SKINTIGHT

A Cal Leandros Novel

GOLDEN BOY

Heaven doesn't want me and Hell's afraid I'll take over.

I read that on a keychain dangling on a rack with many others equally glib or just plain tasteless. Tasteless to humans I had to assume because I didn't understand most of them. I didn't understand the one I slipped into my pocket as I walked away from the rack either, but it caught my eyes all the same. Maybe because Heaven was a word I had just learned and with it the polar opposite of Hell.

Heaven doesn't want me.

The faithful sheep claimed it was paradise. Home to all those pure and virtuous that had perished from their life on Earth. Heaven didn't want me. Blood of the innocent on my hands, the venom of sin in my heart, and deep seeded thoughts of murdering my family dancing through my dreams. Heaven didn't seem like the right place for me, but Heaven also didn't seem too welcoming to any paien. I might have been wrong. I had been before. So I asked a priest.

His flock said he was a good and kind man. He herded his sheep down the righteous path. And I watched him first, like many others. He didn't manipulate or sully his words like the others. He didn't instill the subliminal desire for money into the herds' minds so they bestowed onto him their riches. He believed in his idol of worship. He believed in Heaven. And if it was true and real, Heaven would want him. I watched him before I asked, before I even approached. A monster can never be too careful.

He told me that Heaven would accept me if I absolved myself of my sins. He said Heaven was paradise and it would return to me all that I'd lost. I was a child of God and I could return to His arms.

I tried not to laugh at him; I'd learned that was rude.

Heaven didn't want me, but Hell did. Hell wanted me within its cold gray walls. Hell embraced me with claws and fetid anticipation. Hell didn't fear me taking over. It pleaded for me to take the throne. They demanded it, waited for it. I told the priest those very thoughts and many more that caused his tranquil expression to darken green with disgust and judgment he had been trying so hard to contain. I thanked him all the same for his time and the knowledge he shared. I appreciated the knowledge. They wanted me to obtain it. As much as I could. I left him casting prayers at my back, cursing the demons hounding me and pleading for my salvation.

He didn't know I wasn't a child of God. I was a child of Hell. A fallen angel and a seething demon. A plague to humanity. I took with me the stolen keychain and a bible that still smelled of printer ink as I left his house of worship. They would have been unhappy that I left the priest on his knees breathing and well, but I felt no need to kill him. He served a purpose and I might need to ask him questions again some day. He didn't call me thief when I took his book and didn't stop me, perhaps he hoped the scripture would save my battered soul. If one even existed within.

I read through the book several times until the spine cracked and the pages smelled less like ink and more like shadows. I was curious for information and needed to expand my knowledge of the humans as They demanded. I didn't understand much of it. The words were heavy and the prose bogged down with confusing imagery and lecture unnecessary to make its point. But more than that I didn't understand why some of it made sense.

Monsters shouldn't agree with the virtues of God –an entity that shouldn't exist in a world as cold and torn and used as Earth. Monsters shouldn't want to enter Heaven to have that which was lost returned to them. A softly sung melody, warm, low, and comforting. A firm grip to the nape of the neck and the sensation of protection. Laughter…it echoed in my head like a ballad. Nothing like Their laughter. I knew what I wanted returned, but They didn't.

They watched me read and learn and They applauded my ambition. I asked for more and They gave it. Their own history, or what little They knew of it, and the great expanse of knowledge They had of the world. At a certain age They brought me to this realm, sequester me away from the world I was trying to learn of. Then teachers. Many, many teachers, none of which were given long to teach. I learned from those teachers, paien and human alike, then killed them when commanded. Quickly, if allowed. Just because there was no Heaven for me didn't mean I had to deny it to others.

Heaven didn't want me and Hell was afraid I'd take over.

Well, right now I was Hell's Golden Boy. Right now, Hell thought me the perfect next king, but the more I learned of Earth and the paien and humans residing on the surface the more I felt the sins bubble within. The more I didn't want to lift my hand to strike, the more I resisted and took my punishment with sick satisfaction, the more I desired deeper effects of the heart, heat and head. I wanted it all; everything I learned I wanted as mine and found I couldn't take what wasn't physical. Yet I still wanted it and not from Them.

I could best Them one day. I felt one day the blood on my hands would be Theirs. It was a comforting thought. I would be king of Hell. Just as They wanted. Just as They would regret.