The ongoing chapters of the story: The Carverous Planets, CHAPTER #3, parts I & II
3.
A Devils Fate
People dont choose their fears
Their jealousies, envies and hates They do.
The Princess
Part I
Island of Semyaz
Semyaz is intimately related to the so called Old Ones, the ones who vanished before the dawn of mans contemporary civilization. He vanished before mans written history of course, yet he did survive the surprised attack of Urael the holy angel sent by God to bind, hand and feet of Semvaza and Azazel, the two angelic leaders, and bury them in a hole in the desert, and put unmovable rocks on top of them. And so this was done, for their sins were great in the eyes of God: they had both defiled themselves with the daughters of the earth, lay together with them, as they gave birth to giants sons who brought blood and oppression among the earth, thus, they were killed as well, in good time (the Giants).
Semyaz l iked power as well as Azazel, and was given such power over his companions now, the ones Semvaza and Azazel commanded; yet this angelic beast, with the group of two-hundred renegade angels was discontent.
As I was about to say, Urael when he came down from the heavens and chained Azazel under rocks and earth, Semyaz was vanished to a far off island in the Pacific; vanished to an island that now bared his name, vanished because he was discontent and perused like Azazel flesh thereafter; yet, Semyaz along with his accomplice who both taught incantations and the cutting of roots in addition to other sins, unto earths early inhabitants, he ruled with a club in hand, now only a lonely island was his domain. And so we are back on earth.
Semyaz was given an island of his own to live on for the rest of human history, until the End of Days. But there was a problem, an irritating one at best, the island sunk into the deep of the sea during the day light, and at night it would rise to face the moon, and its surrounding constellations. A most tired some ongoing event, for the prisoner.
Understand, said Semyaz, with a harsh vile to his voice, as he spoke to the emptiness of the night, Understand! he shouted to the heavens with his hands thrust into, and up-to the heavens:
Understand, whom ever enters my island they will be subject to me, I will destroy them, he shouted at God these very words, and as he shouted he chanted the name: Urael; yes, O yes, bellowing to God as if he was daring Him for a challenge, one that would be on an equal footing. Theretofore, he went about administrating to his unholy ground in solitude, his four-archer spot in the Galapagos.
Each evening Semyaz, as the island surfaced from several fathoms below the water, akin to a sunken ship, he could be seen [if one was looking sitting on his throne, a huge rock shaped into one anyway, facing the moon. There was an abundance of time to think, and so he d face the foliage around him, the creatures that crawled here and there, and the movement of the sky and talk, command as if someone was listening, as if he had an audience. He thought about the abyss, his old comrades were in, nasty fate hed say. But it was getting old, that is, hashing over the same issues, complaints; looking century after century in the sky as if it was Gods eye; looking at the same constellations; the humdrum of life was upon his mind and shoulders. Could things get worse hed say, with doubt in his mindperhaps.
Semyaz, new life would never return to him, in which he knew, that is to say, life as it once was before; life in the Pre-Satanic era, when Lucifer was the welcomed ruler of earth, before the cursed rebellion, before man came to populate the world. Even before the Moirommalits were heard of.
For the most part, Semyaz was a tall and hard muscled fallen angelic being, at one time a handsome looking brut for an angel, or so many had commented; now he was far removed from it; he was the reverse, tall and thin, and watered down looking, like a sponge, wrinkled by a thousand-years of being dunked in and out of the water, now an old man old man; thin hair, and webbed feet, greenish skin, and large bug eyes. He had become part of his landscape you might say. He even had gills, all the ingredients to live in the sea, and a mammal touch to live on land amongst the earth creatures. And still there were slight orbs within his being that gave out a convinced current-waveif you will, that he was once a supernatural living thing: all wrapped-up in a twisted package now.
It was seldom if ever, humanoids came upon his island, and when they did, it was during the day, and as the island sank, theyd be gone, making his revengeful heart even more infectious to those around him, meaning he could not displace his anger as willed; being a demonic plant-life creature now. Annoyed and disturbed as I was saying, he was, no matter what eventuation took place; no matter how comforted he was, no matter how much he wanted to leave the island for boredom sake, he never left the island in fear hed defile himself again, and be cast into utter darkness. Even pleasures that once obsessed his mind, now diminished to a small dribble of water, sprinkled his mind; nothing in comparisons to how it used to be (and how it used to be is nondescript). Yet he pitied himself horridlywith his stricken face, his constant defensive rigid body posture. Oh yes, he told himself, he had a right for pleasure, just as much as anyone should have, but he took too many liberties before, when he was not being restrained, and was paying the price now.
Semyazone of the Old Ones
Part II
The Visitation
Semyaz looked up from his throne, cursed heaven again, as he had done almost daily for a number of millenniums, did his sound incantations, shouting spells into the nights air as if to call on the Greek gods of old, which he was one of at one time, as a result, he was worshiping himself in essence.
The inky dark night was especially haughty this evening, even for him, as he felt his skin quiver (it was twilight), caused by a premonition possibly, one of the so called Old Ones, ghostly haughty was approaching; if not? he told himself, something was different, something in the makings [demonic-peculiarity he call it). The shadows in the face of the sky seemed to have scars, tares; and these faces seemed to be making faces back at him as he looked up, demonic faces; drifting faces, so he noticed as he checked out one detail to another. It was drifting from downward by another island beyond his; from the big island some ways off, so far he could only see it as a shadowy mist; it was coming to his tiny inundated island.
What is it? he mumbled, while, squinting his eyes at the dark blisters lit faces within the hollow of the night clouds; reflections, moonli ght reflections, showed the faces becoming thicker. Who where they of, they all looked familiar. Odd he thought, very anomalous. The longer he stared the more he could see the face of Azazel, his old angelic friend, and possible Buer and Gusoyn, the hermits of the big island beyond his, demonic creatures. They were at one time Agaliarepts henchmen of the underworld; they both turned into demons after the Pre-Satanic era came to an end (prior to the time of Adam). They were at one time shopkeepers, and builders of cities. Now deformed; one used to looked handsome with blond hair, the other like a stuffed penguinhis belly overlapping to where he could not see his feet. He farted so much he could have played the flute. They had vulgar featuresin person and in the configurations in the nights emotional sky. But Azazel is he wanted to say dead, but it would have been the wrong word, such creatures like he and Azazel do not die, buried alive, yes, that flooded his cerebellum for the moment, but not dead. Then approximating, Buer manifested himself by his side.
A surprised visit, said Semyaz to Buer, adding, How come I can see Azazel in the ghostly arrangement in the smoke-like clouds?
Alas, said Buer, I think he may have escaped from his incarcerated environment (a long pause took place as Semyaz stared at Buer and, and.
And what Buer? said [freakishly to Semyaz.
Well, I hate to tell you but I will he is doing what he does best, cohabitating with one of his natives on the big island.
There was a long, very long silence in the dialogue. It was an unbelievable statement, yet, possible thought Semyaz: or so he told himself, trying to convince him it was possible, but how, he was buried by an archangel?
[Mental deliberation Yes, possible, but not likely, he tossed inside his brain a second time, yet reasonable, but not practical. Yet, it would be like him, he told himself, like him, if he was free from his shack les; very much like him he repeated within his thoughts, should he had gained his freedom, he would surely be testing his liberties with human flesh againthat goes with out saying; the very thing that got him in trouble in the first place; actually, that was the very thing that got both of them into this mess.
After an hour of quiet pondering inside his skull, he told Buer, Yes, inevitable, it would be inevitable. Any thing for pleasures sake, that is exactly him, right to the core, yes, O yes. The more he paced back and forth from the rock which was his throne to the ocean front, then back to the foliage of the jungle where Buer was standing [a flat affect of his face, he was becoming more frustrated: how could this be he pondered, why does he get to escape and have pleasures as he pleases, and I am stuck here, unfair was shifting back between his mind and his stomach, down to the center of emotions in his bowels.
I assure you my friend, Semyaz, he was there a moment ago, with Innina-Anu, princess of the island, and most beautiful, he was laying with her, laying naked, flesh and blood to his monstrous body, said Buer with an antagonizing and jeering voice.
Brother Buer, said Semyaz with a slight exhausted stare, where is Gusoyn, your companion of sorts? For some odd reason, it just occurred to Semyaz to ask, for it seemed they were always together, like two peas in a pod.
Oh! [he said with a jerk to his throat, trying to clear it he is watching them make love. This aroused Semyaz even more: with desire, hate, and envy and jealously all twisted in knot in his guts now; to no bounds. It was all too hard to digest, his eyes started to turn red like a great apes; horror belled out of his nostrils, red with envy: anger nesting in his every thought. His viper tongue now slid out, over and down his jawshuddering like a snake with forty eyes wondering whom to attack; he looked like a vampire in heat, bloodthirsty, and wan ted revenge; and anyone, and I mean anyone would do, would do right this minute. As hungry as was for pleasure, or revenge, it was envy that got him; he wanted what his old friend had, his friends mate, envy yes, but envy with having the same rights he had, for they both committed the same sin. Ah yes! When it is our turn for justice, we want it fair and square; but when we give it, we could careless. He was acting like a mongoose after a snake: shaking his head almost in a 360-degress angle, and pounding his feet on the ground like a mad bull. Buer got a little fearful, him being on Semyazs island, and he having all the power there, he was just about to leave when Semyaz grabbed him: Take me to them! he commanded. For he had heard that the beauty of the princess flesh, was like polished glowing gold, flesh that blindsand her curves were precision made; breasts that filled everymans desires, and her sweet, sweet thighs, were like a crimson toned rainbow, tantalizing j ust to look at.
He now was telling himself hed take her, and boy would he take herand drain her until she was completely his, crush her body if she resisted; yes, he would take her away from Azazel, whom was the fallen leader and had so many times before [with him raped and tore children away from their parents and used them as part of his love machine, whomever he wanted he took, be it daughter, wife, mother or child. His mind now was working overtime, he had come to the conclusion, he would take her away from this so called ex-colleague of his, who put his curse on him, or better put, he was the cause he was cursed in the first place, or so he told himself; thus he would do as he would do, what he had planned now in his head, if Azazel could escape, why couldnt he. Maybe God had forgotten his spell he put on him and Azazel. This would be a protest, should he need to have one after the factYes, yes, he thought, a protest to God Himself: after he had his pleasure and revenge. Plus, Azazel was simply trying to intimidate him with his shadowy face in the night skykind of a show off thing, knowing he was stranded on this dreadful pathetic, lonely island in the Pacific, but hed show him soon.
Dennis Siluk, Author
http://dennissiluk.triood.com
Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: short stories
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