Untitled... Part Two

Abel watched Cain disappear into the crowd unhappily. He hadn't expected such resistance from his little brother. But then, Cain had changed a lot since the last time he had seen him. Abel sighed, and reached out to Astel, the demon his father had lent him for the journey. He hadn't expected there to be any trouble, but like his father said, with Cain you could never be to sure. Bastard was unpredictable, powerful and too damn nice for his own good. That was what frustrated Abel the most about him - he could never understand why Cain did anything. it was why he had to be banished in the first place.
-Astel, you there?-
-Yo. Wudup?-
Abel resisted the urge to strangle Astel for that. Ever since they'd come here, he'd been trying to 'blend,' which he was failing miserably at, and which also meant he used some form of almost incomprehensible syntax and dressed appallingly, with jeans that somehow only came to his knees and shirts he drowned in. Abel had, he felt with remarkable restraint, refrained from making too many disparaging remarks.
- I need you to find out where Cain is staying-
-Sure thing bossman. Done deal. There a prob?-
-Cain just needs a little more persuading...-
-Ayt. Hey, while you're busy persuading, can I hook up with that piece you had earlier? She was a sweet looking thing-
-Focus on what you need to do Aster. There will be time for entertainment after-
-You seem pretty able to multitask. I saw you trying to play tonsil hockey with her-
-Aster. I'm asking nicely. Besides,  have a plan for that particular sweet little thing-
Aster felt a shiver of fear at Abel's tone. But he was annoyed that Abel wouldn't let him play, so he pushed perhaps to far. Abel was his boss after all, and you did not wanna mess with his daddy. Hell, when it came down to it, you didn't wanna mess with Abel either. He was a mean bastard. And he held a grudge like nobody's business. Aster had actually been surprised when Abel had agreed to his father's request to bring Cain back. Abel hated the poor sod with a passion that was almost holy. He also felt a little sorry for the poor girl Abel had kissed. She was a pretty little thing after all. Aster shrugged philosophically and went back to watching Cain in his mind from the house he and Abel had rented. Crowds made Aster uncomfortable, and he generally preferred solitude, which is why he had stayed behind when Abel had left that morning to go find Cain. But he hadn't missed anything. One of his more minor talents was that he could see anywhere in the world, and view any scene, if he cast his mind out, which was, in his eyes, a decidedly useful little talent to have. Made spying a breeze. He didn't particularly approve of what Abel was doing, but you really really didn't want to annoy him. So he shut his mouth and made himself useful, watching as Cain went to class after class, wandered around and kept to himself. He didn't talk to anybody or even make eye contact with anybody. Astel thought this was rather odd, as far as he could tell, everybody else there was with at least one person at all times. Except for a few people, of whom Cain was one, everybody seemed to have friends. Out of curiosity, he idly watched Abel, to see what he was doing. To his surprise, he found him talking to the girl from earlier. He was seducing for all he was worth - being charming and sophisticated and mysterious and oozing that combination of intelligence, humor, power and danger that the women of Court had found utterly irresistible. It seemed to work exactly the same on mortal girls. Aster rolled hos eyes and sighed, missing the warmth of the home he left behind when Abel's father had assigned him this position. He didn't particularly like the human world, but what could you do? You didn't just ignore the king of hell. he had ways of making life unpleasant in ways even the religious nuts populating this plane could imagine.
Bored, Aster went back to looking for Cain. he disliked the word 'spying,' and preferred to think f it as 'information gathering,' but even so, he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty about what he was doing. He had always liked Cain, had respected him, even after the banishment, for facing his betrayal and exile with such strength. He should have had the throne, by right of birth and arms, but his father and Abel had always hated him. So he was doomed from the day his mark had appeared. The Eron Aisark, the Mark of the Beast appeared on the body of the one next marked for kingship. But Abel hadn't liked that at all, and had made it his mission to destroy his brother. he had fund the way to do it as well, with the Trials. Cain had been set up to fail, because he wouldn't kill Abel, and Abel knew it, exploited it, and gotten Cain banished for the last thousand years because of it. But now they needed him. It was unbelievable, the depths to which that family would sink to get what they wanted. And now they wanted Cain. And god help that poor child... Aster swallowed his guilt and went back to gathering intelligence for the Prince of Hell.

Abstract Remedies

Fractured thoughts are drifting through my tired brain right now... This post serves no real purpose other than to transform my mundane musings into something ghastly and pretentious that you would have to read through were you an avid follower of my work, of which you are not, so I will make no apology for the atrocity I'm about to commit. Disjointed meanderings drift on silent dreams as we sit in silence oddly transfixed by the mundane reality that is every day life. Disassociation from reality is oddly obscure a phrase to pursue when so much is happening in my life. Yet it is strangely apt when most, if not all of it, is happening in my head. Right now, since examinations have ceased, I have very little going on in my life. Less than I wish I had. I have family down, so I have some mild entertainment, but at the same time, my life in and of itself is lacking and unfulfilled. I'm highly disillusioned by the state of humanity at this current moment in time. I sometimes despise humanity. In particular, the male half of the human population disgusts me at times. Not all of them are complete cads, but the ones I end up knowing are. maybe its not them. Do I perhaps ooze some kind of scent that just attracts the douchiest of creatures? or is it perhaps some kind of genetic defect that makes me somehow seek out the worst degenerates that exist and then makes me unable to give them up as lost causes.

Sigh... I had such high hopes for the beginning of this post. it seemed just what i needed to regain my old creativity, but the teenage mind is a frustrating thing, and estrogen rarely helps to remedy the problem. So I will post this, because I'm not interested enough to attempt to save it, and i went to all the trouble of actually typing out this piece of what I will now classify as drivel.

Oh well... the time will come when I seek to create again. perhaps then i can begin to put down the series of fragments that lurk in my effervescent brain. I say effervescent, I really mean flighty and inattentive.

Untitled... Part One

He stared at her from out the shadows as she sat there, across the room, oblivious to everything and everyone around her. She couldn't see him, but he saw her, every day he waited for the glorious moment when she walked through the door and he could watch her again, for just a few more minutes, while she sat there, oblivious to the world around her, oblivious to him... Strangely though he didn't mind that she didn't know he existed. that was part of her charm - her innocence as she curled up in one of the chairs in the library with her headphones on, one delicate leg hanging down, swaying in time to the music only she could hear, from the earphones she kept hidden under the mass of dark hair that curled around her. The sight of that little rebellion, that hidden disobedience of the rules that said "no cellphones", for some reason that sight enchanted him and drove him wild for her... Not that he would ever touch her of course - she was pure and beautiful and desirable, and he was a killer. A freakish anomaly with far too much blood on his hands and horrible memories hidden behind icy eyes... those eyes only ever softened when he saw her, when he watched her for that brief time while she lay there, entranced by the worlds in the worn out pages of her old books. Every day it was a new one - with dusty, faded covers full of magic and dragons and wonders and love and sorrow. She had read so much that he had, but then, he had been around for a long, long time... But she merely loved to read. He could see it in the way she caressed the pages softly, as though each book was like a lover she longed for. He dreamed that she would touch him like that, sometimes at night when the nightmares became to much and all he wanted to do was weep from the pain and hide from the choking fear of his memories... She was the safe haven in his mind, the anchor that kept him alive... and she didn't even know he was alive... He wanted to curse at the gods for the frustration of it, that this beautiful creature would never know him, and never know that she had saved his life...

Where is she? he wondered, glancing at the time. She was late. She had never been late before. He could feel himself getting antsy, impatient. He glanced at the time again then then quickly back at the door, just in case she had come in and he had missed her. But the doorway was empty, and so was her chair. He looked at the clock again, and saw that her time was up... By now if she hadn't come in, she wouldn't. this was the time she usually left. frowning angrily, he leaped up and slammed his books into his bag, glaring at them as though they had mortally offended him. Where the hell could she be? She was always here. Always. He strode out of the library, muttering darkly to himself, before freezing, mid-step, as a terrifying thought struck him. What if something had happened to her...? His heart clenched at the idea... She was just busy, he thought frantically, as his feet started to move again. Or she had to do something with a lecturer, or she had an assignment due... Yes, that was it. She was fine.

Looking for her was going to be a nightmare though, because try as he might, he could not reassure himself that she was okay. He wasn't terrified yet but he could feel it growing, at the edge of his mind... A premonition born of a sense honed over thousands of years told him that much, that something was coming...

He stormed out of the library, scanning the crowds of teenagers and twenty-somethings milling around alone or in their groups, listening to the murmurs of inconsequential conversation, hoping for a mention, a whisper, a stray thought that would help him locate her in this seething mass of humanity. There was nothing though, nothing to tell him that she was safe, to warn him of any dangers, though each of his senses was screaming it at him. He felt sick, dizzy, his head was throbbing and his heart pounding. He lurched through the crowd, shoving blindly at those who got in his way, as a cold sweat started over his entire body. Then several things happened at once. His eyes fell on the girl he had watched and adored from hidden shadows for so many months, wrapped in the arms of another man, with laughing eyes and affection in the smile he had worshiped, and then met the eyes of the man who held her... Bright green eyes met their mirror and he stumbled back, shocked, confused. The man with his hands on her looked at him, a vague smile playing on his lips. "No..." He spoke the words, a frantic denial of what his eyes could see but his mind rejected.

Before him, holding the woman he adored was a man he had thought to never ever see again, had not seen since his banishment for defying their father and refusing the throne that was his by birth, but not blood. Abel smiled at him and ran his fingers down her arm, daring him to protest as he watched mutely, locked in place by shock, confusion, horror... Why the fuck is he here? What could have happened that would bring the heir apparent here, of all places, here... Why now, why her? What is my family playing at?

Cain glared at him, frustrated, angry, but with a deep sense of growing trepidation, this won't be good, he thought as he watched Abel kiss her lightly on her cheek, in goodbye, and walk towards him. Through the flames that had sprung up in his mind, he could see the self-satisfied smirk his brother had always worn when he had beat him, the same smirk he wore when Cain was stripped of his titles and banished from the lands, upon pain of death should he ever again make contact with the rest of his family... he had not seen his mother or his baby sister in so many years...

She stared at them curiously for a few moments, before turning, distracted by the call of friends she quickly joined, on the way to the grounds - the large, grassy series of hills that edged the campus. Cain watched her leave, his mind blank as Abel watched him, smiling serenely all the while. "Hey bro. Long time," he said, the first words any of his blood had spoken to him in almost a thousand years. Cain wanted to laugh at the ignominy of it, that his flesh could treat him so indifferently, so callously, and that he could still be hurt by it. A thousand years of rejection clearly hadn't taught him a single thing, he thought bitterly, saying nothing. Abel smiled at him, "So what you been up to?" Cain glared at him stonily and Abel sighed. "You know, I'd have thought you put all that business behind you, but it seems you still haven't learned a single thing." He ran his fingers through the ink dark hair that fell into his eyes, the only difference between him  and his younger brother, his mirror image. Light and dark, he thought ruefully, glancing at the messy shock of snow white that veiled Cain's burning green eyes, the gold in them turned icy and dark. "Look Cain, father wants you to come back to Court - there's been some... developments... that need taking care off, with and old friend of yours. And mother misses you... We all miss you..."
"Then you shouldn't have banished me." The words slipped out before Cain could stop them, childish angry words, filled with pain and sorrow and loneliness. "Besides, you wouldn't give a fuck about me anymore if you didn't need my help. So go back to Court and tell our father he can go fuck himself. I'm not interested in helping him." He ground the words out, staring straight at Abel as he uttered a complete lie. He longed to return home, home, to see his mother again... to feel her arms around him once more, telling him it would be okay, comforting him, as though he were again a child... But he crushed the childish dream as he stared into his brother's green gold eyes.

Abel looked at him steadily, unmoved by his outburst. "Fine," he said coolly, "but I hope you realise I'm not leaving without you. And I'm a lot stronger than you Cain."
"If that's true, then why are you here, in this place, begging me for help?"
Abel ran his hands through his hair, frustrated, and glanced around, "This isn't exactly the safest of places to be discussing this Cain."
Cain laughed. "It's university. There is nowhere in the universe where you can be more anonymous that at a  university. This place is a thing of beauty, even more indifferent to you that the Lords of Court." He was right he knew, but he and Abel were attracting a far amount of interest, particularly from the female population that surrounded them. It was undeniable, Abel was attracting a lot of attention, but then he always did. Cain looked at his brother critically. Bastard still looked like a fallen angel, all raven hair and green eyes, with the face of a poet's dream and the body of a warrior, tall and lean, he drew every eye in a room - had since he had come of age more than a thousand years ago, and time had only streamlined him, hardened his fine boned features and giving him an aura of power he wore like a mantle. And he used it - he used his looks and charm to worm his way into the favor of the Court, and conspired to get his brother banished. Abel looked at Cain strangely, "You've changed brother. You were not so cold the last time we spoke."
Cain laughed, a short, ugly sound, "The last time we spoke, brother, you arranged with our father to have me fail the Trials, so I would be banished, as the one who failed. All because our dear father wanted you to inherit, and not me. And the richest of these ironies? I didn't even want the fucking throne. I had no intention of ever taking it. Now if you don't mind, I've got classes to go to. And if you do mind, I don't give a damn, because I'm leaving. I want you gone by nightfall. Run back to our father and tell him Cain said he can go to hell." He meant it figuratively of course. Technically speaking, his father was already in hell. He was the goddamned King of hell. And Cain... well Cain was the fallen prince... Brother to the Prince of Hell and banished forever from his fiery home.

                                                                         
--- just something I randomly started typing. I think I                                                                                                                                                   might continue it. I don't know. It doesn't seem too terrible.

Just Try...

To live your life with honour and courage, to never give up, to be proud of whom you are and what you’ve accomplished. Take pride in yourself and in those that are important to you, and never stop showing the people who matter just how important they are to you. Always try new things, and never be caught up in monotony. Constantly change your life and reinvent yourself. Join clubs, try new things, and let yourself go every once in a while. Laugh every single day of your life, no matter how hard things are, and never forget the important things are the little ones. The moments in time that are fleeting and constant and eternal: the things that make you smile every day are the ones that you hold on too.

Always work hard, and when you can’t give off your best, give of as close to as you can. You can’t be the best at everything all the time, and you will mess up sometimes. It’s okay to fail, so long as when you do, you don’t get suicidal. Just try again and come up with a better plan. For you more than anyone, achievement will always be important, and so will money. You don’t need to own the whole world, just a small piece of it. Doesn’t matter where it is, just make it worth every tear, every pain, every smile, every late night. Never settle on what you want and never compromise on who you are. Always be real.

Learn to stop holding grudges, forgive and start thinking before you open your mouth. In the world we live in, bending is better than breaking and you’ve broken before. Build something worth remembering and change as many lives as you can before you die. Never stop believing in the power of words and never stop writing. It’s your greatest talent.

Always look at life as a journey, and never stop moving forward. Never stop learning and never be satisfied with what you have. Be happy with it, and always work to keep it, to improve it. You are not mediocre. You are not average. You’ve got a brain. Always use it. Never believe a fact unless you’ve checked it and never let another influence your opinion or own you. Keep your own counsel and speak your mind only when it is necessary. Observe. Learn. And keep your mind sound. Always rely on yourself first but never forget the power of unity.

Always try. Be it another way, a different idea, another tactic. Have courage. Believe in yourself, your judgement, your dreams and your ideals. Never forget, no matter how hard it is, just:

Try 

Have You Ever...

Have you ever…

Have you ever been what I’ve been?

Seen what I’ve seen?

You may pretend to understand what I am,

Yet you have no idea.

You judge me,

Though you do not know me,

You have no idea what I’m about.

Have you ever had spiders put in your bed, knowing it will happen again and again?

Have you ever had a gun held to your head, a single bullet made of lead,

The trigger pulled over again? Never knowing if you’ll be dead?

A sick game played again and again?

Have you ever been beaten so bloody and bad you don’t even know your very own name?

You’ll do anything to stop the pain?

Been locked in a tiny cupboard for days on end,

Living in total darkness, hunger and dread?

Where you long for the days he’d get drunk and sleep,

Knowing when he wakes up its back to work.

Ever been sold in the street to pay for his fix?

Ever made time in a hospital choking on your own blood?

Had him set his rabid dogs on you?

Had him let his friends have you?

Ever been violated in every way known to man?                                           

Your spirit only broken a few thousand times...

Suffered every degradation and humiliation,

From a sadistic bastard with a sick imagination?

Have you ever spent your nights on the street,

Working the corners or you’ll get beat?

You know the man – he’s my dad

The one who does all these things to me.

The man who raised me to be me

The sick bastard who treated me so

So what if I killed him?

He deserved to go.

So don’t try to understand me,

Make me see the error of my ways.

Don’t judge me – you don’t have that right.

You’ve never been what I’ve been, seen what I’ve seen.

So put me in jail and throw away the key

Take away my right to be free

Call me insane, maybe it’s true

But I fought back see, I killed them all too.

I got my revenge, put my life right

I’ve lived such a life… fear and dread

Pain and rage and helpless humiliation

Every kind of torture you could put a girl through.

Believe me, I’ve lived it, day in…day out

So I broke the cycle. I got out.

I’ve lived such a life for my young age…

You can’t begin to understand so just put me in a cage

So throw me in jail, punish me.

I killed the people who tried to kill me.

Arrival from Death

I killed, I hated I raped, I kidnapped.

I’ve done things to haunt death’s nightmares

I am the Master of Death, all bow before me

I’ve died and slayed with my sword do slaughter all

Mindlessly like cattle at an abattoir

I fight battles internal and out

I am a mercenary of Death, I come on his wings

Bearing his weapons

The weapons that fear and are feared by all

Death, my weapon, blood my wine, virgins my feast

And misery my music

Creature of the night I am

Denizens of the deep I call

Creature of the light I was

Until I took my fall

No chance to save me, all do hate me

I cannot love, am empty inside

Full only of rage at those who created me

You. The reason I am, the reason I be, the reason I do

I wreak my vengeance on all of you

One day you’ll see

You’ll see the sick side of society

I am the first, wont be the last, my parting gift to you

You know me yet you don’t

You wont catch me, you’ve already killed me

So my revenge. My will to which you will bow

You. The benefactors of my will. I would enjoy killing you

But for now I will wait. For now

You are safe

For now…  

This is a poem I wrote when I was very young. It amuses me to show it to people now...

Angel of Death

I see them the faces, the places, the unending places, the terror and murder and the blood, all the blood.

There’s blood on my hands, blood everywhere, blue, green, red blood, always death and destruction, misery and torment.

The seduction of the blood, of the power of the glove.

The hand of evil, the hand of death, shall I cast in my fate with the rest?

I am a murderer most foul; I wear a robe, a sword, a cowl.

I am the angel of death, the most powerful of all, could I even begin to fight it at all?

Oh, the faces the places the unending traces; the traces of good and evil, their faces I see in the night, the unending night.

Should I cast in my lot with evil or good, the mark of the beast or the dove bearing peace?

Should I, would I, can I do so?

Do I have the courage to do so?

To love and lose, to loose a love, can the truth be so?

What to do, suffocatingly true.

Death is the only escape. Suicidal thoughts fill me, consume me, kill me slowly.

No hope, none, but for one.

Do I dare?

Show me the way; give me a chance, a hope, a thought.

To save me, keep me: but no, no chance, no hope.

For the faces, the places and blood on my hands kill me unendingly, letting it end.

I cry out with my final breath, no chance to fight back,

No chance against death.