[Part two of two parts: From the story, Gusoyn, in the Prison House for Demon]
[Journal Notes of Buer] The lower cells in the Prison House for Demon, some several floors below Gusoyn's cell were that of an awful stench of burning air and demonic fiber. Had anyone told me before a demon smells when they burn, I would have looked the other way, but it is true as the day is long. So Gusoyn explained to me when he was released from prison, just before our assignment to the Galapagos. In consequence, together with the prisons foulness, making its way down the hallways of this underground prison and up on, and through its main upper floors, it seemed to be pasted on the walls like slim: akin to yellow salvia.
After Gusoyn explained this to me, he asked me to take an oath of silence, secrecy not to tell anyone: and of course I did, then—demon to demon—it is rather silly of him to ask me that, for we all know demons never keep their word. Rather it is a way to say:
'I'm telling you the truth;' no more, no less—in essence, it was a joke, to me at least.
Anyhow, besides the stench, and now Gusoyn standing by me as I'm finished up with my journal notes, he, not knowing what I'm doing, but he has always known me to be a journaling person: he, like always, is getting a speck restless.
"Buer, my old friend," he just said to me, "you could always smell and see a cloud of unvarnishable, sulfurous fire and vapor throughout the prison." I believe him without question, for what is a prison if not to punish a person; you don't send him to Camelot.
Gusoyn didn't pretend he was innocent of his downright insolent attitude toward the rules and conduct of demon, and that going to prison was unfair, for he knew he surely deserved it, he was just trying to share his ugly experience, and in a way bragging he went through the torments of such: black terror we call it, us demon you know: I say this to whom may read my memories in future time. If I was to analyze this, and I am not a psychologically educated demon by far, but I'd say he felt powerless, matter of fact, I'd even stretch it to say: he hated the powerlessness he felt. I must take a break from my Journaling, be back in a moment, Gusoyn keeps asking me what am I writing.
[Later on] Ok journal notes, I'm back. He was as always hyper and anxious and down right feeling: behooved. But that is Gusoyn for you, can't do a damn thing about it for him. But I will have to report, give these journal notes to Agaliarept, Satan's henchman in hell; I suppose they will be good enough for Agaliarept, he is the henchman for Lucifer, I repeat myself I know: and he is our boss. I do think the Black Terror did wonders for him; it mellowed his impulse to do things his way, or no way. Thus, it is at least fading slowly.
For those who read this entry in my journal: the abbot, the one Gusoyn had his fun with trying to pacify with a whore, and have him commit a sexual sin, has now passed on, or so I've heard he is coming in a boat across the gulf of Hades, to Hell's Gates, so Agaliarept will be amazed to welcome him, I guess Agaliarept had assigned another demonic being, named: The Mantic ore to him, to guide him; a great assignment to this sinful man of robes, he was to my understanding having a sexual relationship with another of the abbots—a homosexual one I think; that is to say, he didn't' want Gusoyn getting in the way; you see, ulterior motives for everything. Yes, Agaliarept is quite the practical genius. That is what I was telling Gusoyn about when I took a few minutes off from these notes a while ago. All in all, it's been a long, long week. When Gusoyn left the prison, he was assigned to me, and if he does not accomplish his future assignment well, he will taste the fury of the Black Terror again. That is all I have Journal, for you today, anyways.
Buer,
Demon-First Class
Dennis Siluk see his site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com |
Atom Feed (xml)
No comments:
Post a Comment