Date: Tue, 21 Jun 2005 19:40:31 -0700 (PDT) From: John Lexter Victorio Subject: a day the earth stood still part 1 THIS STORY IS BASED ON SOMETHING THAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME IN MY LIFE, AND THOUGH THE NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED, THE SCENES HAVE BEEN EMBELLISHED; THE SPIRIT OF THE TRUTH PREVAILS...BECAUSE IT WILL ALWAYS HURT THE SAME WAY IT DID WHEN I KNEW EVERYTHING. THIS IS A WAY FOR ME TO CONFESS MY ACTIONS, THOUGH I DO NOT EXPECT ABSOLUTION FOR ANYTHING, NOR WILL I ASK FOR IT IN WHEN ALL THINGS ARE ANSWERED FOR. SUCH THINGS DO HAPPEN IN LIFE THAT WE DO NOT WANT, AND YET THEY ARE WHAT MAKE US PEOPLE, AND WE ARE WHAT MAKE THEM HAPPEN. I AM PLACING MY E-MAIL ADDRESS HERE FOR YOUR WORDS, BUT PLEASE BE POLITE; I HAVE ENOUGH FIRE IN MY MIND ALREADY. THIS WILL BE A SUCCESSION OF POSTS BECAUSE I WANT THE WORLD (OR AT LEAST THOSE WHO READ THIS) TO CONTEMPLATE EVERY SCENE AS THOUGH THEY WERE IN IT. LEX Emperor_prophet@yahoo.com Of the Dagger in My Mind What was in my thoughts when I did everything I did? Was it in pursuit of lawful retribution or bloody vengeance, truth or personal gain, sacrifice or torture? I toyed with the kukri in my hand and saw the glimmer of the streetlights outside. I had made sure to turn all the lights off in our house, so everyone else thinks I left with my friends. Heh, friends indeed. I heard the weak attempts of someone to free herself behind me, and turned to see Irma, my best friend, struggle in the entanglement of packaging tape and rope. She was very beautiful, and also very loud, so I made sure to gag her well. Her reddish hair was plastered with sweat on her face, and it added a delicate touch to the fear in her eyes. "Do not try to free yourself," I mumbled, walking slowly, deliberately to her, "I will remove pain from you soon enough." Indeed, some things cannot be wholly explained when you arrive too late, but then again, it makes everything more suspenseful. I placed the kukri's tip very close to her eye, and then frightened her by pretending to stab her in several places. The smell of her sweat had become like deadly perfume in my curtained room, lit only by several little candles. I put my nose to her neck and took a long, cliched, maniacal whiff of her sweat. It was not intoxicating because it was made of fear, but because it was from my best friend. I ripped the tape on her face and pulled out the gag, and whispered, "You may call for help, but they'll come to a dead body anyway, so don't try it." She breathed heavily and made to moan in confusion and weakness, and looked at me with the same feelings in her eyes. "Lance...why?" "Why you death, why pain, why does it have to end this way? Irma, you know very well the reasons why." "I don't know what you're getting at, please, let me go!" My, she was young, but nothing she said can hide the fact that I could trust no one in this world any more. "Do not lie to me, or I will slash you very slowly on your throat, just like this." The kukri was a very exotic-looking dagger; given to me by someone once very dear. It had a small, tanned, leather handle, and a pommel of polished amethyst. The blade itself was double edged, but `swollen' on one edge and having a beak instead of a straight tip. I polished it very carefully with foreign oils and used only lambskin paper to wipe the dirt away; it was so sharp that it took little effort for me to make Irma's outer thigh bleed. Thank goodness she was wearing short pants, or I'd have ruined a good pair of her slacks. "No! Please! Don't do this!" Her voice was in a whisper now, good girl, or I'd have done the same thing on her throat like I promised. The oil on the kukri was so slippery, that the blood from her thigh trickled from the blade and directly to my fingers. "Irma, will you promise to tell me the truth now, now that you know how dangerous this is?" I kissed her on the ear as she quickly nodded her head. I sat beside her on the floor like I always did with her, and began my interrogation. "Irma, why didn't you tell me Einsland did it; why did you all have to pretend it was someone else, when in fact you yourselves are guilty?" "I promise you, Lance, I didn't know he was dead serious in killing Julian! All I knew is that he was gonna be joining Lambda Epsilon Xenia that night!" "Truly? But then you always knew that he was a violent man when provoked, which can be from a dirty finger to a sneeze. You never had the wisdom to wonder why Einsland was suddenly asking Julian to join up with almost every jock group in school, so you just thought they were being friends." I passed the kukri to and fro in the hair stuck to her cheek, the keen blade cutting little wet strands of them, and making red lines on her skin. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, and she sobbed like a confused child. But it would have been better for a cold heart to face her, for there would still be a heart beating within. "Lance, I'm so sorry for this, but anything you do won't bring him back!" "Naturally, my friend," I droned, and spat on her face, "killing you and Einsland and everyone else won't bring my beloved Julian back, though it will delight me, purify me, and heal my wounds." I sat up and pulled her with me, and steadied her on her feet. The young woman was always the winner of our city beauty pageants, and her plump breasts and high profile arms and legs were proof enough of that. I took a long look at her in the shadow and light of my room, amusing myself as she tried hard not to fall (I had taped her legs too, the young woman was very fast when she needed to be). "Where are you taking me?" "To Elysium, Irma, but first I shall make sure everyone will remember you fondly." Sheathing the kukri in its scabbard, I replaced the gag on her mouth and lifted her. Being a weight-watcher, she was light enough to be handled in one arm, which made bringing her to my jeep real easy. No cars were passing by the road I took, but I would be taking no chances, so I stuffed her under the backseat that I made with...with Julian. The trip would be slightly long, so I played some music on the jeep's CD player to ease my already burning mind. The music was burned onto the CD; a recording of one of the most powerful and enigmatic plays in the whole world. I was the Phantom of the Opera, and my Julian...was Raoul de Chagny, while another friend of ours was beloved Christine Daae. The organ and electric guitar created a symbiosis of opposing powers: awkward upon the laws of common ears, but artful and divine in the hearts of the gods...us. It was one of the most emotional scenes then, the final performance of Christine to bait the Phantom, planned by Raoul. The play was written by Phantom, and he had murdered the leading male singer to take his place. I came to the stage dressed in a leather jacket and satin cape, and began the song thusly... You have come here, in pursuit of your deepest urge, In pursuit of that wish, which till now has been silent, silent . . . I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge - In your mind you've already succumbed to me, Dropped all defences, completely succumbed to me -- Now you are here with me: no second thoughts, you've decided, decided . . . Past the point of no return, no backward glances: The games we've played till now are at an end . . . Past all thought of "if" or "when", no use resisting: Abandon thought, and let the dream descend . . . What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us . . .? Past the point of no return, the final threshold - What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn? Beyond the point of no return . . . I knew it was true for the present moment; there would be no turning back, for to do so would be foolish and unforgivable, whether by God or Man. I had meditated deeply upon my acts of vengeance, and knew that by thinking of such evil things, there was truly no hope left. I thought back to that final performance night, and a smile crossed my face. We were given a ten minute standing ovation by the community and everyone invited; our performance was truly grand. Julian was easily known to be the sexiest and most lovable character compared to Kelly, our Christine. He had received several screams and faints of approval from the girls, while the guys seethed with manly jealousy. Of course, I was not to be outdone! Several flowers were presented to me by many strangers, male and female alike. The joy I felt in performing my dreams on stage was abundant, but it was nothing compared to the euphoria I felt afterwards backstage. "Perfect, just perfect!" "Better than I expected." "You could very well go to Broadway!" Such praises from our teachers were true, because they made us work our asses off for three months just to reach this point in time. Everyone was in a hurry to go to their families and celebrate the victory, which was what we wanted. "Fucking paradise right here, Lance!" whispered Julian in the dressing room, ecstatic and still in his stage clothes. "We all rocked out there, Julian: I know what you mean," I said, ever the jubilant stoic. We heard a knock on the door and entered Irma with Einsland, her boyfriend. Irma was jumping over everything as she gave both of us big hugs; Einsland just stood there and nodded his approval (the cretin was actually in the play, and so was Irma; minor roles nevertheless played with heart). "You guys were so great, everyone just screamed for you." "Irma, everyone screamed for Julian and Kelly." "Nobody ever said you were humble, Lance, why start now?" retorted Einsland in a sarcastic drawl. Basketball god of the local school, jock-in-charge of most school events, and besides Julian, William Chester Einsland was the most desirable man in the whole darned state. He had everything that vanity could give: an impressive eight pack, maul arms, the country basher look on his face, perfectly blonde hair and deadly brown eyes. He also looked much older than he really was; which always gave him an edge in dealing with people. Irma was a beautiful nobody actually; she refused to join cheerleading because she was too frightened to be secretly labelled "Popular Bimbo". Her rise to true fame was when she won prom queen, and Julian was prom king. Everyone thought they would hit it off, but Julian loved someone else. Oh, Irma was also evidently the tightest twat in the galaxy, even after rolling around with Einsland's tool (you will find out how I know soon enough). "Einsland, let's get out of here, we need to give them some private time." "You just wanna jump my bull." "Oh, so you don't want a piece of me?" "See you guys next week!" They left without further ceremony, and left my beloved and I to ourselves. Julian went to the door and locked it, and to my astonishment, dragged a heavy chair to it as well. "Julian, I can understand the locks, but a chair?" I queried, while taking off my cape. "I don't want anything getting in the way of our lovemaking. No, wait, don't take them off...let me do everything tonight." Dearest Julian, he was more than just another pretty face to me. He rivalled Einsland in physicality in all aspects: a smooth and pale body that never seemed to tan in the sun, muscles that were ever fit and perfect for his frame; everything that I never thought would be mine to touch. His face was proportioned to fit his rugged form, with no fault in them...just a few scratches from old fights that he would always be too shy to tell anyone else. Of his black eyes there were specs of green, which gave him a mystical (almost fictional) visage. Those were eyes that could demand in silence, but never had the power to hide joy or anger. His lips were thick and generous; a kisser's dream, and never did the day pass without him planting many kinds of them on my skin. But of all the things I could be proud of on his body; it was his beautiful, gelled black hair, bearded chin and fair moustache that sucked me in a void. It was this lovely hair which I was toying with now as he undid the clasps of my leather costume. "I love you, Lance." "As I love you and as everyone else loves you." "Come on, don't be jealous of the crowd, I'm very handsome so I can't help it!" "Who said I'm jealous? Actually, I'm quite proud of that," I said as he slowly took off my undershirt, and taking a nipple in his mouth, suckled on it like it would bring mead, "proud that of all those people, I am yours for the taking." A felt his teeth bite gently on it, and could not help but moan in pleasure, but it shouldn't happen this fast. I whispered in his ear that he take his clothes off like a stripper, which always made him blush. "Why do you make me do these things? It makes me feel so...bad," he would complain, but took them off with such eagerness and ardour that if it were not rude, I would pay him. I played a disco tune in my head while I watched him take his shirt off, and was always satisfied with what I saw. "Do you really love me, Lance?" Julian was both a closet homosexual, and a closeted insecure young boy. "Yes, I do, my beloved, come and sit on my lap." It had been three years that we had decided to live together, and even longer that we loved each other. He was beautiful in all things, but like I read in a book before, the greatest loneliness is when you are better than everyone else. Hmm, then why don't I feel lonely? "Julian, kiss me." Ah, yes, I have him.