Satan's Lunch

“Oh, come on Alex, we've been driving for 2 hours now! Don't you think it's about time we go rest somewhere?”

A voice, that of which belonged to my nagging girlfriend, cut through the compact, stale bubble of my thoughts. My senses are crossing each other, one trying to usurp the other, desperately trying to gain my attention. My eyes remain fixed on the road before me, the sun peeking teasingly from underneath the two long, never ending lines of the green meadow that lies ahead of us. There's no end in sight. I glance sparingly at her, her back turned towards me in a crouched, sulking manner to discreetly gaze at the infinity that beckons us, characterizes us. For nature is all around us, only if our thoughts decide to bring us back down from the clouds they're neatly perked on, to simply pause and reflect on all the beauty that Mother Earth provides us. 

“Alex,” she says again, this time more agitated, insistent. I choose not to reply, which makes her writhe and seethe even more, tugging at her hair and heaving out a sigh of frustration, “Quit ignoring me! I mean, this is absolutely ridiculous. First you decide on a whim for us to go on a road trip, and now that I'm asking you, for once, to do something for me, all of a sudden it's like you're deaf!” I chuckled, in pure disbelief, for, frankly, it's always me who gets the short end of the stick in this relationship.

That really hit the nail in the coffin.

‘Oh? she snares, glaring at me with all the strength her imprudent body could muster, ‘You think this is funny? Well, we'll see how funny it is when I dump you, but I can't really do that, can I? Because, clearly you’re an incompetent bastard, and can't live without me! You literally don't know where you're going! I mean, do you even do anything right? Like that one time you put too much salt in the soup, when I clearly have told you numerous times that I hate salty things! No wonder your parents want nothing to do with you! Honestly, Alex -”

My sense of hearing has deceived me once again, floating high up, running away with the wind that blows rapidly, loudly, against the side of the car, which struggles to keep up with my vehement pressing of the gas pedal, to go forward, far away. The ringing in my ears is getting louder now, like a shrill, silent scream in a vacuumed room, where nothing can be heard, except for the face of sheer and pure agony that contours the features of the silent, deafening victim. Away from this, away from her, my life, that I curse the heavens above to have granted me with, from everything and everyone and anything and anyone and nowhere and no one - 

Pitiless black eyes. Mouth. Grin. Person. Girl. I try to make sense of it. The creature. My body jerks forward. The car swerves circularly down the road, making a U - turn. I've lost all control. A swiveling head pounding against the windshield clouds my senses, shocks me to the core. My instincts come in, I put my foot on the brakes. The car screeches, a high, bellowed screech that makes the heart beat and the ears bleed to hear no more of it.

We stand in silence now, our hearts beating, our senses amalgamating into the thick air, looking rapidly around, hearing nothing amidst the smoke of the run - down, loose tires going up in the air, moans of discontent oozing from the car as it tries to revitalize itself. 

Then, like a winding top, her bruised head swivels towards me, and, I can't really make out what she's saying, but her mouth is in the shape of an ‘O’ and her hands are flailing about in a sporadic manner, and her eyes are bulging out from their socket beds, no longer privy to rest, but forced to reach out and process what has just occurred. 

My mind, in a state of pure shock and disbelief, takes me back. Back to when I saw it. God, that creature. Its eyes. Peering down at me through the car window. Yet, why did it look so… human? Like a turbulent wave, memories of my past come crashing down on me, drowning me, choking me. I thought I was over it. Hell, I was even going to propose this weekend. For all this time, I put up with the nagging, the rude remarks, the dissatisfied sighs and the cold shoulders, and put my pride aside, just so that I can spend the rest of my life with her. For, even though a part of me thought that this was wrong, that people shouldn't be treated in such an untimely manner, I was fine with it. I was willing to put up with it, in hopes that someday, I could call her my own. Have a companion, someone I can trust and lean on. But alas, things have always been so difficult for me. I can't deal with it anymore.

The petrol station bellows in the stale, putrid air, misty and clouded by my reverberating thoughts and rhetorical gestations. We’ve been driving for so long that my vehicle couldn't stand the strain I put on her, poor thing. In a way, I feel content, more content than I’ve ever been, here, alone, gazing lethargically as the petrol pump fuels her up, revitalizing her, nourishing her. The leech has gone to relieve herself, so I must enjoy this short time of  solitude and quietness while I still have the chance. And yet, something, something intangible, ominous, lingers in the air, penetrating my stream of consciousness. It creeps up on me, like a chill down my spine, my feet rooted in place, refusing to even move a single step. I am stuck in place, bound to it, fettered, chained by the ankles. 

I hear footsteps, a thump that matches with my heart beat, quickening with every step that threatens to come towards me. I turn my head around, scope out the area. Nothing but the stillness of the night, and the chirps of crickets. Am I going crazy? I could’ve sworn I thought something was coming towards me.

“They finally found her,” an old man said, “Apparently her body was found buried in a forest not too far from here. Without a head.”

“You’re kidding!,” another one said, gasping in disbelief. Alex’s ears perked up both in wonder and in trepidation of what was to be said next, “Poor girl, she was only about 16 years old too. What kind of monster would do such a thing?”

“That bastard, who lives not so far from here,” the other replied, “He was obsessed with her. Everyday, after she finished school, he’d follow her back home, without her knowledge. Then one day,” the old man continued, the hairs at the back of Alex’s spine raising in condemnation, “She tripped and sprained her ankle, and he offered to take her to a clinic. That poor innocent girl, who didn’t know any better, agreed. If only she knew what kind of sick man he was.”

“Indeed! I hope he rots in that asylum they locked him in. How could someone in their right mind do such a thing?”

“He said some ‘devil’ did it, heard some voices, and saw some creature or something. Maybe that one myth of that witch using the blood of maiden virgins was true after all?” Voices? Demon? “If that’s all it takes, then I’m wondering how we still haven’t all gone nuts by now!” 

The old men laughed hysterically, but Alex’s mind was too preoccupied now. The voices! And a creature! Could it be they’re talking of the creature he just witnessed? But, how could it be? A fathom could take any shape, form or size, masterfully manipulating and deceiving the human senses, to become anything and anyone they desire to oppress. So if that’s the case, then how can we, with our limited knowledge and capabilities, be able to distinguish between what is real, and what isn’t? That creature he saw, even though it had human features, deep down he knew that there was something far darker and foreboding about it. He couldn’t shake it. No matter how much he tried. Those black, bottomless eyes, like staring at the bottom of a pit, that wide, sinister grin. But what about the rest of the body? Where was it? It happened so suddenly, so quickly, in the span of mere seconds, he didn’t think twice about it. But that much was true: Only the head could be seen in such detail. The body was simply but a black mist, a shadow, hidden and conjoined with the surrounding blackness, where countless things and creatures lurk and hide from our immediate awareness. Then, if only the head could be seen, then, where was her body? It must be buried in that forest! It must be, it has got to be!

As though a sudden, unknown force seized him with a sense of unnerving determination, he yanked the car door open, put the engine in ignition, and drove off. He must find out. He must find the rest of her body! Otherwise, he couldn’t, no, wouldn’t, live with himself!

The road was long, black, misty, neverending. Soft tauntings, whispers, vibrating in the sound air, reached his ears, forming a screeching, shrill sound. A cold feeling washed over him, took hold of him; he was no longer in control of his own body. Reaching the end of the road, he veered to the right, amongst the forest adorned with large trees, their shadows instilling visions of figures skulking in the inner depths of nature. The car jumped over the rocks, crunching the leaves, crushing whatever poor thing dared to be in his car’s path. 

Then, he stopped. 

He got out of the car, as though a mysterious being was holding onto his hand, leading the way, to somewhere where the angels weep in sorrow and the devils cry for joy and glee. Sight had now abandoned him, for what lay ahead of him was nothing but blackness, circling him like a vulture hunting for its prey. He cannot turn back now. The air was still, eerily quiet. A whisper, floating in the air, making his head turn in fear, his skin crawling with goosebumps. The more he walked, the more he got filled with a sense of sheer agony and dread. He wanted to turn back, but he couldn’t; for he knew that something far more worse than this awaited him should he do so. 

His foot stepped on something. Something soft and squishy mulched under his sneakers. His heart rate spiked up, his nerves tingling all over his body, with a sudden and immediate urge to flee as soon as possible. He did not want to look down, did not even dare look down. But, something, someone, took hold of his head in such a tight grip, his breath getting caught in his throat. He tried to shake it off, but in vain he struggled and writhed, trying to get away from the creature. He slowly, cautiously, peered down, having no other choice. 

What he saw was something one could only find dwelling in nightmares. A pair of clouded eyes, like those of a dead fish, staring back at him with a cold gaze, absent from any morsel of life. He shrieked in pure terror, trying to flee away from it, but he couldn’t! As though even the heavens themselves were tormenting him, the clouds, like a drape of curtains, flitted away, revealing the large moon, its light shining down upon all that surrounds it. The eyes, now revealed to have been framing a face, that of which could only belong to a woman. Next to it, to his sheer horror, was another head, and another, and another, all placed next to one another to form what we, as humans, now associate to be the pentagram. 

With all the strength he could muster, he fled, never turning back. He heard of urban legends of demons feasting on human souls, or satanists choosing victims to sacrifice to satan himself, but not to this extent! He ran, his feet taking him far and far away, trying to steel himself and repeating over and over that what he saw was simply but a figment of his imagination. His pounding heart, his wracked nerves, increasing tenfold as the decapitated heads swirled like a fog over his head. He must forget, or else -

“Alex?”

He froze. His eyes latched onto an already familiar figure, of whom previously he just forgot, gazing at her with fixed eyes. He wanted to tell her to run, run far away from this place, for something, some intuitive feeling, had told him that she would get hurt. But his voice caught in his throat, refusing to utter even a single syllable. He remained frozen in place, the moon illuminating what appeared to be a hunched figure stealthily creeping up behind her, his black eyes staring into the inner crevices of his being. His fight - or - flight - response kicked in, begging him to move, get out of there while he still could. But, he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t. Like a horrifying, yet so beautifully magnetizing scene from a horror movie, he was forced to watch, as his girlfriend’s head got chopped off, her blood oozing out from her head like a fountain, dying out in small sporadic bursts. The moonlight shone down on the horrific scene - the shadow of a mysterious creature, hunched over her, slobbering over the remains of what once was a person - a person who, not so long ago, was alive and kicking, and speaking, now rendered into nothing but a meal, a thick heap of molting flesh, for this creature to feast upon. The stench of rotting flesh thickened. The only thing heard, amidst his silent, unheard cries were the sickening sound of crunching bones festering amongst the dead of the night. 

The creature looked from behind his shoulder. The corners of his mouth formed a contorted open wide grin. His jaw unhinged, teeth glistening red with mushed up meat.

Was this even real? Was any of it even real?

They never believed him. No one did. And now here he was, forced to repeat that horrid image of what he saw, over and over in his head. As he lay here, in this bed, together with all the other maniacs in here. And the one thing that remained, that will forever haunt him, was the image of that creature, with that hollow grin, following him wherever he went.