He was everything that was wrong with the world and tainted and yet so very
beautiful. The priest didn't look up as he walked in. He was silent, like a
panther, or a demon.
His hair was long and the color of the darkest corners of Hell. Twisted into a weave of some kind, that thumped against his back. His eyes were the color of the ocean. As dark and full as the sea as well, with depths that went deeper than even the deepest waters could go.
The priest was still oblivious. His name was Father White, he was only 28. He was new. He was praying to his God that his first day leading a real mass would go over well. He was so very, enticingly innocent.
The stranger stopped in front of the priest, with his head bowed in prayer, stopped and waited. Finally, as if suddenly aware of a presence beside his own, the Father looked up. At first he was startled. The man in front of him was so beautiful. Not innocent beautiful like a child or sexually beautiful like a model. He was angelic and demonic and perfect and wrong. But the Father was not about to mess up his first time and so he smiled politely and tried not to stare.
Hello, he said.
And the stranger made no answer. And so the priest smiled wider and tried not to feel like, when their eyes met, his soul was suddenly being ripped out and searched and read and memorized.
Can I help you, he asked.
The stranger nodded. When he did, little strands of loose hair, thin and long, bobbed along with him. Some trailing down his neck, others in front of his eyes, some tucked tidily behind his ears.
My name is Mikhail.
The priest waited for him to continue but, before long, the silence reigned so totally that he had to fight to regain control.
Hello, Mikhail. What do you need?
Who is Satan?
The question, asked so suddenly that it almost held force, took the priest by surprise.
Satan?
That bobbing of his beautiful head again.
Satan was God's most prized angel. Highest in rank and loved above all.
The priest was happy to be doing something that he felt comfortable doing.
His name was Lucifer, son of morning. Yet he desired more than he had, he wanted to be God, he wanted to take control. But God stopped him, cast him out. And in rebellion he created Hell so that he could be God's adversary.
The man only nodded, his eyes flashing very suddenly.
Why do you ask such things?
The man looked up, their eyes met, and in those stormy eyes the priest saw temptation. Saw the apple being offered and the fires burning.
Because I know a different story, Mikhail said.
The priest suddenly felt sin. He felt as if he had sinned or had encouraged a sin, he felt the need to drop to his knees in prayer. But he refrained.
What story is that? The priest asked.
Mikhail smiled, his teeth shown beautifully, his eyes glinting darkly.
He turned toward the confession room, walked toward it with long steps. The priest felt obligated to follow. He entered the room almost cautiously, turning to find Mikhail already seated in a chair by the stained-glass window.
Close the door, he said, and sit, and I shall tell you the truth.
Father White did as he was told, and so the story began.
God looked down upon Lucifer, His most loved of all angels. Looked down upon him and realized what He had done. He realized, at one precise moment, that Lucifer was greater than He. That, if not for his binding love, was stronger, more capable than He. Imagine, the creation surpassing its creator. And so it was.
God, though not treating Lucifer any differently, was always cautious. Always aware that eventually that day would come, that day that Lucifer would realize his potential and strength. God gave him things, tasks, to keep his mind off of anything that could potentially lead to that day. Thinking that God loved him more dearly than ever Lucifer was overcome with his own love, his own devotion, for the Highest Father.
He wanted to be like Him, he wanted to love Him more. He wanted to serve his God, his creator, as best as he could. And despite his caution, God was flattered. Once, God allowed Lucifer to come to His throne, the angel nearly swooned, so great was his ecstasy at being so close to his God. And with that he realized that he had to do more for God, he had to. He began gathering his angels to him, angels who followed him and who loved him. He began making plans to make God's newly created world a better, more loving place. God saw this, saw the power that Lucifer had over his fellow angels, and became jealous.
God does not get jealous, Priest White interrupted.
Oh, but He does, Mikhail countered, and He was. God was jealous, jealous and afraid, for He knew that Lucifer was close to reaching that stage where he would realize his full potential. And so God created things on Earth that He knew would enrage Lucifer. Things like death and hate.
WHY!? Why do you DO this? Roared Lucifer one day, this is wrong! Why do you make your own creations suffer as they do?
Because I can, God said, because without it they are living in ecstasy, living with such joy filled hearts that it seems as though they are angels without wings. They are not angels.
You cannot hurt your creations like this! They are beautiful, they are part of all of us! Lucifer cried.
Do not question me, God said, love me and praise me and give me your all. But do not question me.
God would not make us suffer! Father White cried.
But He did and He does, Mikhail said, And then Lucifer wept, I will not let you do this!
It pained God to see His most beloved suffering so, and He made a concession.
When they die, after they live their lives with pain and suffering. If they still remain ecstatic and joy filled then they may join us in heaven, He said.
Pacified for a time Lucifer joined the other angels, once again, in singing God's praise.
Yet soon he saw that the people who suffered lost their joy and their ecstasy, and only those with some sort of emotional or mental disability arrived in heaven.
Once again Lucifer confronted God, with a gathering of all his angelic followers. Which included nearly half of the angelic population. Stop their suffering, Lord, he said, let them be happy.
Do not question me, God said again, or I will cast you out of heaven.
You cannot let them suffer, I will not let you. I love you, my Lord, but you cannot do this.
And so, along with his supporters, he was cast out of heaven. Bitter, upon realizing that his rebellion was the point from the very beginning, Lucifer took up the name of Satan, which is Hebrew for 'adversary'. He loves the mortals, those innocent, beautiful creations of his Lord's. He loves his Lord as well; he just does not believe what He believes in. And so he created Hell. A place made for souls who did not make it into heaven. He teaches them how to be joyful again, by making them forgive what their wretched lives forced them through. And when their souls are free again, they rise, into heaven, and God allows this.
And that is the story of Lucifer, son of Dawn.
No, the priest said, No, that is not it at all. Satan is bad, Satan hates the world.
Mikhail smiled a haunted smiled, his eyes suddenly narrowed and very seductive.
Satan doesn't hate. Satan loves you mortals, the cause of his falling. Satan even loves you. The priest was suddenly pressed back against his chair, face only inches from the pale, smooth face of the stranger.
Father White's eyes grew large, thin brown eyebrows raised to his hairline.
Who are you? He breathed.
The man smiled, brought his mouth to the other's.
I am Mikhail, I am John Doe, I am Satan, I am Lucifer, he spoke against the priest's lips, I am your lover, I am your nightmares, I am your shadow, I am YOU.
And then there was lust and passion and fire. So much fire.
The father awoke with a start. He was confused and hot. Hot all over.
He was in the confession room, kneeling in front of a tall wooden cross. His back hurt and his head was spinning. He stood, was suddenly overcome by dizziness, and sank back down again.
A dream, he thought, a dream of temptation. Sickening.
He closed his eyes; against his eyelids saw the flickering of many candles. Saw a man who was named Mikhail and Satan and Lucifer and Blood and Adversary and every other thing that was ever considered wrong. Saw a beauty and a temptation. The father shivered.
He stood, finally, and headed to the door. Dimly aware that all the light that had been in that room was out, except for one lone candle in the corner.
His hand closed around the knob, twisted and pulled open the door.
Father, came a whisper at his neck, Where are you going?
The priest spun around, glimpsed a predatory smirk that shone white in the flickering light, You can't leave just yet, I've so much more to show you.
His hair was long and the color of the darkest corners of Hell. Twisted into a weave of some kind, that thumped against his back. His eyes were the color of the ocean. As dark and full as the sea as well, with depths that went deeper than even the deepest waters could go.
The priest was still oblivious. His name was Father White, he was only 28. He was new. He was praying to his God that his first day leading a real mass would go over well. He was so very, enticingly innocent.
The stranger stopped in front of the priest, with his head bowed in prayer, stopped and waited. Finally, as if suddenly aware of a presence beside his own, the Father looked up. At first he was startled. The man in front of him was so beautiful. Not innocent beautiful like a child or sexually beautiful like a model. He was angelic and demonic and perfect and wrong. But the Father was not about to mess up his first time and so he smiled politely and tried not to stare.
Hello, he said.
And the stranger made no answer. And so the priest smiled wider and tried not to feel like, when their eyes met, his soul was suddenly being ripped out and searched and read and memorized.
Can I help you, he asked.
The stranger nodded. When he did, little strands of loose hair, thin and long, bobbed along with him. Some trailing down his neck, others in front of his eyes, some tucked tidily behind his ears.
My name is Mikhail.
The priest waited for him to continue but, before long, the silence reigned so totally that he had to fight to regain control.
Hello, Mikhail. What do you need?
Who is Satan?
The question, asked so suddenly that it almost held force, took the priest by surprise.
Satan?
That bobbing of his beautiful head again.
Satan was God's most prized angel. Highest in rank and loved above all.
The priest was happy to be doing something that he felt comfortable doing.
His name was Lucifer, son of morning. Yet he desired more than he had, he wanted to be God, he wanted to take control. But God stopped him, cast him out. And in rebellion he created Hell so that he could be God's adversary.
The man only nodded, his eyes flashing very suddenly.
Why do you ask such things?
The man looked up, their eyes met, and in those stormy eyes the priest saw temptation. Saw the apple being offered and the fires burning.
Because I know a different story, Mikhail said.
The priest suddenly felt sin. He felt as if he had sinned or had encouraged a sin, he felt the need to drop to his knees in prayer. But he refrained.
What story is that? The priest asked.
Mikhail smiled, his teeth shown beautifully, his eyes glinting darkly.
He turned toward the confession room, walked toward it with long steps. The priest felt obligated to follow. He entered the room almost cautiously, turning to find Mikhail already seated in a chair by the stained-glass window.
Close the door, he said, and sit, and I shall tell you the truth.
Father White did as he was told, and so the story began.
God looked down upon Lucifer, His most loved of all angels. Looked down upon him and realized what He had done. He realized, at one precise moment, that Lucifer was greater than He. That, if not for his binding love, was stronger, more capable than He. Imagine, the creation surpassing its creator. And so it was.
God, though not treating Lucifer any differently, was always cautious. Always aware that eventually that day would come, that day that Lucifer would realize his potential and strength. God gave him things, tasks, to keep his mind off of anything that could potentially lead to that day. Thinking that God loved him more dearly than ever Lucifer was overcome with his own love, his own devotion, for the Highest Father.
He wanted to be like Him, he wanted to love Him more. He wanted to serve his God, his creator, as best as he could. And despite his caution, God was flattered. Once, God allowed Lucifer to come to His throne, the angel nearly swooned, so great was his ecstasy at being so close to his God. And with that he realized that he had to do more for God, he had to. He began gathering his angels to him, angels who followed him and who loved him. He began making plans to make God's newly created world a better, more loving place. God saw this, saw the power that Lucifer had over his fellow angels, and became jealous.
God does not get jealous, Priest White interrupted.
Oh, but He does, Mikhail countered, and He was. God was jealous, jealous and afraid, for He knew that Lucifer was close to reaching that stage where he would realize his full potential. And so God created things on Earth that He knew would enrage Lucifer. Things like death and hate.
WHY!? Why do you DO this? Roared Lucifer one day, this is wrong! Why do you make your own creations suffer as they do?
Because I can, God said, because without it they are living in ecstasy, living with such joy filled hearts that it seems as though they are angels without wings. They are not angels.
You cannot hurt your creations like this! They are beautiful, they are part of all of us! Lucifer cried.
Do not question me, God said, love me and praise me and give me your all. But do not question me.
God would not make us suffer! Father White cried.
But He did and He does, Mikhail said, And then Lucifer wept, I will not let you do this!
It pained God to see His most beloved suffering so, and He made a concession.
When they die, after they live their lives with pain and suffering. If they still remain ecstatic and joy filled then they may join us in heaven, He said.
Pacified for a time Lucifer joined the other angels, once again, in singing God's praise.
Yet soon he saw that the people who suffered lost their joy and their ecstasy, and only those with some sort of emotional or mental disability arrived in heaven.
Once again Lucifer confronted God, with a gathering of all his angelic followers. Which included nearly half of the angelic population. Stop their suffering, Lord, he said, let them be happy.
Do not question me, God said again, or I will cast you out of heaven.
You cannot let them suffer, I will not let you. I love you, my Lord, but you cannot do this.
And so, along with his supporters, he was cast out of heaven. Bitter, upon realizing that his rebellion was the point from the very beginning, Lucifer took up the name of Satan, which is Hebrew for 'adversary'. He loves the mortals, those innocent, beautiful creations of his Lord's. He loves his Lord as well; he just does not believe what He believes in. And so he created Hell. A place made for souls who did not make it into heaven. He teaches them how to be joyful again, by making them forgive what their wretched lives forced them through. And when their souls are free again, they rise, into heaven, and God allows this.
And that is the story of Lucifer, son of Dawn.
No, the priest said, No, that is not it at all. Satan is bad, Satan hates the world.
Mikhail smiled a haunted smiled, his eyes suddenly narrowed and very seductive.
Satan doesn't hate. Satan loves you mortals, the cause of his falling. Satan even loves you. The priest was suddenly pressed back against his chair, face only inches from the pale, smooth face of the stranger.
Father White's eyes grew large, thin brown eyebrows raised to his hairline.
Who are you? He breathed.
The man smiled, brought his mouth to the other's.
I am Mikhail, I am John Doe, I am Satan, I am Lucifer, he spoke against the priest's lips, I am your lover, I am your nightmares, I am your shadow, I am YOU.
And then there was lust and passion and fire. So much fire.
The father awoke with a start. He was confused and hot. Hot all over.
He was in the confession room, kneeling in front of a tall wooden cross. His back hurt and his head was spinning. He stood, was suddenly overcome by dizziness, and sank back down again.
A dream, he thought, a dream of temptation. Sickening.
He closed his eyes; against his eyelids saw the flickering of many candles. Saw a man who was named Mikhail and Satan and Lucifer and Blood and Adversary and every other thing that was ever considered wrong. Saw a beauty and a temptation. The father shivered.
He stood, finally, and headed to the door. Dimly aware that all the light that had been in that room was out, except for one lone candle in the corner.
His hand closed around the knob, twisted and pulled open the door.
Father, came a whisper at his neck, Where are you going?
The priest spun around, glimpsed a predatory smirk that shone white in the flickering light, You can't leave just yet, I've so much more to show you.