a demon. They didn’t exist. Not in that sense. They existed in temptation. In sin. They possessed humans, they didn’t take the form of them. Angels did that. But, do angels exist?
“A lifetime struggle with evil. Not a life of evil.” Francis corrected, but after long debates about the matter with this brilliant mind made him unsure. John, as Dr. Francis learned, had a way of stripping down your beliefs and turning them inside out.
“So, does man create evil, or it is simply there? Is it an internal choice, or a outside temptation?” John asked in return, though his face somehow said he already knew the answer. He did. He was, indirectly, the exact thing that they were debating about. He was evil. He was temptation at it’s purest. What was he? A demon. A creature who loves manipulating minds. Making people squirm in their seats from his words. Truly an evil man.
“I say it comes from the outside. Desires are brought about by material things, and these are on the outside, not the inside. We are not condemned to be sinful, but it is still impossible to live a life free of sin. No one short of God has ever held the capability.” Francis said, his tone again slipping into his teaching tone. Lecturing. But this time, it was unsure. With John starring up at you with those prying eyes, nothing seems to hold firm. And his rhythmic tapping did nothing but distract him.
“If no one short of God has ever been capable, then temptation must come from the inside. And with that in mind, I can firmly say you’re wrong.” Jonathan said plainly, his tone knowing and sure. He knew the answers to all these questions, but discussing them was interesting. Having a human’s point of view, let alone a pastor’s, helped him see things even more clearly. While to Dr. Francis, John did the exact opposite. He wasn’t helping him see things clearly. He was muddling them up. Taking all his beliefs and turning them on their sides. It was his idea of fun. A twisted fun. But to John there was no other.
“Temptation lives within our veins, searching for a way to the surface. Sin in unavoidable to everyone but God himself. And demons push people to sin. They present temptation at its strongest and make innocence fall.” Jonathan paused to let what he said sink in, the constant tapping of his feet filling up the silence. Dr. Francis’s eyes were full of intrigue, and disbelief. How could this boy be so sure of himself? He was only seventeen for God’s sake. But still, he was confident. He would take his belief to the grave.
- by Floating on Fruit Loops |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 07/18/2009 |
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- Title: The Inevitable
- Artist: Floating on Fruit Loops
- Description: I'm almost dissapointed with this story, for yet again I've failed to actually finish it. I seem to have a problem with finishing stories. I always seem to leave them at cliff hangers. Whatever
- Date: 07/18/2009
- Tags: inevitable
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