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Purgatory - Public Submission - turn 3

 
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[Syl]
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PostPosted: Wed Sep 10, 2008 5:45 pm    Post subject: Purgatory - Public Submission - turn 3 Reply with quote

Deadline September 19th.
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"It is not the literal past that rules us, save, possibly, in a biological sense. It is images of the past. Each new historical era mirrors itself in the picture and active mythology of its past or of a past borrowed from other cultures. It tests its sense of identity, of regress or new achievement against that past.”
-George Steiner


Last edited by [Syl] on Mon Sep 22, 2008 2:05 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Alek
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PostPosted: Tue Sep 16, 2008 11:52 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

What's with those three handicapped guys who keep following me around? Well, they need to move.

"Hi, guys. Thanks for coming. Let me know if you need anything. But do me a favor... We need to move some tables and chairs here for tonight's meeting. Could you move over by that Yew? Thanks."


...later...


"Thank you all for coming to yet another meeting. I'm rather amazed that some folks have already grown too bored with these gatherings, and are no longer coming. Some have been in Hell for millennia. Some feeling horrendous pain the whole time. I'm very saddened to learn that my speaking style is so bad that, after a few meetings, I'm already an unworthy distraction.

"So, on to it. These two... well, let's just call all of us 'people.' Is that okay? Many beings from many planes or reality and many planets call themselves what may as well translate as 'people' in my language. Our shape doesn't matter. So, this man and woman are the ones who have learned the most of what I teach. For different reasons, they were able to see it most easily. They will be teaching classes of their own, and helping me answer the many questions that some of you have after meetings and classes. May I present Raesh (indicating the woman) and Wan (the man)."
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When your life is filled with Love, ...uh... it's a pretty neat thing.
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Iblis
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PostPosted: Fri Sep 19, 2008 3:23 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

The spire and turrets of Gehenna
climbing now to the tumultuous sky on every side,
Iblis, once fallen and alone, now risen,
gazes on the wakening world that is his domain.

Bearing witness to the weary souls as they toil
across the ever-changing landscape of strange design,
swears once more that he will divert them from the straight path of the Presence
and free them no matter the consequences.

Throwing back his head, he gazes impatiently at the sky,
awaiting the return of his Herald.
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Now because You have led me astray, I shall surely sit in ambush for them on Your straight path.
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Niggle
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PostPosted: Sat Sep 20, 2008 1:09 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

The storm of psalms passed, Niggle turned her attention to the road. Behind her lay the forest from whence she just came. Ahead an empty road, but who knew what lay beyond the next bend in its path?

A sound behind her made her look back towards the forest again. There, unlooked for and totally unexpected, where the three silent Ones she had left behind in the glade. She gazed at each with puzzlement in her eyes, and as she gazed they each inclined their head towards her, but said not a word.

Shrugging her shoulders ever so slightly, Niggle turned forward on the road once more. And yet another sound stopped her and made her look back. This time she was surprised to not see more figures upon the road. But she sensed a presence, no make that several presences, stalking her from within the trees. However, nothing further showed itself, and Niggle finally strode forth along the road.
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Who knows where madness lies?
To surrender Dreams, this may be madness, to seek treasure where there is only trash?
Too much sanity may be madness! But maddest of all is to see life as it is, and not how it should be!
~ Cervantes
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Metatron
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PostPosted: Sat Sep 20, 2008 4:41 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Metatron and Leviathan walked along the river, through the brown and gray forest. Ash filled the air and the land was colorless. The smell of sulfur wafed through the air and Metatron found its stench to be suffocating. The dog kept her distance from the river, seeming to dislike the water. She glanced at it anxiously as she made her way through the barbed thickets and tall, brown grass. Metatrons' three companions followed close behind him, never saying a word or making a gesture. They were as walking statues, reacting to nothing.

The angel and the demon walked mostly in silence. Metatron was content to give Leviathan his time and space. It was his duty to bring the Creator's forgiveness to Her creation. It was Leviathan's duty to repent to his Diety. Metatron could not force the issue.

Finally, Leviathan broke the silence. "Why are you here, Metatron?"

"You know why," Metatron replied simply.

Leviathan did not appear to like this answer and scowled somewhat a Metatron's calmness. Actually, Metatron was somewhat surprised by the question. Wasn't it obvious why he was there? Couldn't Leviathan see his purpose?

"Your amulet," Leviathan began. He paused. "It makes me uncomfortable."

"No cause," Metatron replied and gazed into the river as they walked.

Again, Leviathan seemed to dislike this answer and sighed a little with slight frustration. Metatron smiled to himself and continued to gaze at the water.

As they continued to walk, Metatron became somewhat entranced by the river. The sound of the water rushing through the forest, over the rocks and splashing against the edge had a hypnotic effect on him. It was peaceful and he wanted to stop and gaze into the water and never stop. As he toyed with this fantasy, he began to hear sounds, music, singing, although it escaped his ears. It was not like the music before. This was different. Just when he thought he could catch the sound, it danced away from his sense.

Metatron continued to walk, Leviathan silent by his side, but he was concentrating on the singing. Finally, he grasped the song and realized it was coming from the river. He stopped in his tracks, his party stopping with him. He moved toward the edge of the river and gazed in. There! No, not there. There! He saw movement within the rushing of the water and the singing beckoned him closer. He stepped to the very edge and saw a woman deep within the depths of the river, singing to him and reaching her hand to him. He replied with his stretched out hand to grasp her, so beckoning was her song. Suddenly, she grabbed his wrist and her strength was enough to pull him into the river. It was icy cold - so cold Metatron briefly wondered at how it could not be frozen. He realized her song was not one of beckoning but of lament. It was a low moaning wail of desperation for aid. Suddenly, another hand grasped Metatron's other wrist, dragging him further into the frigid river. He began to struggle against the current of the water, now at his knees.

Soon, Metatron was surrounded by people - souls of the departed who must spend eternity in this watery grave, never being able to gasp for air, never being warm and dry, bodies battered by the never ending pounding of the water. They began to grab at his legs and arms and waist, pulling him toward them, begging and screaming for release from their pain. All crying, all moaning, all grabbing and tearing at him.

Metatron wanted to help them all. They all needed him so desperately, wanted so much to be saved. But it had been too late for them. Underlying their pain, Metatron could sense the ill that came from them. They had been corrupted in life and that corruption clung to them like sweat. These were not souls who desired forgiveness. They were just desperate for release from their torment. Realizing this, Metatron began to struggle to get away. He pulled at his arms and feet, leaning away from the crowd.

"Release me!" he demanded but they ignored him. Struggling, Metatron began to panic. He was not strong enough to get away on his own. He heard the dog barking right behind him. Snarling, she jumped into the water and began to bite and tear at the souls that held fast to him. She bit only water and her efforts did nothing but confuse things all the more.

Struggling with all his strength, Metatron turned to look at Leviathan for aid. What he saw gave him no pleasure. Leviathan was smiling. His eyes had turned red and behind his face, a struggle of his own ensued. Leviathan seemed possessed. His face smiled and frowned as he stood motionless on the banks of the river.
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Put your hand under my thigh. This is the righteous one. The mystery is that the world exists on these three: grace, judgment and mercy. He is appointed from the mystery above to resurrect those who sleep in the grave. He will come with the will from the one who is above to bring back the breath and the soul to the proper place.
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lazlo deacon
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PostPosted: Sat Sep 20, 2008 8:50 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

“It’s like this, Lazlo,” he said, his long arm resting on the back of the rusty glider. He crossed one spindly leg over his knee and swung it back and forth in a laconic motion and the glider creaked. “You’re not really here and you’re not really there. That’s what purgatory is.” His tone was kindly pedantic and when he smiled the light of a thousand suns glittered out of his autumn sky-blue eyes. I had to look away.

“But I am dead, right?”

“Do you feel dead?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been dead before.”

He turned his head up and looked far out into the gloaming.
“That’s an altogether separate discussion for another time, Lazlo. The simple fact of the matter is that the physical body you were using has become...irrelevant. You no longer need it. Therefore, it has died. You are still in the world but no longer of it. That is your...situation.

Normally I would not attend your homecoming myself. Emissaries usually suffice for the orientation but, I felt compelled, Lazlo. Would you like to know what compelled me? I’ll tell you. Love, Lazlo. Love compels me. He took the one thing that I loved from me, Lazlo. You see? That’s what we have in common, you and I. Both of us victims of his capricious whims. And he calls me arrogant! Look up at the sky, Lazlo. What time of day is it? Tell me.”

The deep hue of twilight hung over the courtyard. The evening stars were just beginning to wink and shimmer thought the patchy incoming fog and i smelled sage in the air. “It’s dusk.”

“Sit down here beside me and tell me what it looks like.” He patted the back of the glider with one hand and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his inside pocket and shook them at me. My brand. I lowered myself onto the glider and took one of the smokes. He lit it with a silver match.

“The light, Lazlo. Tell me about the quality of the light.”
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nameless
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PostPosted: Sat Sep 20, 2008 6:47 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Nameless labored, unable to leave three figures. The path was overpowering in brightness and persistent din; travel was difficult. Seeking direct passage, Nameless was found to be a guide of another ilk and able to discern the expansive lay in general terms. This brought no pleasure, but only a familiarity with footsteps and a grave suspicion about the passages themselves.
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