Tag Archives: devil

Manifold Destiny (The Obsidian Journal)

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Journal Entry:

My Lamborghini Diablo VTTT was purring in idle, waiting to eat the levels of hell. Tricked out with a Demon Carb and T9 turbochargers , pushing the already powerful V24 block, the blood red monster  gleamed and was raring to roar. My perpetual mechanic minions worked themselves to death-literally-their inner ichor draining off while they whistled while they toiled.

I hate whistling!

Of course, nothing stays “dead” in the land of the dead. Damnit! One of those things HE and I disagreed on. Oh well…their eternal servitude brought them back to their feet as I vaulted into the drivers seat. It felt delicious, as I shimmied around on the real Corinthian leather, made out of real Corinthians.  Two of the flunkies were corporeal enough to close the vertical Lambo door for me. They got a sneer and a snarl for their duty.

Rolling out of the Manifold Destiny garage, I noticed Lilith had a large Suku-Bus in for repairs. Damn good idea, she had; it got a lot of rides. More souls for less. Makes me almost smile.

Almost.

Outside, and it was pedal to the metal! The full turbo boost of the monster lept into action as I smoked down hell’s boulevards. Most got out of the way. Many did not, and the squeals and suffering were musical afternotes to my ears. The odorous mélange of the ever changing landscape wafted through the car’s cabin, and I felt a dark smile reach my lips as the double Diablos (I laughed at that one!) rocketed out of my domain…doing 355 per mortal hour, if memory serves me right.

Shooting through The Seven Gates of Hell in York, PA (you just have to admire that designation), we screamed through the land of  sleepy night heads. I stopped here and there to tip some cows over, leave some alternate hexagons in place of the Mennonites symbols, and picked up a hitchhiker. 

Really? Was he kidding, thinking of pulling a gun on ME? He was an amusing plaything for all of five minutes. I should check to see if the farmer enjoyed his new scarecrow. I know the crows enjoyed their meal.

I tooled around Hellam (my type of town), thumbed my nose at you-know-who as I  breezed through Mt. Zion and Paradise, and stopped for a time in Intercourse. Along the way I found sinners of all cloth, and dealt with them accordingly. My glove compartment (gloves? really? Hell, remember?) was full of deals signed in blood (the rubes), with “promises’ to come for their souls.

The thought of those promises did make me laugh on the road, causing a bit of a tumult. I saw that another flock of birds were found dead the next day: news at Eleven. C’est la mort! Promises…after all, I’m not the Prince of Lies for nothing.

Winding my way around the trenches of this so called life was exhilarating for a short while, but…boredom comes so easily after so many years. I put the Diablo on auto-cruise, sat back to watch the too little devastation in my wake (got an early morning buggy to do five 360’s!) and soon found myself through The Seven Gates of Hell (figuratively and literally).

Wheeling into Manifold Destiny, the ame damee surrounded their Diablos, taking good care of both.

Lilith’s Suku-Bus was gone. Good. She’ll have a tale or twelve to tell when she comes to bed later.

My "Baby"

It was a Bad Day… (The Obsidian Journal)

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Click to read: Part One: The Obsidian Journal

Part Two: It was a Bad Day…

It was a bad day. A very bad day.”

Lucifer laughed as he entered those words into his Obsidian Journal. Minions ripped each other to shreds as they tried to get out of hearing distance. The Morning Star’s laughter was infectious, as it drove itself deep inside and twisted whatever passed for guts in the hell spawn. His chuckles cut like an axe blade; his guffaws gnawed as if mite infected every nerve system; his titters…his titters…

Satan never tittered.

He thought back over this day’s activities. It was a long list. Tilting back in his uneasy chair, putting his hooves up on the desk top. A deep satisfied sigh resounded throughout the caverns of Hell and causing a few earthquake readings around the topside of the globe.  This caused a few geologists to sputter, but they quickly subsided, as did the quakes.

Picking up his journal and Corinthian pen, he started to list his machinations on the human plane which had occurred during their twenty-four hour period:

Wild Fires... "Check."
Earthquakes..."Check."
Damned Souls... "Check."
South Carolina Republican Primary... "Check."
UN-natural disasters... "Check."
Demonic Possessions... "Check."
Giving the finger to HIS Angels... "Check."
Signing contract for "Real Housewives of Washington"... "Check."
Putting bug in ears to cut more jobs, create more unemployed... "Check."

…and the list continued on for a few pages. Lucifer checked his list, twice, and was satisfied. He closed his Obsidian Journal and put it and the pen into his desk drawer. Shutting it with a slam, The Morning Star flexed his wings and flew out of his office.

All in a bad day’s work!” he exclaimed.

He flew up through the nine levels, soared up up and away and ascended into the heavens…second to the right, and straight on till morning.

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My 200th Post on Tale Spinning

I didn’t even realize how many I’ve done in less than a year of writing this blog. Tale Spinning’s “anniversary” comes up sometime in early February (not really sure of the actual date and I’m too lazy to go look it up). I only have a handful of Non-Fiction published here, so…maybe 190 pieces of creative writing? I’m happy with that.

Thank you to everyone who has been following Tale Spinning. I have a lot more readers then I have people who comment, but that is the norm here on the internet. I do appreciate one and all in stopping by, and I hope you’ve been enjoying what you find.

If you like my writing, I have a few pieces on Amazon:

Flash Over (my first published eStory)

After Dark Charity Anthology (“Trolling for Love”)

Dawn of Indie Romance Charity Anthology (“Redhead Riding”)

and coming soon from Trestle Press: The Path Away From Love (my first solo collection)

 

(ps: you don’t need to own a Kindle: Amazon has free plug-ins for your PC, MAC, and portable devices)

The Obsidian Journal

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The Morning Star closed the Obsidian Journal that Lilith had given to him after their last tryst. She  had announced it with the O and J in a very capitalized way, and now he could not think of it otherwise. Lily was off doing what she did wickedly well, being the Mother of Demons, and he was  glad she was gone. “Great in the sack (well, we did it everywhere but in the sack; but who’s counting?), she was also a primal headache, second only to YOU KNOW WHO,” he thought.

Lucifer let out a great heavy sigh, a sigh that was burthen down with the weight of the world upon his winged shoulders. He touched the corners of the journal, the volcanic glass from Hell’s Half Acre rhyolitic lava field, letting the high viscosity and polymerization crystal play underneath his talons. If he would ever to admit to such a thing, the Lord of the Underworld was…happy.

The Obsidian Journal was the first one that he was able to write his thoughts in private, and keep them there. Yes, he had tried other bound annals: moleskin, calf skin, human skin. They all burst into hell’s cinders, and once aflame words would find their ways into the ears of demons (if they had had ears), and oh…what terrible pleasure they had in quoting the Lord of Flies. The petty gossips, jealousies and fears he so relished from others was poison to him when it was about him, and his wrath only grew, but it did not stop the quips.

“Did you hear the one about Lucifer and…” was often heard around the nine levels, with a different subject matter about who or what the “and” was depending on the level.

Ahh, but the Obsidian Journal, this was different. His reflections of the days’ damned deeds burned obscenely into the dark glass, the letters of flame dancing from the pain and shame of those he enticed. Lucifer chuckled, which caused many lesser demons to flee for their essence, as life is not what you would say they had.

“Time well spent at NYU,” he thought.” So many there, to be easily swayed my way. So many mine already before they entered.”

The dark glass echoed the Lord of Lie’s black smile. “It’s…ugh… good…to be a reflective practitioner!”

His laughter caused a moaning across Hell, and an exodus for the gates.

Heaven did not wait.

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This is for Tom, for making an obsidian out of a moleskin.

SPECIAL NOTE: A Guest Blog Story by Yours Truly!

I was asked by Damyanti of Daily (W)rite for a guest blog story for her while she undertook a long trip during August. It’s one thing to write a guest blog, and it’s another to have someone ask you to write a guest blog STORY for them. I was doubly honored this way by a writer I respect.

She gave me a photo prompt, two words I must use (hourglass; pencil), and a 250 word limit. I did it, and called it “Under Pig and Duck.”  Leave a comment on her blog. I’ll respond there.

Also, just to keep you on tether hooks, the details for  The Rule of Three Fiction Writers Blogfest is coming soon. If you write fiction and write a blog, I hope you’ll join us on this very exciting journey. My first “teaser” story can be found here: Renaissance: Prissy’s Story

Thanks, Damyanti.