Imperium Divinica Illusionaria

Imperium Divinica

            Beware, I am the demon cast from hell for I made the devil quiver, but of demons I know many, were in all I have been worst.  It is of God I see none and cease the search for fear I shall find none.

            An outcast am I, a miscreant of fortune and deed.  Forced to live among mortals, to whom I bring only destitution and death, no good may come from among the ranks of death.  My sin is existence.  I am a curious creation of decadence, the most perfect demon, glorious in pain.  A demon with a conscience, one that can tell right from wrong yet damned to do wrong and be wronged.  One that feels love yet forced to bring them pain no mater what course of action be taken, if any at all, I fail to save them or are the cause.  There is no salvation except that of oblivion, which I await until the end of time.

***

Part of  a cult…  No.  I would rather not be a part of these fools, I need not worship a false Deity or an illusionary evil.  So much simpler to go with what I know; which is I am master of my own delusions, a god of sorts.  You all are but a figment of my imagination, meant to console a tortured being.  Falsifying a bearable existence.  Thus, I need not worship lies.  I shall become them in a splendor with out measure.  I conceive my careful 'truths' seeing all with closed eyes.  I am God of my delusions, a Satan to my lies. Both Creator and Accuser as one.  And in the end I still hold nothing.

* * *

~'Cover my face;

   Their eyes dazzle;

    I died young.' 

* * *

            An assortment of cries reaches me, from outrage to disbelief.  I simply laugh walk to my throne, darkness surrounding all, a broken hilt at my side, a rusted pistol on the other; symbols of my power.  A faded emblem on the dusty old silk glove, loosely plated armor, chipped and scorned; all being illuminated dully by a candle which I lit.  Reaching forward I place it on a small platform coming in to view as the candle draws nearer to it.  Reaching through the darkness still present on the edges of the platform I pull out a twisting Arab dagger, its old glory still visible on the chipped onyx handle and faintly gleaming blade dull with use.  I move the candle over a chalice, no longer concealed in the vulnerable void.  Putting the dagger to my now naked wrist, the sleeve pulled back for the endeavor.  A sigh escapes my lips as I close my eyes lowering my head.  A blurred motion from my dagger, a small grimace and the chalice begins to fill with my acrid blood, the dagger stained crimson still in hand.

            A murmur is heard from beyond the darkness, the flow of blood begins to ebb.  The dagger again does its work, the figure growing visibly weary. Now the chalice over flowed, the bloody limb raised to a fist. The dagger, I once again raise it this time pointing to my heart.  The room is hushed time seeming to stand still.  One ragged thrust…

The room remained silent, some staring with shocked looks others simply sad. I look down at the bloody mess, my body. An odd look crosses my face. I am vexed. Simple confusion. Then I remember it's simply a game no more, no less. For so long I have forgotten started to actually believe. Well its over now isn't it?

~  Indirectly taken from Webster-

Probably makes no sense as it's just a bit of a fic and in all probability still wont make sense even if I ever post the rest, which I might if I ever finish and decide it worthy of others eyes. Tell me what you think if you will. (Even if its just to yell at me for crapyness or shortness)