• "I saw full face of the menstrual Hectate
    Four and forty virgins take the form of the gate
    It is the key inside me it is the glyph of vision
    To have a god within, under the name of Legion"

    Long have the utterings of the damned been my home, my solace in pleasurable casting. Ne'er meant to be lax by "HIS" laws. He was only my creator. Never more will he torment me. Nary his slaves be one to delve into m home to bother me with threats of staying in Damnation, as He saw it, longer than was originally planned. My name, rather the name that your God gave me, is Michael, The name I have earned by my own right, through many situations and nameless, ageless wars and brutal blood-spillings, is Legion Thorne. My story will ne'er end as I am the most perfect creation God, my so-called father, would have ever hope it to be. Perfect based on endless power, infinite wisdom, never-ending intelligence, and a bottomless soul. I can drink a river dry and not burst. I can fast for millions of years and not die. Yes, I am evil based on a blind man's views. Evil has no conception, true conception, of human will, be it. There is no evil. No true evil. I have earned said "evil" title by having done horrid things out of needless desire. The desire to live as I so wish to. Enough of my ramblings. The story of how I cam to be begins now.

    In the book, it was clearly stated that Earth was created in seven days. This is honestly true, as a megalomaniac tab seems to spread each time it's preached. "Earth was created in six days and, on the seventh, 'He' rested." This day was Sunday. But...He began resting on Sunday, lasting until Tuesday. This day, I was born, for the lack of a better term. He used so much energy to create me, in tandem, two being were made. Michael and his twin Lucifer. Lucifer was considered a prize creation, being beautiful, greater, the true morningstar. I was merely an Arch Angel, a warrior, never to decide for myself, weilding a blazing greatsword to entrap the souls of the damned and wicked. I never once questioned my "father". The bible was correct about many occurrences of the elder days, just not any that an intelligent and philosophical mind would think of as truth.

    Lucifer, ever the willing creation, bent of serving his creator. Such was he that did he what I could not for so long. He stepped before our father and asked him in an honestly tone of voice. "Father, why doest thou think me of a lesser being? Can I not be your equal...your finest creation to be at your side instead of beneath your almighty and commanding hands?" For his insulance, he was smoted. Never to be heard of again. Seeing this, I smiled, thinking I would no be favoured. But my ideals died as quickly as my foolish brother had. Instead of looking to me to take my brother's place, the Creator made more like me. More blind than I, more complacent and ne'er questioning. These were truly perfect in the eyes of God. He was never my father, only my facilitator in what I would have to do to stay his terrible hand.

    "O, my father, my glorious creator. What is your bidding, whom is the next ripe for reclamation of damned soul?" Without a word I knew of my next task. I was to kill a father of four, a simple task. The reason I did not was out of logic. The father had not done anything wrong in the present. I was to kill him based on a future sin. The sin of making his sons commit a vile crime. The desecration of their sleeping mother while he watched in self gratification, I hesitated in this act, wond'ring why I was to kill based on a Sin which not happened yet. For doing so, I was chained to the four corners of the father's house while I watched them burn...immolate unto death. What I did was painful to myself, but right in the end. My flesh became charred, scarred to be forever pitch. Never being able to not be seen drove me into insanity. The inane utterings of a mad being, being driven to the very brink of madness by one whom should protect me! IT FILLS ME WITH RAGE! Heh, never again will I try for acceptance.

    The moments passed as if more slowly than sand, filling an endless sea of desolate desert. I searched far and wide for any trace of what I saw as beauty. I did find it, or rather I found her, but that is a story for later on.

    Whispers, the endless whisperings of evil and good. Eternal battles. One side against another. Preachers and blasphemers. All comical in their own right. No one will ever know of the truth of what things really are. The still whisper of nameless fears. One called Satan, The Devil, El Diablo. Lucifer, the once perfect creation. They saw him as the first and only to question God. To vie for power and be greater. ******** fools and their ideologies of righteousness. As long as lies are spewn, though of as truth, I can never stand on my own to correct them. Only I and He knows of the truth. Only my father and I.

    You may think me insane for this crock, as you might say. I swear on my fell soul, I s**t you not. So many idiots choose not to question based on the fear of damnation. Damnation is Life alone. We are all alone. Couples living in wedded bliss. Even still, living with one another, never reaching that true level of mindless, numb-of-mouth thing called marriage. Love...is truly fickle. Once I heard of how happy it was to make someone, I thought I should try my hand in the futility. Countless times I've tried and let them die. Dying because of the fear of what I am. My luck stopped one night. The false prophets birthday....the supposed son of God. The year was 10AD, just a mere ten years after Jesus Christ became a follower of his father's, footsteps. Honest work. I met her at a celebration in Greece. Word had just reached ears of the empire at the time and only one ne'er cheered at the newbourn "savior". Aryana. Just saying her perfect name makes my lips numb with happiness. Such is the beautiful melody of a perfect Aria. Absynthe would ne'er quench my black soul such as her love can. She is one of the only living creatures whom love me for whom I am. The only other few are those whom see me as kin, as a sibling. One sees me as a twin. The other as a blood traitor, still a beloved brother. The last sees me as a confidant and brother as well.These four are the only I ever care for in this Hell called life and reality. Hex, Myst, Kilos, Aryana. These loved people will stay my death by their own hands before thinking of themselves in the least.

    Have you enjoyed my story? Regardless if you have or not, logic says, if you're reading this...you cared enough to see it through, casting aside liking and/or hatred.