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{"The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve,
Now, is the very witching hour of the night,
When churchyards yawn, and Hell itself breathes out."
- Shakespeare A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM}
{Samuel Clemens, ghost and last survivor of Roland's epic journey, here.
His strange Lakota blood brings to life what he writes. He has written his hero, Samuel McCord, into Hell.
In an attempt to undo what he has unwittingly done, Roland has entered Hell despite my pleas. He is not alone long.
Tall and mocking, DayStar who claims to be the devil himself, has walked beside Roland.
Let Roland's words from his charred journal tell the rest ....}
DayStar swept his arm in a wide arc and laughed in the sounds of breaking bones.
"Look around you, primate. Absolutely breath-taking in its scope and power is it not?"
The living shadows parted from his face just enough for me to catch one mocking gray eye.
"All you see shaped by the hand of Elohim. In one fluid, majestic stroke. You have to love him. Literally. If not, he sends you here."
DayStar smiled like a wolf at me. I could barely stand from the hurricane's sand-filled winds.
DayStar's Armani clothes weren't even wrinkled. His tie hung down calm and unruffled,
his satin jacket flowed from his wide shoulders gentle and untouched like he was a manikin in a store front window. I guessed ruling here had its perks.
His face grew longer, less human. "Not so you would notice, mammal."
The horse screamed in agony again. To Hell with DayStar. Literally. I had to help the poor thing.
Disgust etched his features as he shook his head at me.
"There is no way you can hope to enter through that ruptured wall to rescue that pathetic creature."
His smile flashed like a knife from the shadows caressing his face.
"The last time that wall was breached was two thousand years ago. And he was perfect. Are you?"
I wondered if I drew him diagrams if I could get him to leave me alone.
"If I promise to miss you, will you leave?"
He sighed disappointedly. "You cannot possibly be that dense."
"You can have hounded me all my life and ask me that?"
"You are hardly that important that I would make it a point to hound you all your life."
"Not so I would notice."
His thin lips sneered. "What you do not notice would fill more volumes than a library could hold."
"When you're right, you're right."
His left eyebrow arched. "Be careful when you agree with me."
"You're asking a man who's jumped into the fire to be careful? Sorta like that proverbial barn door, isn't it?"
He smiled wider.
"You are in Hell of your own freewill. A living soul in perdition.
Your lifespan here will not be long.
But since you chose this place freely, Hell will not release your soul."
The shadows around his face parted to show the smile of a shark. "Ever."
***
Now, is the very witching hour of the night,
When churchyards yawn, and Hell itself breathes out."
- Shakespeare A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM}
{Samuel Clemens, ghost and last survivor of Roland's epic journey, here.
His strange Lakota blood brings to life what he writes. He has written his hero, Samuel McCord, into Hell.
In an attempt to undo what he has unwittingly done, Roland has entered Hell despite my pleas. He is not alone long.
Tall and mocking, DayStar who claims to be the devil himself, has walked beside Roland.
Let Roland's words from his charred journal tell the rest ....}
DayStar swept his arm in a wide arc and laughed in the sounds of breaking bones.
"Look around you, primate. Absolutely breath-taking in its scope and power is it not?"
The living shadows parted from his face just enough for me to catch one mocking gray eye.
"All you see shaped by the hand of Elohim. In one fluid, majestic stroke. You have to love him. Literally. If not, he sends you here."
DayStar smiled like a wolf at me. I could barely stand from the hurricane's sand-filled winds.
DayStar's Armani clothes weren't even wrinkled. His tie hung down calm and unruffled,
his satin jacket flowed from his wide shoulders gentle and untouched like he was a manikin in a store front window. I guessed ruling here had its perks.
His face grew longer, less human. "Not so you would notice, mammal."
The horse screamed in agony again. To Hell with DayStar. Literally. I had to help the poor thing.
Disgust etched his features as he shook his head at me.
"There is no way you can hope to enter through that ruptured wall to rescue that pathetic creature."
His smile flashed like a knife from the shadows caressing his face.
"The last time that wall was breached was two thousand years ago. And he was perfect. Are you?"
I wondered if I drew him diagrams if I could get him to leave me alone.
"If I promise to miss you, will you leave?"
He sighed disappointedly. "You cannot possibly be that dense."
"You can have hounded me all my life and ask me that?"
"You are hardly that important that I would make it a point to hound you all your life."
"Not so I would notice."
His thin lips sneered. "What you do not notice would fill more volumes than a library could hold."
"When you're right, you're right."
His left eyebrow arched. "Be careful when you agree with me."
"You're asking a man who's jumped into the fire to be careful? Sorta like that proverbial barn door, isn't it?"
He smiled wider.
"You are in Hell of your own freewill. A living soul in perdition.
Your lifespan here will not be long.
But since you chose this place freely, Hell will not release your soul."
The shadows around his face parted to show the smile of a shark. "Ever."
***
Very cool, Roland. Poor horsie.
ReplyDeleteThere is definitely something about Roland that intrigues DayStar. Otherwise he wouldn't take such an interest in him.
ReplyDeleteI really hope someone is able to help the horse. Unless it's a trap....
I just love the atmosphere you're creating.....wow.
I'm also very curious about DayStar's actual face....
I want to see his face also.
ReplyDeleteEver? Oh no!
ReplyDelete~ that rebel, Olivia