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Mateus felt the cold steel bite into his flesh, belching up mouthfuls of blood as his hurt burst. His dying body fell from his horse and sprawled itself across the ground. The long reign of the dreaded "Black Rider" was at an end. The world went dark around him and he began to feel the searing fires of Hell batheing his body in eternal damnation.
Down he plunged past the grips of Faustian legend and lore, past Divine Comedy, and into true torment. He was naked now, returned to the shameful state that ushered him into the world of men. His long blond hair hung loosely in his face. After what seemed like an eternity of falling his descent finally slowed and he was upon Golgotha, the place of the skulls. All the strength left him, and he was made to neal. He raised his heavy head and his blue eyes gazed upon a throne made from souls of the damned. And sitting upon that throne was a man, or so it seemed at first. He didn't seem to hold his shape, fading in and out of frame. His eyes were black as night, and when he spoke, his voice was that of the dragon.
"Stand," the man upon the throne growled. Mateus attempted to stand, but found his muscles rebelled against him with every motion. They felt heavy, and they ached. The man grinned a mouth filled with razor sharp teeth, "STAND. Or forever be made to neal at my feet." The throne cried the cry of a multitude of men, women, and children who could not meet this task. Mateus tried again, but his body only felt heavier. After hours of struggling he collapsed to the ground, defeated and exhausted. The man laughed, "If you cannot stand, then neal as a part of my throne."
"WAIT," Mateus said, his muscles writhing and twitching. As the Black Rider he afforded himself countless victories through strength alone. Now it was the shere strength of his very muscles that threatened to undo him. But Mateus could not have brought an entire nation to its knees through physical strength alone. No, true domination requires a mastery of wit and deceit. He began to mound up the bones that he rested upon around his arms. The process was long, but in a land where time does not exist Mateus noticed this not at all. Slowly, he was back to his knees, and as centuries became eons, he was crouching. Finally, after all his toil, he stood before the beast, his hands draped over two skulls. "See Devil! I stand before you a man!" Mateus exclaimed in victory.
"You have done well," the beast on the throne said, "And you shall be rewarded accordingly. I will return your mind to the land of the living, while your heart remains here to suffer unnumbered torments. You will be a general among my legion. And you will serve me." Mateus frowned.
"I serve no man or god. There is only will to dominate, and desire to conquer. Take my heart, BUT command me nothing foul beast!" he spat. The man smiled, and the beast lashed out, thrusting its hand into Mateus's chest. Mateus screamed in agony as his heart was ripped from his chest. He looked at the beating mass in his hand and gave it a tentative squeeze. Mateus shrieked.
"I am not a man, nor am I God. But if you cross me, you shall see I am more terrible than both. No you this, there are no bargains or deals to be made here. No contracts, or battles for your soul. You are MINE," he squeezed harder and Mateus collapsed from the skull pillars that held him, "Are we at an understanding?"
"Yes! YES! I am yours to command. Just please stop, you're killing me!" The beast worked its claw against the pulsing muscle, causing Mateus to vomit. Satisfied with his work, he relinquished his grip, Mateus gasped and clawed his way back to his feet. The beast gripped Mateus's right arm and beared down on it. Mateus felt burning sensation well up as something pierced through the skin and attached itself to his arm. His mind began to reel as tendrils seem to crawl up his veins and pump new life and strength into him.
"Remember our accord, Matteus." Matteus nodded, and then his eyes grew heavy and he slipped off into oblivion, and opened his eyes in a world of nightmares...
And so it was that Matteus felt fear for perhaps the first time in his life. The world before him was a wonder. He eyed towers so tall that they scraped the skies, and trembled at the billowing beasts that noisily scurried between. And people! Never had he seen so much human filth in his life. Then again, never had he seen so clearly in his life. The world of ago was blurred and distorted to him, whereas this world seemed to be filled with detail. He too had changed. His long hair was trimmed and proper, his unkempt facial hair primmed and cut. Even his garbs had changed. No longer was he clad in heavy armor and uncomfortable undergarments. These clothes were lightweight, and offered little protection from the sword or the spear. But by the way people seemed to obliviously poddle along the side railings Matteus suspected such things were no longer necessary.
A world without war? Matteus thought, How boring. A familiar voice spoke up inside him, though it was not his own.
"Don't be fooled Matteus. They seem docile enough, but any one of them will gladdly slit your throat for a nickel, and sell their soul for a dime."
"I don't understand you," Matteus said in his own voice.
"You will. My gift to you will see to it."
"Gift?"
"Your arm. You need only touch a person and all their wisdom and understand will become your own." Matteus reached out and touched a rather large man and suddenly his mind was flooded with images. He saw a pillar of fire the likes of which he had never even imagined and new it to be an nuclear explosion. He saw concentration camps, leaders fall at assassin's bullets and understood the purposes they served. Suddenly this world didn't seem so alien to him. The Black Rider would reign again
He understood that the garment he wore was called a "three piece suit", and the strange noose around his neck was called a "tie".
"Let go of me, faggot!" The man suddenly yelled, and Matteus understood this man was angry and for some reason seemed to think Matteus was homosexual. The man whipped around and clumsily swung his fist. Matteus lazily ducked, grabbed the man's arm, and proceeded to break it in three places. The man shrieked in pain, which of course got the attention of the surrounding pedestrians. Some ran in terror, but four men bravely stepped up to subdue Matteus. But Matteus was bread with the heart and mind of a lion. And though his heart was in hell, his mind saw the attack come before the men could take two steps. He charged the first and planted his fist in his chest. He had only intended to immobalize the man, but something unexpected happened. A blade made of bone and sinews burst through his forearm and impaled the unsuspecting gentleman, killing him instantly. The blade seemed to glow for a second, and Matteus felt unnatural strength build within him. He eyed the other three attackers, which had stopped dead in their tracks. One took a step back and an almost animalistic grin came across Matteus's face.
"Don't go. The fun's just beginning!" Matteus said, turning on his next victims. He charged the first with speed far greater than his own and slashed across the man's belly, spilling his intestines on the ground. The blade glowed again and Matteus felt an even greater strength fill him. He whipped around and decapited the second while simultaniously slicing the final victim in twain, bathing himself in the gore.
"Freeze!" An authoritative voice said from behind him, "Drop your fucking weapon!"
"Oh look, more playments," Matteus said, and ended the lives of two of the police officers. By now the blade seemed to glow like a beacon. Matteus heard the deafining report of handgun and felt the bullet rip its way through his back. He turned around to see a rookie cop, half scared out of his mind. "Ouch," he said and the officer discharged two more rounds. Matteus burped up blood, "Ouch is code for STOP you prick." He impaled two people on his blade and the wounds immediately healed. The cop stared at him dumbfounded, his hand shaking.
"St-Stay back! P-put your w-weapon down." Matteus threw his head back and laughed. He pointed his arm, which had somehow morphed into some kind of cannon and said,
"You first." The rookie cop had no desire to argue with the man with the bigger gun. He set his on the ground. The cannon flashed, and half the man's right side spattered the ground. He shrieked in agony as his blood began to spurt from what was left of his arm and leg. Matteus walked over to him, his arm reverting back to the bone sword, "Getting shot hurts doesn't it?" Matteus taunted.
"P-please..."
"Doesn't it?!" Matteus pointed the blade at his latest victim.
"Y-yes." Matteus smiled. He plunged the blade into the man's heart and felt his strength grow once again.
He suddenly heard police cars pulling up behind him and thought to himself.
This is going to be one long fucking day...
Matteus whirled around and prepared to take on the prosession of squad cars. He took a step forward, when the voice spoke up inside his mind again.
ENOUGH! Suddenly he felt his strength drain from him as pain welled up inside his chest. It was his heart, his damned blackened heart. He felt the talons of the beast dig into it and collapsed to his knees, clutching the vacant cavity of his chest. He opened his eyes just long anough to see a gun barrel trained on his chest, and then felt his chest burst as a 9mm slug passed through his chest. RUN, the voice commanded, and Matteus began to retreat. He felt a bullet pass through his shoulder and heard the officer who fired it yell,
"Freeze! Police!" He felt three more rounds pierce his body and swore vengeance on every one of the fools who dared to fire on him, but his body continued to press on. Up to the roof, the voice said, and Matteus snagged a nearby ladder and stole up to the roof. At the top of the roof he found a homeless man Him. Matteus shook his head.
"I don't dine on filth." He felt pain in his chest again and heard the beast snarl, HIM! Matteus felt his gorge well up inside him, and nodded. He approached the man and raised his weapon. The blade bit into his chest and drank deeply of the homeless man's life force. The act revolted Matteus and he dry heaved. Had there been anything in Matteus's stomach at the time, it likely would've ended up on the homeless man's corpse. All the same, he did feel better. His wounds had began to heal and strength had returned to him.
It went this way for Matteus as he stalked aimlessly through the streets. He dined on drug dealers, murderers, rapists, people that Matteus had no quarrel with. Occasionally he would attempt to endulge himself with one of the women he passed, but they were not for him. The beast saw to it that he didn't so much as touch a hair on their heads. Unto him belonged the harlots, and socially immoral. It wasn't long before Matteus grew weary of this rough treatment. Soon he welcomed the pain, for it meant he was defying his captor. Until one day...
Matteus had just slaughtered three children against the wishes of the beast and felt another surge of pain almost cripple him. But therein layed the problem. ALMOST. Normally, the pain would at least bring him to his knees. Not this time. This time he barely shook. Matteus charged, and thrust his blade through an unsuspecting woman's back and smiled as the pain continued to subside.
"Free," he said and then let out a laugh of sadistic glee, "I'm FREE!" In a feat of blinding speed he ended the lives of fifty men, thirty women, and seven children. The whole time he commensed his mindless slaughter he heard the beast demanding, nay PLEADING with him to obey. And when Matteus only ignored the beast, the beast sent his prized warrior. He claimed no name as his own, and wore the attire of a gunslinger, though his holsters were barren of the big iron they once cherished to hold. A cigarette clamped tightly between his teeth, and over his back was slung a coffin. Darkness followed him with every step of his pale steed, and fire and smoke billowed from beneath its brimstone hooves. Matteus turned to survey this man who seemed to materialize from his own shadow and saw that on his left arm was the same type of weapon as Matteus had on his right. The man opened his eyes and Matteus saw that there were none, only the fires of Hell and damnation. And written across the skull plate of his steed was profane in the world of men. This "man" was Death, and Hell followed with him...
"Nice entrance." Matteus said, "Was that all for lil ol me?" The being didn't answer, and only continued to puff on his cigarette. "Well, let's have it then. Who the fuck are you?" When the rider refused to answer Matteus poised his weapon, the blade jutting out in front of him. The rider only tipped his hat, crushed out his cigarette, and began to slowly roll another. Matteus charged at the rider, and swing at his head, which the rider easily dodged. He swung again, and again the rider dodged. He finished rolling his cigarette and clamped it tightly between his teeth, all the while dodging Matteus's futile attempts at landing a defining blow. Suddenly he spoke.
"Time?" Matteus stopped.
"What?"
"What time is it?" Matteus considered the absurdity of the rider's question and then suddenly realized there was a bearing weight on his right wrist. He looked down and saw that he wore a Rolex watch. Suddenly he realized his once perfectly pressed suit was now nothing more than tattered rags. He pushed this fact out of his mind and read the time, "It's 11:53." He prepared to attack again and the rider said.
"Wait."
"What? Why?"
"A good duel happens at high noon," the rider said, "Enjoy these last moments you have on earth. Such as they are." Matteus chuckled.
"What makes you think youll be the one left standing?"
"You cannot kill what is already dead. You cannot defeat the fallen soldier. You can not steal what has already been stolen."
"You make no sense. But on a latter note, I like your horse. I think I shall take it as a trophy after your severed head hits the pavement."
"Time?"
"11:59"
"Last words?" The rider began to unsling the coffin from his back and Matteus realized it was roughly his size. Matteus took a certain offense to this and said, "Yeah I have some last words. FUCK Y---." the sky began to blacken and suddenly Matteus was ligitimately afraid of the rider. His weapon extended to two barrels, resembeling a cross between an overunder shotgun, and a Colt .45 revolver. He had a moment to look at the the Rolex, high noon. He felt his body leave the ground and he was launched by a blast of soul energy into a nearby parking lot. He coughed up blood as he came to a painful stop. He slowly staggered to his feet and looked desperately for a human to feed off of. There were none. The rider has chosen his place to fight wisely. They were in an unpopulated sector of the city, or so it seemed. Suddenly, he heard the thunder of rushing hooves and the rider was upon him. Matteus poised his weapon to strike, as the apostite of hell and his steed approached sonic speeds. He felt the air begin to rush around him, and could see a thin blue halo around the steed's skull plate. The rider's weapon had changed from a gun, to an impossibly long blade that dragged behind him, splitting the earth. Then the distance was closed and Matteus was sent soaring once again, a liberal gash etched cleanly through his side. Before he could land he felt rushing wind billowing up behind him and before he could react, felt his back cave under the force of the steed's mighty head. He heard screaming, prayed for the presence of a passerby, and realized the screams were his own. His limp body crashed to the ground, a death twitch crashing through him.
"I can end it now if you like," the rider said, "I feel no pleasure in your pain. Profane on the other hand, " he stroked the mane of the horse, "Profane lives to drink of your blood." The rider expected Matteus to beg and plead for forgiveness as so many before him, but instead Matteus rose on trembling legs. The Profane whinnied in satisfaction, and almost seemed to grin at Matteus. Profane snorted, and begin to gallop towards him. Matteus clutched his bleeding side, and waited for the rider's assault once more. He waited, for the blade to bite into him. And in that moment he grabbed hold of the rider's weapon and propelled himself onto the back of the steed. Before the rider could react he plunged his blade into the riders back and then ripped in an upwards angle, severing the rider's right arm and head from the rest of his body. Instantly, the rider's weapon evaporated from his arm, and affixed itself to Matteus. Matteus grinned at this and then shouted.
"Alright BEAST. Hear me now! I'm coming for you!" And he saw the beast in his mind's eye; infuriated, defiled, and afraid? Yes! Matteus thought. The beast was afraid of Matteus, and what he had become. He grabbed gold of Profane's reigns and gave them a tug, the steed obeying. He felt the pain of death inside him slowly subside, and his wounds healed, "Let's finish this," he said, and Profane snorted in agreement as it began to gallop to unnatural speeds. A clap of thunder erupted around them, and then the horse and his rider crossed over into the world of the damned...
Down they plunged, past the grips of Faustian legend and lore, past Divine Comedy, and into true torment. Matteus was naked now, once again returned to the shameful state that ushered him into the world of men. His steed had also changed. No longer was Profane covered in a pale mane. Such beauty had fled from him and was replaced with sinewous muscle that writhed and fluttered with the horse’s step. Matteus’s brow dripped with sweat, stinging his eyes. And yet, this bothered him not at all. His eyes were poised on his goal. And after what seemed like an eternity of falling, Profane’s brimstone hooves bit into the Golgotha’s hillside, the place of the skulls. There was no slowing of his descent like before, for he came not as a prisoner of he who is most unlclean, but as a mighty conquerer. His steed moved swiftly, paying no heed to the uneven terrain and the legion of the damned that sought to impede their road to victory. Matteus’s weapons extended to unnatural lengths and tore the enemy asunder, adding to his already growing power. Then, one of the beast’s mightiest generals stood before him weilding a weapon similar to Matteus’s.
"Cease derilict!" one of the three said, and extended his blade outward. Seeing the potential sport, Matteus gently pulled back on Profane’s reigns, and the horse slowed to a trot.
"Hello, sir!" Matteus said in a mocking tone, "Nice day today. Wouldn’t you agree?" The general with his weapon poised said,
"Dismount, and bow before your masters." Matteus laughed,
"Wow, that’s some joke. But I’m afraid I’m in no mood for humor," Matteus frowned and pointed one of his weapons at the general, "Strike me from my steed. IF you think you can." The general’s eyes glowed blood red and he let out a deafening screech. His ilk seemed to crawl from the dark prescipeces of hell, and descended upon Matteus. Matteus could feel their swords and teeth bighting into him. He smiled, and with a mighty yell his body glowed brighter than the sun and the general’s serveants were consumed by a blazing inferno. Matteus dusted the ash from his naked body and said,
"Do you always use your serveants to do your dirty work for you?" The general growled and lunged at Matteus, suddenly brandishing a sickle on his right arm. Matteus easily blocked with one blade, and plunged the other into the general’s belly. The general coughed up a putrid substance, that Matteus’s weapon drank deeply from, but before he could deliver the killing blow, the general pulled himself from the blade and backpedaled to his comrades. Matteus smiled and said, "No. No escape." He locked the two blades together, and howled as they began to transform into a cannon. He felt power leave him, and then a blast of soul energy erupted from the barrel, incinerating all in his path. He charged into the burning ash of what once was Satan’s kingdom. Suddenly, Profane letter out a cry of pain and was torn from under him. Matteus lept into the air and landed on the ground in one swift motion. He lifted his eyes and saw his final challenge standing before him. He didnt seem to hold his shape, his eyes black as night. And when he spoke his voice was not of a man, but of the foul dragon that presided over him. He bared no weapon, and he came to Matteus in a form that was as naked as he was.
"And so the prodigal serveant returns!" the beast spoke. Matteus smiled.
"I warned you once, beast. Take my heart, but command me nothing!"
"Yet here you are."
"What are you talking about? I came of my own free will!" The man produced a box and opened it. There inside was a living, beating, human heart. Matteus jerked when he saw this, and suddenly felt afraid. The beast smiled and said,
"It was I who warned you, Matteus," the beast’s hand reached into the box and wrapped it’s claws around the heart, "No bargains, no deals, no epic battles for your soul," he squeezed, and Matteus felt sudden pain well up inside him, "YOU," he squeezed harder, "ARE", Matteus collapsed, clutching the vacant cavity where his heart once was, "MINE."
Matteus writhed on the ground as the beast squeezed even harder. A part of him wanted the beast to just crush his heart so he could be done with it, but he knew the beast would offer no such relief. This was his punishment for going against the will of his master. MASTER, the very thought that Matteus, a conquerer of legions could be controlled turned made him wretch and filled his mind with unbridaled hate. The fact he was helpless to do anything soured his stomach, and made him wretch bile. The beast laughed as Matteus seethed and foamed at the mouth. The beast released his grasp just enough for Matteus to take a halfhearted jab at him, then quickly bared down on his heart again. The bastard was toying with him in the same manner a cat toys with a mouse. Finally the beast spoke.
"I dont get it Matteus, I really dont. I asked you for one thing. One SIMPLE thing. Why do you scorn me? I've given you everything. Power. Wisdom. And yet here you lay, nothing more than a whipped dog at the feet of his master."
"Freedom," Matteus spat, tasting blackened dirt and ash in his mouth, "The one thing you sought to take from me."
"You could've been a king. Mayhaps a GOD. Is freedom really so important? Is it worth tha pain you are enduring now?" Matteus smiled, pain welling up inside him,
"Worth every ounce of pain and more." The beast frowned and squeezed harder, nearly ending Matteus, "What's the matter, Beast? Dont have it in you to finish me off?"
"All in due time you insolent fool," the beast spat, bringing Matteus to the very brink of nothingness. Matteus found a pleasing comfort in teetering on the edge. Slowly, ever so slowly, he staggered to his feet. The beast squeezed harder and dropped Matteus to the ground. And yet, in spite of it, Matteus was able to keep from falling off that edge. His eyes bled crimson tears as the pain enveloped him, and then nothing. He felt numb.
"There's a funny thing about pain," Matteus said, and belched up blood as he rose to one knee. He raised his heavy head so his eyes could meet his enemy's, "When you've endured it for long enough, you feel... NOTHING." He lunged at the figure before he could say anything, and buried his blade into the man's belly. He gasped, not in surprise, but almost in relief. This puzzled Matteus, but he cared nothing for trivial things, as the beast's hand had relinquished it's grip on his heart. He slowly began to rip his way up to the mans chest as he bathed Matteus in his crimson flow, "You were right. No epic battle here. For being the mightiest of the fallen, you're nothing more than a washed up pushover." He turned his blade and ripped his way into the diaphram. He smiled, and pushed the writhing, bleeding hovel to the ground and waited for him to drown in his own fluids. And when he saw his eyes go dead he exclaimed, "I'VE WON!!!" But he was afforded no victory. For in the moment that should have spelled a decisive win, the beast emerged from the fallen corpse in his true form. His eyes were that of a serpeant's, and across his forehead was a name that no man dare utter, for doing so would be the ruination of his soul. His body was that of a dragon's, but he spoke in tongues of the world of men.
"Well done Matteus. Few live long enough to see this form," the beast taunted, "But dont take this half hearted victory as you winning the war. You have made it this far because I have allowed it to be so." Matteus lunged forward and buried his weapon up to the hilt. Yet, the beast only laughed. Matteus soon discovered why, for in the moment his weapon touched the beast, it melted from his arm and returned to its true master.
"No," Matteus said, attempted clawing at the beast's hardened scales, tearing up his fingernails.
"Why do you still fight, Matteus? You habe won! You must savor your victory."
"Won?" Matteus said, stepping back, "Your vile form still stands before me. I will not rest until you are begging for mercy at my feet!" The beast only smiled.
"Mercy? There is no mercy where you stand. There is only suffering. I cannot be slain Matteus. He who is in heaven has willed it as such. For now at least. For now, the sacred order of things is that Hell needs its keeper. He who came before you now lays lifeless at your feet. Feel proud and claim your kingdom!" Matteus recoiled, suddenly realizing what he had done. In slaying Hell's keeper he damned himself to an eternity in its bowels.
"No. NO! I refuse." Matteus spat.
"You think you have a choice, Matteus? You killed Hell's only keeper. Now you must take his place. This is the will and way until another comes who is powerful enough to dethrone you." Matteus grabbed his heart and shouted,
"Then I will end this existence before you can savor such satisfaction!" He hurled his heart off Golgotha, and watched as it was torn apart by the minions who lived in the shadows. The beast bellowed mad gusts of laughter, as Matteus dropped to his knees waiting to receive the fate that awaited him.
"Humans. When they encounter a force they cannot destroy, they inevitably destroy themselves." Matteus could feel the grips of oblivion beaconing, and yet they would not take him into the nothingness.
"No..." Matteus said.
"Yes Matteus. It is done."
"No..." A legion of demons carried him to the throne of lost souls that awaited him. His mind was oblivious, fading into the Beast's. And all that could be heard was the fading echo of his denial across the cliff faces.
No, and no, and no...
John Evans
April 10, 2008
