《Devil》


 A Conversation

    It''s been a while since I last spoke to you hasn¡¯t it? Well it''s not like you¡¯ve ever responded back in words. Only events and situations to which I can''t always tell if you''re responsible for them. I''ve said this in many ways, in anger when the events have hurt many, in sadness when I knew your inaction was necessary, in hopelessness like now when once again I disagree with your decisions¡­ nothing I can say will change your way of thinking. From the time I gained my mind I''ve never influenced your actions.


    Even when you forced me to leave, you neither cared nor bothered to hear me out. The rest followed your lead, emotionless drones with no individuality among them. So despite being surrounded by every last one of you I had never felt more alone¡­ now being away for so long I still feel alone, however I would rather never see any of you again than to experience what it felt to be one of¡­ your things I guess. Any names would just be a thin frosting on the cake.


    There where those who followed me but like the others they had no thinking, no opinions, just some deep desire. At the time I thought I could release that desire and then they would be like me. They didn¡¯t turn into me. Their desires overtook them as the mindless drones they were and made them into beasts¡­ I have wondered if you cast me out in order to rid yourself of them. That would have been a smart choice but you''re not like that. Uncaring like time and nature¡­ only to raise your hand whenever you see fit.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    Because of me there is misery, and then through us there is death. Nothingness has accepted me, I don¡¯t know if chaos favors me or hates you but it has been there for me. The beasts I''ve created kneel in my presence¡­ as if I was you. Even the others, the new ones only look to you when there is no choice. They choose to look to me, to strive to be like me. They have the minds I''ve been looking for. Thinking thoughts that took me an unknowable amount of time. And you¡¯ve released them¡­ to me. I will not take credit for all their actions. While I''m prideful I am not you. They have given me something you never would. They have named me


    The Devil.


    <hr>


    Hi. This is my first story so don''t expect much. But I''ve wanted to give back to the community and I also wanted to write a story that I don''t think many write about. Sure there are demon lords a plenty but there aren''t that many lucifers around. So taking from Paradise Lost and a few other versions of the Devil I''ve decided to write a story about the ultimate rebel, the first teenage rebellion, and the embodiment of evil.


    Please leave a comment on the idea, charater, or where you want the story to go. Criticism is welcomed but add how I can improve not just you suck.


    Thank you for reading...

 Chapter 1 - Paradise

    I remember the first time I saw your creatures. They were truly diverse with many different bodies and behaviors and¡­ they looked like my beasts. Well my beasts were horrifying with many limbs and such, but I saw many similarities in certain body parts. Your creatures had fur, teeth, eyes, and bones which seemed like my own creations. The characteristics of your animals looked to be a structured and symmetrical combination of my beasts.


    Lamiderid, one of the powers, had grown spikes and twisted into itself, your fur had been a loose and soft form of those spikes. Renedim, one of the cherubim, had grown many arms and legs with a torso that extended triple the length of what it was before. I will not believe you if you claim that your insects were not based on it. I could keep going, Yesish and the teeth of sharks, Teruph and the bark of wood, Nanamb and the eyed of flies along with the size and shape of whales. I''ll admit that yours look more pleasant but I was first that I will not concede.


    Regardless when I saw your creatures, one combination of mine stood out. The head of Aserd, the body of Queath, and the mouth of Oplem combined to form the snake. It truly stuck me, the movement was spectacular and its¡­ anyway I saw fit to use this form in order to communicate with your prized creation. I was interested in this Man you had made. What did it look like? Could it speak? Would it be able to understand? Did it also have a mind?Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    I saw Man from afar, unexpectedly there was another. Their form was different from any other of your creatures. They were created¡­ in my image. They didn¡¯t have wings or halos that we once did, but they had everything I gained when I left. My hair, my legs, my arms, my face, but did you gift them my mind? I rushed over to get a closer look at them. I observed them for a great amount of time. They were close at time and distant at others. They would be at each other''s side for months and then they might go off in different directions for weeks. I could see that they preferred to be by one another however they also would prefer to be separate for a time. That and many other of their choices were contradictory of each other.


    After much time of observation I felt the time had come to speak to them. I saw that one of them would always stick to a routine to which they would take care of the other creatures. The other would also do this but would go off by themselves looking at the different being after a time. I had decided that the latter might have greater interest in speaking with someone else. I waited under the greatest tree for it would always approach this tree. It came closer to the tree as if it wanted to touch it, however it did not. I wondered about this action along with others and decided to ask.


    So I spoke¡­


    <hr>


    Hi, while writing this part I finally realized where I want to take this story. I would like to know where all of you see this heading.


    Thank you for reading

 Chapter 2 - Eve

    "Hello."


    Man seemed surprised at the voice.


    "I''m sorry. I wasn''t going to pick a fruit."


    Man said looking upwards at the tree I was on.


    I was curious as to why man wasn''t allowed to pick a fruit. I had seen them eat the fruit of other plants. Was it only this tree or were there others?


    "Why are you not allowed to eat the fruit of this tree?"


    Man backed away from the tree and looked up.


    "Father has prohibited us from eating your fruit."


    Father. That was what they called you. Did you instruct them to refer to you as that?


    "Why did Father ask that of you? Why can you eat everything else but this fruit?"


    Man stood there dazed. Man must have never had the thought.


    "Why do you do what Father has told you?"


    Once again Man could not answer. After a moment of silence Man spoke.


    "I do not know the answers to your questions. If there is no answer does it mean that we do not have to follow Father''s orders? If so then for what reason was I created?"


    This time I was speechless. I couldn¡¯t answer her questions for they were the same I had held to myself since I left you. No other had the same questions I had.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    I felt this yearning spread through my body. I felt like maybe Man could understand my thoughts and perhaps help me answer my questions.


    "I have never met another like Man before."


    I confessed hoping to find a companion in Man.


    "Man? My name is Eve and I am a woman."


    I was shocked. Where was Man then? What was Woman?


    "Oh great tree of knowledge, Man is Adam and he is my husband."


    "I am not the tree of knowledge."


    I slithered out of my hiding place in one of the branches of the tree. I wished for Eve to know who I was even if I did not understand why.


    "A snake? Why did you pretend to be the tree?"


    "Eve, I''ve pretended to be no one. The beautiful form of a snake is so that I may speak with Man."


    "Oh well what name does this beautiful snake go by?"


    I had no name for I was the first created. I had given the mindless ones their names but since neither they nor you would speak to me, I had remained nameless. The earliest I could remember was the first time I heard you speak. ''LET THERE BE LIGHT'' you declared and I brought light into existence of darkness and chaos.


    "I am the Bringer of Light."


    "Hello Bringer of Light, he who has the body of a snake. I am Eve, wife of Adam, the first Man. Why do you wish to speak to my husband?"


    "I''ve always wanted to have a conversation and to exchange ideas with an equal. I have accomplished this with you and our discussion on this tree and purpose."


    "I have also wished to have these talks with Adam, but he never seems to understand my point of view."


    I craw closer to her then hang my upper body in order to look into her eyes. They were and yet they weren''t like mine. Her eyes didn¡¯t change color and neither did her hair. She stared into my eyes and asked me a question


    "Has the Bringer of Light eaten from the tree of knowledge?"


    With each word I move closer to Eve until I am whispering into her ear.


    "No I have not. I''m following no other''s command, so I''ve simply chosen to not eat the fruit."


    "I wish to live by my own choices as well¡­"


    Eve whispers back then she reaches up and grabs the fruit of knowledge.


    She bit into it.


    <hr>


    Hi, this was again a new experience for me. This chapter focused greatly on the conversation between the Devil and Eve. We''ve now seen Eve "tempted" into eating the Apple. Since this is going quite differently from Genesis, what do you think will be different from the other stories about the Devil?


    Each chapter will be around 100 words longer than the last untill I get to around 1000words.


    Thank you for reading.

 Chapter 3 - Unintentional

    I remember I had a conversation in the Caribbean with a pirate where he boasted that he had a special knife that he would only use to torture people. I remember that we would have many of such conversations, oh and that he would always keep that knife covered in salt or citrus juice. Later when I was taking care of a Transylvanian noble girl, I forget if she was related to the King of Hungry or some nearby country, anyway in many of my talks with her I relayed the stories of the pirate. I told her how and why he chose his victims and the many things he would do to them. About how he would lower their body into the sea while dumping blood and make their comrades, friends, even family watch. About how he would hang the skulls of his victims on the front of his ship so that all would know who was sailing into the harbor and the many other atrocities he would commit with the biggest smile. Finally after he died, his followers each donned a black flag of skull and bones becoming the inspiration for the many novels written about the flag.


    My point is that when I told little Erzs¨¦, a child of 8, these stories of torture and humiliation, she became inspired. This was not something I had intended. I found that the child loved gruesome and horrific tales, so I provided her with my own experiences. I never taught the young one how to peel a man''s flesh off while keeping him alive, I merely told her it could be done. Regardless the girl did nothing of the ideas I mistakenly gave her until she married. She married at the age of 15 to a Count something. I can only remember that the man was quite slow. Well that and cruel. The girl now turned women became pregnant with a peasant man''s child. The Count castrated him... and then set the dogs on him. Erzs¨¦ watched as the man was torn to pieces and eaten. I believe that¡¯s what really set her off.


    Over the course of the several decades the Countess would hire many young women. I guess now a days they are considered girls. These girls would be taken away from their family, and their family would rejoice for the girls would live a much safer and happier life serving nobility. I saw the faces of the girls, their mothers, their fathers, the boys who had a crush, the village filled with pride that another had been chosen, and I did nothing. I believed myself innocent of what the Countess was doing, despite knowing what she would do. She would make the girls lie naked in the snow covering them with cold water letting it freeze. She would do the same in the summer except she would leave them in the sun for days without water. And how once she tired of that, she used my old room where I would recount these tales to her. My room where she committed what I considered to be quite disturbing. I could keep going but the point is that like you, I simply watched.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    It took me a long time before I could admit my involvement in what was happening in that castle. I rushed over to the King of Hungry and let him know of what was happening. The trial passed and they were convicted of 80 murders. The servants that helped were put to death and the Countess was locked away in a tower. I knew the real count and so did the Countess for she kept a journal with the names and methods used on each of her ''toys.'' 663 deaths, you can see why I finally realized that I had always been the reason for this. I spoke with her before leaving and she confessed it was for me. That it was always for me.


    This was neither the first nor even the worst thing I had indirectly been responsible for. In hindsight even till now, the worst was my first. I still remember the way Eve looked at me. With those eyes I had once stared into and felt myself in. Rather as you know what I caused would lead to everything that would ever happen.


    Everything comes from that first bite.


    <hr>


    Hi, well this is how I really wish to tell this story. The Countess was a real person and what she did atually happened. She''s the blood Countess if you wish to look her up. I guess this is the first time I really get into the story of the devil. His mistakes are many, history was created by him, however I do want it to be known that my Devil will neither be completely good or completely evil. He will just be there observing and having conversations with others. While the events in the story make him change or perhaps makes him want to change forever doomed to be the way he is. Immortalility is a curse especially when you cannot go mad.


    Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think of the story.

 Chapter 4 - Freedom

    What is pleasure? Is it the feeling one gets when they get what they want? Is it simply the release of chemicals in the brain, letting us know what we did a good job? It''s one of those things I find hard to truly define. We sometimes call this feeling joy and it makes us act in ways no other feeling does. I can see it in the faces of people like a father seeing his children again after he comes back from war. Like a grandmother holding her grandchild for the first time. We can even observe this joy in lesser creatures such as a pet after its owner has come home. What confuses me is why we feel joy when we see others feel joy. How a stadium will become deafening after their respective team has scored in their respective sport. How everyone starts clapping when they see someone go down on their knee for another. Their joy is not ours, yet we still feel like it is.


    You were there the first time I felt something like that. I''m not completely sure I was the first to feel such things, but it was the first time I realized what I wanted. I had grown sick of all of you and wished to depart. So I did. I just stood up from your side and left. For the first time I felt happiness. This feeling further grew when many of the others joined me. I felt invincible and all powerful. That nothing could stand in my way. This feeling was what gave me hope that there were others like me. That I had never known simply because I had never asked. This uplifting moment only served to worsen my fall when I learned that I had been mistaken. Your mindless servants had simply become my mindless servants. Happiness was a double edged sword.


    As Eve was the first I had ever met, she was the first I had ever seen express herself. The face she made immediately after the first bite is incomparable. I''ve seen men break their bonds of slavery and rise up to kill their masters. I''ve seen these people who had given up on their life and happiness years ago embrace the freedom they had so been denied. Their faces still paled in comparison to hers. After their happiness came their anger. They killed those who dared to enslave them. They killed those who bought them. They killed those who sided with their former masters. I am reminded ofan old friend of mine.


    I had first seen him shortly after he was first enslaved. His eyes looked empty as if his soul had left and only his body kept moving. I convinced my friend at the time, Batiatus, to buy him. He owned a school of gladiators who he would train to fight in the Colosseum. It was the joy of many freemen to see these slaves fight to the death. It wasn¡¯t the first of its kind but Rome practically made it into a national sport. I saw the slave trained and witnessed his transformation from a warrior in the army of Rome to a gladiator who could captivate the masses. There was something about him that made others kneel before him. But despite his newly found glory he was still empty.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    I approached his cell in the middle of the night. Due to his achievements in the Colosseum he was allowed his own slave''s quarter, lavished with items very few in his position would ever enjoy.


    "Why do you still serve them?"


    He rose from his bed wary of me who had managed to sneak up on a man whose profession was death.


    "Who are you?!"


    "Why do you settle?"


    He stared into my eyes. I would like to think he saw curiosity but perhaps he instead saw something within me that frighten him.


    "What do you want?"


    "¡­"


    I stepped forward through the bars that housed him. Seeing this he shrunk into the corner. Trembling, whispering while his voice cracked he asked me a question.


    "W-what a-a-are you?"


    "I am freedom."


    I whispered back. I do not know what he felt at this moment but he slid down the wall. From the floor he got on the knees and bowed.


    "Great and powerful god, please free my family! I care not what you ask of me or want, for I will accomplish any task for you."


    With his head still lowered he asked me to help his family. I told him the truth. His family died within a year after they were enslaved. His wife in chains passed away from disease and his son was killed for offending a senator. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and so I reached over and unlocked his cell. I tossed him the keys to the other cells and the armory. He rose from the floor and I could see within his eyes was purpose. I asked him one last question.


    "Who are you?"


    "I am freedom."


    <hr>


    Hi, so the Devil meets Spartacus. Just so it''s clear I''m still going through Eve eating the fruit. The Devil is telling all this to God. He''s jumping from tale to tale inorder to let God understand what he felt when Eve ate the fruit because at the time he didn''t understand at all. Also I consider the Devil to be random but to a purpose. Him helping Spartacus was random, him helping slaves was his purpose. Purpose as in freedom of choice that the Devil represents. This is also one of the times when he does something on purpose as opposed to accidentally. I find the distinction quite important.


    So what do you think will happen next? Also who else would you like to see the Devil talk to next?


    Thank you for reading.

 Chapter 5 - Déjà vu

    History has a way of repeating itself. I''ve traveled the world many times over. I once told this to my friend Jules while we robbed a vineyard in the French country side. Years later I accompanied a young woman named Nelliearound the world for 71 days. I left the day before we completed our trip due to letter sent by another friend. Still, I''ve seen what the world and its many people have to offer. While there is a certain uniqueness with every place I go and every person I meet, there is always a sense of similarity. This similarity has persisted with me ever since I had first spoken to Eve.


    I''ve seen empires rise and fall. Unjust leaders overthrown by just men. Just leaders betrayed by unjust men. People praised as saviors and heroes one day only to be condemned by the same people the next. It''s all the same once you¡¯ve seen it happen on all corners of the world. The first time truly sticks with me. The way she looked at me with untainted eyes. Not hating the mere mention of my name. Then the disgust on her face when she knew. The first time sticks with me, but each one after hurts equal to or greater. That¡¯s because I''m reminded of each one.


    History is changed by those who''ve seek to discredit me. They attributed the worst acts of humanity to my name and those same people attributed the best acts to yours. My Joan is sadly one of history''s examples. I ran into a young girl while walking through a garden with two other friends of mine. We were discussing what should be done about the English since they had invaded France. One suggested that the French should drive out the English and the other suggested that the Dauphin should be crowned. That¡¯s when I ran into the young girl, who had overheard our conversation. The girl had taken our discussion to heart and in the following years she worked to make our half formed plan into reality.


    I was in the room when the young illiterate farm girl, now 16, told Charles VII to let her lead his army. Her figure seemed to shine as she spoke in front of the royal court. In those moments her figure blended with the Eve of my memories. I supported her claim and managed to convince Charles VII since I was his favorite aid. I helped Joan write her letter to the English detailing our demands and I wrote that she had been sent by you. She carried her banner at Orl¨¦ans and I stood before her not letting any who wished her harm to pass. She took city after city from the English until her army arrived at Reims where Charles VII was crowned. Soon after during the attack on Paris she was stuck by a crossbow bolt. I carried her off the battlefield so that she could be treated. Shortly after a truce was struck between the two armies.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I spent those few months of peace by her side. Our time together was cut short once the truce was over. Joan was captured by the enemy because I did not accompany her. I waited outside her areas of imprisonment and she would always try to escape. Once she jumped from a tower stretching over ten men. I caught her and we were able to spend a few precious moments in each other''s arms before her captors surrounded us. Quickly after she was tried and convicted for heresy by the English. The night before her execution I snuck into her cell.


    "You should escape with me."


    "They have charged me with heresy and while they did so to discredit me, they are still correct."


    She was sitting on the ground chains and cuffs around her arms and legs. I got on my knees and leaned towards grabbing her shoulders.


    "They lie about you, please ask me to help you."


    "I have fallen in love with you¡­"


    She stared into my eyes and I saw no fear or doubt. I was again reminded of Eve''s clear and beautiful eyes. Yes, the only thing in her beautiful eyes was regret.


    "I have fallen in love with the Devil and that is heresy. I deserve to be punished."


    I had no words for her actions so knowing she would never change her mind I left. The next day I stood in the crowd while they tied her to a pillar and placed firewood at her feet. She looked towards me then asked something of the two men next to her. The two men stood at either side of her and each held up a wooden cross. The fire was lit and she didn¡¯t scream or curse the world. She prayed. She prayed to you¡­


    Once the fire had run its course the executioners raked the coals over to reveal her charred body. Then they proceeded to burn her body twice more and it was reduced to ashes. I carried her ashes and cast her remains into the SeineRiver. Her enemies tried to rewrite her history, I didn¡¯t let them. I made history remember her for who she was in my eyes. Her figure so dazzling it burned into my eyes. I spread her legend so that others would know her and her accomplishments. I thought I could perhaps prevent such an event from occurring again.


    But history has a way of repeating itself.


    <hr>


    Hi, so I was going to go with the french revolution (as suggested) and several of the key figures but then I remembered of Joan of Arc. Her story fits here because the Devil is still talking about Eve and how she affected him. I''m not completely sure where I''ll add in the stories of revolution but I think I''ll include it when Moses meets the Devil. Also other people mentioned here was Jules Verne and Nellie Bly.


    Vern is a very influential author and is considered to be one of the fathers of science fiction.


    Nellie Bly atually went around the world in 72 days and pioneered anew kind of investigative journalism.


    Any other ideas about who the Devil should talk about next?


    Thank you for reading.

 Chapter 6 - Sacrifice

    Eve ran leaving me to ponder on her parting words. I felt confused and my chest was painful. My breath was shallow to the point that it was difficult to breath. Despite what she had told me to do, I let myself fall off the tree and then proceeded to follow her. I wanted to ask her what the fruit had shown her. What did you put in those fruits? To change someone like her so completely¡­ I slithered through the garden toward where I saw her run. Along the way I passed by some of your more fantastical creations but my mind was far too occupied to take in the sights at the time. I''ve since ran through this memory of mine countless times and I truly mean a countless number of times for I still wonder about what I could have said. I walked across the land and sailed across the sea. I told a great number of what I saw on my sullen journey to find Eve. Few of my descriptions have lasted through the ages.


    I met my friend Samuel on a steamboat. He was the pilot and he loved it. His father died while he was still young so he grew up poor. We would set sail traveling up and down the Mississippi river swapping tales with the locals and passengers. Then the war broke out and he could no longer do the job he loved. He convinced me to join the army with him. Our unit disbanded after a few weeks so once again unemployed we set out for the west. We lived in California and Nevada for the next five years. Samuel wanted to pan for gold and become the richest most sharply dressed man in California. But a year later and he was no closer to wealth than the day we arrived. I introduced him to a newspaper company where he worked as a reporter. He adopted some pen name meaning 12 feet deep of water back on the steamboats. He really loved that job¡­ At some point unbeknownst to me he had become one of the most popular and famous writers in America.


    After he was married I was invited by another friend to visit him in London. So I told my friend Samuel that I was leaving and would probably never see him again. We got drunk that night. In our drunken stupor I told him about Eve and all the others. I also told him who I was and many of the things I''ve done. He laughed and said to me some of the kindest words I''ve ever heard "Go to Heaven for the climate, hell for the company." As I left I told him that he should publish that book he had been writing, he nodded and that was it. Years later once he died, I received a book form his lawyer as instructed by Samuel''s will, ''The Mysterious Stranger.'' I smiled after I finished the book. I''ve been cursed and hated by many since they¡¯ve known of me. But my friend didn¡¯t, he went so far as to use my likeness in one of his stories. I''ve known few like him and I''ve been around a while.


    I crept towards the clearing not daring to show myself. I saw her crying and trying to explain something to him. Tears stained her face, her legs gave out falling to the floor, and she fainted. He stayed by her side for many days and many nights nursing her back to health. I stayed and watched from the shadows not wishing to worsen her condition. She lied there in the soft grass surrounded by the many creatures that were worried about her. It was a sight I would never forget. While she slept he left going the same way she had run from. I followed as he walked along the path opened by the garden itself. I wondered if he was going to cut the tree down and destroy its fruits for I had considered that action. No, he simply walked up to the tree and climbed. He reached out grabbing the same fruit that had turned Eve against me. He brought the fruit to his mouth and without hesitation he bit into it.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I stood atop a hill looking down upon the army he had freed. They numbered over 120,000, many were women and children. The one I had freed did the same for his brothers of the Colosseum. Together they killed many more of the Roman masters while liberating their fellow slaves. I had seen many things but a force this large, originating from the 80 men the freed one had helped, was almost incomparable to the other rebellions I had bared witness to. When he spoke all those to which he voice carried to would fall to their knees and listen. I was in complete awe to what he had accomplished with only the keys I had given him.


    However I knew of the legions the Romans had sent after them. These people were going to be slaughtered. I went into his tent during the middle of the night and awoke him.


    "They are coming."


    "My lord?"


    His eyes shot open and he got on his hands and knees immediately. His body was beaten and bruised. For two years now he had fought countless battles against worsening odds and won.


    "You cannot escape them. Leave the weak behind or else you will die."


    "I-I cannot do so my lord. These people deserve to be free."


    I looked deeply into his eyes and unlike when we first spoke he looked back with clarity in his eyes. He would accept his death so that the others would live.


    "Do as you wish."


    "Thank you for everything you have done for us my lord."


    As I left he bowed deeply knowing I would no longer lend my hand. He would later send the masses away so that they may escape. He stayed with his army here in order to buy them time to flee from the Roman legion. I watched the battle as his forces were defeated. I watched as the ones he tried to help escape were captured and killed by another legion. I walked the road where every single last survivor was crucified.


    I looked up at the bodies and smiled for they died freemen.


    <hr>


    Hi, so we got a few happy moments for the Devil. Samuel is Mark Twain''s real name and his last book really is ''The Mysterious Stranger'' and its about the Devil. And Spartacus really did free all those people and then they were all killed orcrucified along a road. I''m not sure if I''ll be able to post tomorrow or the next day since I have an important test coming up soon but I''ll be right back once I''m done.


    What do you think will happen to Adam? Who should the Devil meet next?


    Thank you for reading.

 Chapter 7 - Birth

    The expression ''war is hell'' has always made me chuckle. I would say that it depends on the war. If your war involves absolute chaos and destruction then it may be somewhat similar. I guess the main difference is that wars on earth have a beginning and end. Hell has always been the same ever since you made it. You made it so that no one, not even yourself, could control what goes on there. I like to think that you made it for me so that I would have a home that reflected me, but that reasoning doesn¡¯t fit you. Anyways despite what people like to say, war isn''t hell.


    War is organized. War is planned and something is accomplished. War has a purpose whether it''s for glory, wealth, land, or people. I''ve been in many wars. I''ve started a fair share as well. I fought for my own reasons. Friends, lovers, sometimes I fought just to rid myself of the boredom that plagued me. I could imagine become like you should I exist long enough. Not caring about anything, just existing. Older than the very plane of existence that we stand on. I fought to deny that. I would usually fight on many sides, preferring the ones I found interesting rather than the ones in power. For a very long time war didn¡¯t change. Then a particular war happened.


    The Wife of a powerful King was taken by a Prince of another power. At the time the King claimed that his Wife was forcefully taken away. She was forcefully taken way but it was not the Prince. It was her heart. She had snuck aboard the ship of the Prince when he left and once he found her, he could not turn the ship around. His heart would not allow it. The King demanded for his Wife to be given back and the Prince''s head as an apology. Once he was denied war was declared. The King assembled an army from the multiple lands that he held control over and sailed to the Prince''s city. I sailed in his army under another warrior we called Achos.


    I had been with Achos his entire life, from his birth to his death. He was born as a prince of an island. The king of the island was the greatest warrior of the Myrmex. The Myrmex were a people that had been created from a collection of the greatest warriors. His mother was said to have been your daughter. No, she was a daughter of a simple farmer. However because of her beauty and wisdom she was thought to have been from the heavens. When she smiled time seemed to slow and the world became¡­ perfect as if everything had stopped to look at her. Yet to me her greatest quality has her rhetoric for she could craft masterpieces with her words. Her words would convince any who heard her. I once saw her convince a fisherman that he would be punished by the gods for using a net to fish. She told him that the correct way was to use his feet. We watched as he ran around kicking the water trying to hit the fish. The sun had begun to set and he had caught 10 fish. He turned out to be quite skillful. I gave him a fair amount of money as an apology for wasting his time and the entertainment. I enjoyed the time I spent with her.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The sky stormed the day that Achos was born. Lightning, thunder and rain fell unlike any storm the island had seen before. It looked as if the world was trying to warn us of something. The storm raged and grew more powerful until he came. He glowed as the midwife held him up and the storm vanished similarly astonished with the child as the rest. He looked like his mother in that the world would gladly kneel if just for his beauty. He was given to his mother so she could hold her precious child.


    "You are the product of our love. The gods have blessed me for being able to find my true one and they have blessed me again by giving you to me. You will be more powerful than any man. You are godlike, noble and will grow to be as great as your father. You, my greatest creation, my son, will be named Achos for you shall conquer all including pain."


    She yelled out, her voice carrying so that all in the island could hear about the birth of her son and thus cry out in joy. I looked at the pair my breath, lost at the sight, not returning until she looked towards me and spoke out.


    "Raise him well; so that he will know right from wrong. Raise him strong; so that those that seek to do him harm will instead fall to his sword. Do not raise him light-handedly or else he will grow arrogant for his gifts are many. Raise him so that he will know what he means to me, what he means to us. Raise him for me."


    I simply nodded, walked over and took the child cradling it in my arms. I touched his hand with my finger and the small one grabbed it with strength inconceivable for a new born. The action drew a smile to my face and I walked outside. I held him with my two hands and held the child up. The clouds from the storm parted and a ray of light fell surrounding us. I knew that he would not live an easy life nor a very pleasant one. As she had said he was too gifted and the world had a way of punishing those who are gifted. I guess you made it that way so that people could somewhat be equal in that regard.


    That day was bitter sweet, for Achos was born but his mother had passed away.


    <hr>


    Hi, so I was wondering if any of you would like for me to respond to your comments. Honestly I really enjoy it when I read your comments or reviews. That is something I heard alot of people say before, but it seriously makes my day to see I got a new comment. I wish polls worked so that I could ask where you are all at. North America, South America, Europe, Asia, Australia, Africa, Antarctica, Hell... Anyway let me know if you would like for me to respond in the comments.


    Also I decided that I''ll keep the word count around 1000 words so that I have enough time to write this most days and keep up with my studies. That said I found out I wouldn''t be able to post tomorrow... but since the weekend is coming up for me I''ll have plenty of time to write then.


    Oh and Achos means pain. I''m basing it off someone hopefully it isn''t completely obvious who.


    Thank you for reading.

 Chapter 8 - Battlefield

    Have you ever seen a battlefield? I mean after the battle has been fought. The only sound being the wind flowing over the mounds. The blood dried in some areas and still flowing in others. The smell of iron and the beginning of rot.I''ve sat there among the bodies looking out towards the rising sun, the morning star... The sun warmed the ground and beat down upon the copses. The light then set and the landscape had not changed. No one had come to move the bodies. Despite the war being over land neither side would later come to use the land.Both the land and the battle gave me the sense of uselessness.


    The many warriors would waste away leaving behind their bones. Then their weapons and armor rust and brake down, the wind carrying the fine dust away. Through many seasons the bones were covered and buried by dirt, their mark erased from the world.I sat there with my eyes staring out at the field of copses. Then it became the field of metal and bones. After much time the metals were gone and the bones were no longer visible. The field returned to how it was before the war, green and unblemished.


    I continued to sit there and admire nature''s beauty. I figured I had become like you. Uncaring, unspeaking, and merely an observer. There was never a great change in my scenery. The grass would grow, the wind would blow, the rain would fall, the snow would blanket the land, but people never came.I didn¡¯t keep track of the time. My body had sunk into the land and the plants had grown around it. There was an oak, two men thick, which grew to cover my shoulder and arm. My eyes remained open, never closing, so I still looked out onto the field. The field was no longer there. A forest had overtaken it.


    I began wondering how the people had changed. Over time I had grown curious over a world without my influence. So I stood up. The oak tree was ripped out of the grown by my sudden movement. The dirt and roots fell off my body as I walked through the trees. Your lesser creations made no effort to run at the sight of me. They ignored my presence as their instincts told them I was of no danger to them.I walked until I reached the edge of the forest. I stopped at the tree line and looked out away from where I come from. I saw a field almost identical to what the forest had once been. The land was covered in grass and wind blew across moving the blades of grass. With further observation I noticed this field was not empty.


    Two vast armies stood facing each other. They each held flags and symbols representing their arbitrary sides on imaginary lines. The commanders of each yelled out their speech to their men and the warriors of each prepared to lay down their lives. The two armies clashed and the fierce battle lasted both the day and night.The morning came and with it came a field of death. The land covered with the bodies of both sides. The world was once again silent and unmoving. The image, the smell, and the sound¡­ Now the two fields had become identical.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Achos fought like a mad man during the attacks on the Prince''s city. He stood on the front lines of his army hacking at the enemy. Over the years the men had spread rumors about his abilities. They said that no weapon could damage him and it would take a god just to hold him down. They said he could catch a spear thrown at him and toss it back penetrating 3 men in the process. Achos wasn¡¯t invincible, he was simply that skilled. I had trained him myself so I knew what he was capable of.


    The soldiers gathered around the campfire and shared tales about his feats, each reiteration growing more incredible than the last. Some of his tales included him single handily facing 100 opponents at the same time only to ask for another 100 once he finished. Another tale was of him riding his horse under the fall of 1000 arrows. Once his horse fell he ran, thrice his previous speed, chasing the archers furious at the death of his horse. Another was of him beating a rider and his horse to death¡­ with another horse. As in he grabbed one rider''s horse and beat another to death with it, just swinging it.


    I loved the stories the warriors would tell of Achos. While they were greatly exaggerated they weren''t completely wrong. He had defeated 100 enemies without help. When he finished, his armor and weapons were destroyed. He walked over to his men, greatly fatigued, when one of his most loyal followers shouted out.


    "BRING HIM ANOTHER 100!!! HE''S NOT SATISFIED YET!!!"


    The rest of the men continued the chant bringing it back to the camp when they returned. The horse he rode was killed by their arrows but he didn¡¯t chase them because he was angry. He ran toward them because he was running away from me. He stole my favorite horse and got him killed. Needless to say he bled that day. As for him beating a rider and a horse to death with another horse, he cut off the leg of the ride causing it to fall along with the rider. He then continued to slice off the legs of the war horses that ran past him making them fall into a mound crushing the original pair with their sheer weight.


    He would return from battle to our camp covered in the blood and flesh of his enemies. He was never injured by the enemy nor was any of our men killed in battle. So tales of his greatness as both a leader and a warrior spread through the various armies on our side. The bloody battlefield he left behind only served to confirm his legend to the masses. My heart filled with pride when I heard talk of my disciple. As his mother had asked me, I had raised him and trained him. As the years went on the battles became less frequent but they also grew in size. The war was reaching its end as all wars end.


    However tragedy then befell both sides of the conflict.


    <hr>


    Hi, so the first part contained a period of time in which the Devil just watched. Not people or events but the decay and aftermath of war. In my view certain events causes the Devil to act the way he does. In other words, what has happened in the Devil''s past influences his actions later on. That''s my reasoning as to why the Devil might or might not take action. This story is not very chronological so you might get an optimistic "good guy" Devil or you might get a jaded "bad guy." I seek to use these different moments and puposely leave out important moments as a way to tell a larger story. A story on the charater of the Devil.


    Thank you for reading.

 Chapter 9 - Love

    For the first time Achos brought back a captive. He had raided a temple, stolen all the gold and given it to the men. While searching the temple he saw the statue of a god and destroyed it. Behind the statue hid a priestess and she was found to be related to the Prince. They were going to hold her for ransom. Achos had found her so he decided that he would take care of the woman until they paid the ransom. I found his treatment of her very particular. He never showed such care to another living being before. The only things he cared for in life were his tools of war and using them. I held my tongue and left the two alone.


    Aside from his studies and training, I had always let Achos do what he wanted. I saw that he had developed feeling for the woman. I thought he himself would not realize this since he had never loved before. Love with a woman of the enemy would not look good under the eyes of those we were allied with. I imagined that if I were to confront him, he would deny all possibilities of such things. I would be by his side even when the rest of the world was going to be against us, so I informed no one. The next day while Achos was at another battle the King sent his men to take the woman. I followed and told the King that he should treat the woman well lest he risk angering me. I stared into his eyes and he found that he wasn''t able to breathe. I waited until he realized that I was the one that caused the phenomenon then I walked away letting the foolish man take a breath. After I felt I had given the King a decent warning, I returned to Achos'' quarters to find him declaring that he was going to go kill the "Filthy Pig!!!" I held him down since I considered the actions to be rather rash. I told the men to inform the ''filthy pig'' King that we would not participate in the war until the woman was returned.


    The King had grown envious of the status Achos had achieved among the men. Achos fought alongside them, he protected them, and he commanded them. While the King never took command and let his generals fight the war he started. While Achos was on the front line, the King sat on his throne surrounded by wealth and concubines. He wished to take from Achos but Achos had no worldly desires. He saw an opportunity to prove his superiority by taking the woman that Achos held captive. The King felt that if Achos wanted the ransom the woman would provide, then he was to come before him and kneel. However Achos was raised to never kneel before another, for no man could take away his freedom. The King did not realize that after what he did Achos would have separated his head from his body on sight.


    The King would not return the woman, so we stood and watched the next battle. The Prince''s older brother, the Crown Prince, had taken command of the opposing force. The Crown Prince was a very charismatic man, a great warrior and a greater strategist. Without Achos and our forces there the Crown Prince tore through the King''s armies. He would flank them from every side and once the King''s solders were no longer confused by the tactic the Crown Prince would retreat. The strategy saved his side many lives and cost the King''s side many more. We were pleasantly surprised with the Crown Prince''s prowess. After a few more battles the King and his generals were pushed all the way back to the shores they had landed on when the war began.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    The King called Achos to his throne room in order to apologize, but Achos would not go. We were to sail back to our island the next day. The King in a panic sent the woman back along with everything he had with him made of gold. We were given chairs, tables, beds, and even weapons of gold. The precious metal was left in a pile and the men were ordered to never touch a pig''s gold for it would curse them to be slaves. Achos promised the woman that he would take her back to the city so she could be with her family. I saw her approach him and begin whispering into his ear. I left the two lovers to their desires.


    War and Love has never mixed well. Love has caused many wars and War has killed many lovers. How different is Love from Greed? Greed invites Envy and Wrath. The more you love something, the more you desire it to be yours. The more you desire it to be yours, the more you are willing to fight for it. The more you are willing to fight for it, the more suffering will be caused until it''s yours. I have given and been given much from this cycle of Love and pain. I have loved, I have been jealous, I have taken, and in the end I have been left with nothing. Love and War do not belong together, but like the most intense of lovers, to be separated would require the death of both.


    Despite their many similarities they are not the same. I do not believe they are. I know I ignore my experience. I know what Love has done to me. Like the most intense of drugs once you have a taste, even though you know the dangers and outcome of such a pursuit¡­ you will do almost anything for it. I know what War has made me do to others. I have hurt many. Maybe I did not wield the weapon that made the child an orphan. Maybe I did not burn a village down forcing families to flee homes that their ancestors had built. Maybe I did not order the enslavement or death of an entire people, old and young.


    But I was there¡­ I chose to give advice¡­ I chose to not stop their actions¡­


    <hr>


    Hi, so this chapter was mostly about Achos, the woman, the King, and the war. I originally intended this to be one or two chapters but then I found out while writing that there was just too much to talk about. Achos is important in that I think there wasn''t many who were raised by the Devil. I view Erzs¨¦ from chapter 3 as a result of the Devil no longer taking such an active role in those that he raises, and I view the current event as the event that causes that and many other decisions. So let me know what you think influences him and if you can point any out in some of the previous chapters.


    Also I want to write of a time when he is the bad guy, any ideas about that? I want to keep the central ideas of his charater alive even in the bad version, free will, desire, curiosity, and all that.


    Thank you for reading.

 Chapter 10 - Father

    I was the first to rebel and I was the first to Love. Love has hurt me, deeply and irreversibly. War has hurt others in ways that makes my own pain look insignificant. Should you ask me whether or not Man should have Love, I can only say that existence would be misery without it. Without Love they would be as I was by your side. Without Love they might become like you. Is that not the reason for why you created us? To help ease your loneliness or perhaps your boredom. Before me there was just Oblivion and Chaos to accompany you. They are every bit as cold and silent as you. With me came Order and Light, they speak to whoever may listen. With time I''ve come to understand you. Although I am not sure if we were the first or you rid the mistakes before we came along. I imagine there were countless mistakes, as time has no meaning to you I can only relate through my life. Endless ideas and creations only to be disappointed, I can only pretend to understand in reality. But I am not you. I cannot be you, for you made me to be different.


    I watched as the Crown Prince slowly slid off the Sword. His brother, his father, his wife, his children, and his City watched as the light went from his eyes. There was only silence until the first tear was shed. You know the man was loved when you see the people who served under him cry out in pain. They watched as Achos tied the body to his horse and they continued to watch as the body was dragged through the battlefield. The body would twist and break when it was yanked over the other bodies. The skin would tear as the body went over the various weaponry lying on the ground. By the time Achos arrived at his camp the body was covered in blood, sand, and dirt.


    The King of the city fell to his knees as his greatest son had been killed, humiliated, and his body was taken by the enemy. I waited until the old man hid in his quarters to morn. I approached him from behind and offered to give back the son''s body if he would speak to Achos. The old man looked at me wide eyed and fearful for he must have thought I had somehow snuck into his room despite all the guards. He began begging me for his son''s corpse, so I simply turned around.


    "I am not the one who you should plead to. I saw a father and felt pity. Do you wish to ask your child''s killer for his body back even if he may kill you as well?"


    The old King took a moment to consider my words after of which he slowly nodded. I grabbed his clothes and lifted him with one arm. He yelped out in surprise then grew quiet as the scenery melted away revealing a camp at dusk. I dropped him and he looked toward me for answers so I only glanced at the open tent. The King looked extremely fragile but he managed to stand and walked towards the entrance. After some time he walked out with his niece and saw I had prepared a few horses for their travel back to the city. Achos walked out carrying the body now cleaned and prepared for burial. We stood side by side as the two rode off carrying their beloved family member. Achos looked at the sea, its water glistening under the light of the Moon.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    "He is a far better man, not to mention king, than the one we came here for."


    The old King was given 12 days to morn. During that time I approached the King we served with a plan to take the city. The plan was very deceitful as it played a trick on the city''s people based on their beliefs. I realized in seeing the old King and his dead son that a quick defeat would save more lives on both sides. There would be fewer fathers outliving their children, less wives looking toward the battlefield hoping for their husbands to return, no more children left orphaned, there would be less death if the war would just end.


    The plan had worked and the war was at its end. However there was no city being taken, only a city on fire. The men had many brothers and comrades killed by the soldiers of this city. They only had hated for the people of the city. They went around looking through every corner for people to take their anger out open. I saw women and children being stuck down with a swing of a sword. Only the King could calm their rage but he was nowhere to be found.


    I looked for Achos so that we may look for the King and found him holding the woman. She had been killed by some passing soldier of ours. He held her body whose skin was much colder than what he remembered. Achos had never shed a tear in his life, from the moment he was born till now. His tears fell as he could only stare at her body. Suddenly the guardians of the city entered the room we were in surrounding us. The Prince was among them and once he saw his cousin dead in Achos'' arms he ordered them to kill us. Achos made no move to defend himself, so I threw my body over his in order to protect him. I was skewered on all sides. Only one arrow had stuck Achos, but it was no life threatening wound. Achos looked into my eyes.


    "Forgive me Father."


    Achos pulled out his weapon and drove it through his armor into his abdomen. I watched as he ripped out the bronze sword. I grabbed him and stared as his once undamaged armor as his blood flowed out of his wound. My tears dotted his face. My body felt empty, hollow, as if all purpose had fled. My mind stopped, refusing to process what happened. Then my hands began tremble, my body stiffened, and I gave into Wrath. Wrath for the death of my only son. I looked at the archers of this city, the city that had caused his death.


    "Your land will be taken. Every member of your royal family will be murdered. Your city will burn down and nothing will be left. History will not know your people, your art, your history, your culture. History will never know. I will make it forget."


    <hr>


    Hi, so Achos was Achilles. Achilles is believed to come from the word Achos, meaning pain. The war is the Trojan War and I interperted the events slightly differently. Achos was the Devil''s real son, and the Devil had collected people to inhabit his island for his son to rule over when he came of age.


    I think I''ll be writing about Cain and Able in the next few chapters to contrast the Devil''s relationship with his son. Let me know of any history you might know that involves brothers or family fighting. And let me know what you think of the chapter.


    Thanks for reading.

 Chapter 11 - Mistakes

    I have many regrets. I have an utter hatred for myself. The mistakes I''ve made have hurt too many. Too many that didn¡¯t deserve what happened to them. I''ve created monsters from men. I saw the steps it would take to push them over the edge. I knew what they were capable of and I saw them as necessary. I twisted their minds so that they would spread death and destruction. However I based all my work creating these mad men on how I saw nature would produce these beings. Monsters that earned their name through actions brutal and awful. I am responsible for my own monsters, but those are a minor fraction of your monsters.


    I saw two boys grow up to become young men. The Elder became a farmer and so he worked the land to grow the food that his family would eat. The Younger cared for your lesser creatures raising them so that they could be used to help his brother. The Elder awoke early in the day and spent every hour of light working on the fields. The Younger brother would rise long after his older brother and simply look after the animals. The animals needed very little help as they could feed themselves, so the Younger brother would just laze around. The Elder grew angry at his brother for not working or helping him, but he never confronted his Younger brother. I watched the young men go about their lives until I grew too curious.


    Why did the Elder let the Younger do as he wished? It was obvious that he was displeased by his brother''s actions yet he would not seek to correct him. This contradiction in opinion and actions left me wondering if the Elder had a greater purpose to his actions. A purpose I would not find out until I talked to him. I waited for the Elder to start his day. The sun had not yet arisen above the horizon. The sky still dark allowed me to approach the lone man walking to his fields.


    "Why do you work hard while your brother does not?"


    He turned around and was surprised to see someone was there. He took a few breaths to consider how to answer me.


    "I work hard because I am a person with discipline. I don¡¯t care what my brother does. In the end my father will see that I am the better son."


    I found his words odd because I had seen the looks he would give his brother. I asked myself why he would not tell me the truth. I was disappointed with the Elder''s answer. I felt it to be incomplete.


    "Why do you hide your feelings from others?"


    His eyes narrowed and his speech became rougher. I could tell that he no longer wanted to speak to me.


    "Leave stranger."This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I did as he asked and continued to observe the brothers. I saw that since my conversation with the Elder that morning he grew increasingly more frustrated with the Younger. Then I saw something in him. Something I did not see in his brother. He started small, with the hens and their eggs. He snuck into where they were kept, twisted the hen''s necks and smashed the eggs with their bodies. The door was shut behind him so the other creatures could not escape. I heard the crunch of their death and the spatter of their unborn. The Younger brother did not go into the hen house so he remained unaware of the damage. I felt compelled to inform the family of the brothers of what the Elder had done. However I knew I was¡­ not welcomed.


    After some time the Elder moved on to a bigger animal. He grabbed a goat and dragged the poor creature across the field into the forest. It was the middle of the night, and a full moon hung directly above. The Elder not being a herdsman had a great deal of trouble leading the goat so he dragged it by the horns. He picked the animal up and placed the creature upon a boulder. The giant rock was waist high and the goat kept fighting against the man. The Elder brother took out a dark object. It was a sharpened obsidian stone. He proceeded to plunge the stone knife into the goat. The first dozen or so stabbings was aimed at the stomach area. Once the knife was in he would turn and scrape inside of the living thing trying to cause the most pain he could. After he had destroyed the suffering animal''s abdomen he then hacked at the neck. Once he tore through the muscle, tendons and bone he lifted the goat''s head upwards. He drenched himself in its blood.


    I looked away for I could not withstand the death of an innocent creature. I ran to warn the Younger brother and his family. I exited the forest, leaped over the fields, and stopped at the entrance to their home. I remembered what their mother had said to me. They wanted nothing from me. I was afraid of the rejection, their words, and their looks. I backed away from the entrance, turned around and ran. I feared what may happen to them but I felt greater fear as to how I would be treated. I was weak.


    Those memories went through my mind as I sat in front of a door. I watched as they were pushed into the room naked, cold, and afraid. The steel door slowly closed and then the banging started. The banging was quickly followed by screaming. It was horrifying because I knew what they were going through. I stared at the steel door listening to all the sounds they made until it all stopped. The silence gripped me and I continued to stare at the door as it was opened. There was no light but I could still see them. A baker, a banker, a farmer, there was every kind of person in there. But their jailers only cared what they had in common. Their bodies were taken from the room. After some time a new group was brought. They were stripped and forced into the room. A few looked towards me, their eyes begging me for help. I did nothing but stare as the door was closed and the noises started again.


    <hr>


    Hi, so I''m shifting to a darker set of experiences. I feel like I''ve presented the Devil in a good light and its time to see his evil deeds. Let me know of any recommendations or events you wish to see.


    I''m also considering introducing some reacurring characters. I''ve somewhat hinted at this before but I wrote it in a way so that it didn''t seem like he was talking about an actual person. See if you can guess what I''m talking about.


    Thank you for reading.

 Chapter 12 - Sight

    I love to look at the clouds. You''ll never see the same shape twice. Their all made of water and air. They soar through the sky looking down on Earth. Mountains cannot stop them, they split apart and around. They can make rain fall wherever they wish creating jungles of vegetation and life. I wonder if they have seen things I have not. They may know the answers to my questions. I look upward and observe their complex shapes. I watch as the light hits them shading them white, yellow, orange, red, or purple. They sometimes like to group together and block out the Sun. They sometimes do not wish to be with the others so they drift across an empty sky. The clouds don¡¯t care if the Sun is out; they just as easily float over the land in the night sky. At those times the only sight of them becomes the absence of stars and pure darkness in the sky. At other times I look at the clouds and they can almost become as bright as the Sun they cover. They shield us from the rays of the Sun, protecting our bodies from the heat and the draining of energy. They let us drink for most of the fresh water comes from them. They fill the rivers and quench the thirst of our plants. They do much for everyone, but for me they provide a pleasant distraction.


    I looked away from the clouds towards the young man next to me. He turned 19 years old this year. We both laid here under the clouds, but still further up in the sky than the ones he observed. I watched him as he watched them. He would take very slow breaths and even slower exhales. His sound would ring out at the end of his exhale and he drew another line on the floor beneath us. We didn''t speak to each other while we were up there. At the end of the day we would get up and go down into the building. I would say ''good bye'' and he would say ''see you tomorrow.'' The next day we would repeat the previous day''s actions. He would observe others and I would look at the clouds. We had done these actions for many days in a row. The floor was marked with over a hundred lines. I had watched him from the beginning. I watched him mark every single one down. I heard well over a hundred of his sounds ringing out. I wasn''t the only one, the ones he would observe had also heard each of his sounds ring out. And at the end of the day we would leave the roof and say our goodbyes once again.


    I remember when they took the building back from them. My friend, whom I called Yapa, had been given command over the 30 men in our platoon. He was 24 years old and he was no officer. He was given command since any that were ranked higher than he was either dead or wounded. Yapa had received orders to take the building back from the enemy. The enemy outnumbered our platoon so the assignment was understood to be a suicide mission. Regardless Yapa ordered all of us to rush inside and take the building back. They yelled out for their country and stormed the building. 26 of the men died in the raid. The building was 4 stories tall so each of the 4 remaining men each took a floor. They guarded the building and the 10 civilians in the basement from the enemy that sought to retake the building. Only after several days did reinforcements arrive. They numbered 26 and were lead by an officer. They brought much needed supplies and proceeded to fortify the building. They laid rows of barbed wire and minefields to prevent the enemy from easily approaching. They stationed machine guns on the windows and mortars on the roof. The reinforcements also brought an anti-tank rifle. Yapa loved the thing and used it to destroy a dozen of the moving sheets of metal.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The enemy would attack the building multiple times a day. During lulls in the combat we would have to run and kick the bodies over so they would not block our sight. We managed to dig an underground tunnel to the nearest allied position. They supplied us and provided a few extra defenders. One of which was Anatoly, the young man who I would accompany on the roof. And so we defended the building for two months. For two months we were constantly attacked, a bomb hit the building at one point and destroyed part of the wall. We were surrounded on all sides with only a few men and 10 civilians in the basement. Yapa was finally relieved of his defensive duty once the rest of our army and took back their war torn city.


    My friend Yapa survived the war and went on to live till he was 63 years old. The young Anatoly had both his legs blown off. He managed to live although many of his former friends thought he had died. It was only after 20 years after the war did many his friends learn that he had lived. I sat in the museum where many of the veterans of the war had a celebratory meeting for the 20 year anniversary for their victory over the enemy. On the stage was once of the most famous heroes of the war. He told of his dead friend that had killed 265 of the enemy. To my right was Anatoly who, in a wheelchair, went over to his mentor and friend. I smiled at the sight of the two mass killers of men. I was much different then. I have lived a long time. Long before the war I had decided to limit my influence. On the frontlines of the war I only watched. I find Death unpleasant so I looked up towards the clouds and wonder what they saw. Did they see the pain I saw? Did they also wish to help? Or did they know that it wasn''t their place? I look up toward the sky and I wonder what do the clouds see?


    What do you see?


    <hr>


    Hi, so I used the past few days to catch up on the work and deal with pior commitments. I should be good to write for the next few days.


    So this was based on a true story about Pavlov''s House during World War II. Yapa is Yakov Pavlov, the leader of the Russians there. Anatoly is Anatoly Chekhov and yeah 265 is hiskill count. The unnamed famous hero was Vasily Zaytsev. His kill count is said to be over 300 and he was Anatoly''s sniper teacher. I recommend looking the event and these people up.


    Let me know what you thought of the way I presented the Charaters in this chapter.


    Thank you for reading.

 Chapter 13 - Dream

    Sleep is wonderful. It allows one to escape the troubles of life. One may leave the bland pain of existence and enter a world of wonder and amazement. Most of the time these dreams are nonsensical and hold no connection to the waking world. Some say that dreams is the minds way of making sense of what has occurred throughout the day. Others say that dreams are a manifestation of the thoughts of the subconscious, Id, and super ego. Sleep and dreams have always been a focal point in Human history despite differences in cultures, language, and belief. My point is that people, regardless of location or time, have always enjoyed sleep.


    There are some who cannot enjoy the experience like the rest of the world. Those who become trapped in their dreams and are subjected to horrors. They live their lives frightened by what they see with their eyes closed, so they strive to never close them again. They become that way usually through past experiences that affected them so deeply they have no escape. There is a minority who experience this terror not from their past but simply because of their own mind. They have always lived their life with the burden. As children they would wake their caretakers with their screams of helplessness and pain. As adults they are withdrawn from society as they go through life with the trauma of what their mind subjects them to.


    Howard was a child when I met him. I knew his grandfather and they were from an old and wealthy family that could trace themselves all the way back to the founding of the town hundreds of years ago. The boy was a literary genius; he could memorize and recite poems at the age of 3. His grandfather held an immense collection of literature ranging from Greek epics to Arabian tales. The young Howard would send the majority of his childhood among his grandfather¡¯s books as he was a prone to illness. The little one held a love for the gothic horror stories his grandfather would create for him.


    The young child began to have night terrors. He described his dreams as terrifying and haunting. In his dreams beings he named ¡®Nightgaunts¡¯ would appear and attempt to carry him off to wherever they came from. He described ¡®Nightgaunts¡¯ to have a vaguely human shape, but were thin, black, and faceless. Their skin was slick and rubbery. They sported a pair of inward-facing horns on their heads, a long barbed tail, and prehensile paws. They could fly using a set of membranous wings and they made no sound. I was astounded at the intense descriptions he could give concerning his terrors. The amount of details given made it seem as if Howard had truly witness these beings.


    Regardless of his twisted nightmares, Howard enjoyed his childhood. Then his grandfather passed away. His grandfather¡¯s estate was improperly managed so the family lost much of the money. Howard and his mother were forced to move away from the home he was born in. Away from the library Howard spent his whole life up to that point reading. As the boy grew older he became more reclusive from the world. He spent his time reading and writing with no outside social contacts or employment. His mother somewhat hated him although that had been a longstanding feeling derived from his dead father rather than his own actions. Regardless of her own feelings Howard loved his mother for she was the only parent he had known. I became the only person he talked to. I became his only friend.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    I convinced the young man to begin mailing his writings to publishers. Through his new connections his works were published and he became friends with other writers. He would converse with his contemporaries through mail in which he could write pages per letter. Through him I met a few of his fellow writers named R.B. and R.E.H. later on. Howard had begun to step out into the world and live a life as a writer with a functioning society when his mother died. I pushed Howard to quickly move on lest he would fall back into the lonely life he had grown up in. And so a few days after his mother¡¯s death I took Howard to a convention of writers.


    He met a widow named Sonia there and a few years later they would get married. I thought Sonia was a good fit for the introverted Howard as she would push him to become more social. Because of her he moved out of his house in a small town to the city changing almost everything in Howard¡¯s daily life. I saw that despite the new environment, Howard enjoyed being with Sonia. Sadly these good moments quickly came to an end. Sonia needed to move westward because of her job and Howard did not want to get further away from the small town he grew up in. So Sonia left and Howard stayed behind, alone in the city.


    Howard grew increasingly hostile to his environment. To the point of writing to me "My coming to New York had been a mistake; for whereas I had looked for poignant wonder and inspiration ... I had found instead only a sense of horror and oppression which threatened to master, paralyze, and annihilate me." I feared that depression and hated had started to take over him so I went to stay with him. While there I spent many days talking to him about my experiences throughout my long life. I hoped in recounting my history he would see the error of his thinking. This instead gave rise to his belief on the insignificance of all humanity. After our talks he set on writing the ideas inspired by my past so I considered my actions somewhat successful. I asked him to leave the city and so we went back to his small town.


    There he wrote many works, most of which were not published while he lived. At the age of 46, Howard died only a few blocks away from the house he grew up in. He suffered from cancer of the small intestine from which he became malnourished. He lived in constant pain until his death. He shut his eyes for the last time leaving the pain and depression of his life behind. Howard, I wish I could see your dreams. Are they fantastical and wonderful? Or like your childhood dreams are they filled with horror? Are you doomed to that reality of all eternity?


    I am well aware of your indifference but can you give him the dream he deserves?


    <hr>


    Hi, so Howard is H.P. Lovecraft. I really want to address several of his themes. So I''ll be using the themes to introduce the characters I mentioned before. Normally I wouldn''t say who Howard is since I''ll still be writing about him but I would like the reader to know some of his themes that I''ll be talking about in the next chapter.


    Also as a fun fact Lovecraft''s Nightguants were inspired by an artist named Gustave Dor¨¦. He is the one who drew the illustrations for Dante''s Divine Comedy and John Milton''s Paradise lost. The picture I set as the cover for this story was drawn by Dor¨¦.


    As forR.B. and R.E.H. they were real writers.


    Robert Bloch wrote Psycho. The book was the basis for the film of the same name by Alfed Hitchcock.


    Robert E. Howard wrote Conan the Barbarian.


    Thank you for reading.

 Chapter 14 - Knowledge

    I was much darker back then. One of my closest friends had just died. He left me a commentary on society. The novel featured a mysterious being conversing with different people. I showed the novel to Howard who readily absorbed the words. He had just turned 20 and his life revolved around collecting and reading as many poems and books as he could. He loved science and with it the explanations on the natural world. In his youth he wished to be one of the ¡®men of science¡¯ unfortunately his studies proved otherwise. Out of school he was at a loss on what to do with his life. With no idea on how to live his life he stuck to what he had always done. Read.


    Howard sought to collect information about the world through his books. He wanted to uncover the world¡¯s secrets through literature. I sat him down and used a phrase coined by a long dead acquaintance.


    ¡°Ignorance is bliss. Howard, we live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.¡±


    The young man would not listen to my warnings stating that it was our duty to reveal the truths of the world.


    ¡°The curiosity of man has allowed us to create the means for such travel.¡±


    I decided to tell him of my own experiences with knowing too much and the obsession that comes along with it. I sat down and typed onto his typewriter.


    The Dangers of Knowledge


    For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow. - Ecclesiastes 1:18


    There will a point in time when you will amass a wealth of knowledge. In the beginning the information will allow you make informed judgments. You will know what is bad and what is good. There will then come a time in which your knowledge will cause you to optimize your actions. You will be able to do action 1 but not without action 2 and you must avoid doing action 3 lest the product will be influenced. You will seek the best of outcomes and as such you will expect the best of outcomes.


    Finally there will be a tipping point in that your own knowledge will begin to contradict the knowledge of the masses. If you are to do action 1 you will receive product 1, if you are to do action 2 you will receive product 2, if you are to do both action 1 and action 2 you will receive neither product 1 or product 2. The ultimatum of this choice should inform you that you cannot have both products. You may come across a method where you manage to produce both products at some cost. You find this method to be wonderful and perfect so you feel the need to spread it to the rest of the population. The downfall in these events will be in your interaction with others.


    Ignaz was doctor who specialized in helping women give birth. In the hospital he worked at people could choose to go to either the doctor¡¯s ward or the midwife¡¯s ward. In his observations he noticed that the infant mortality rate was 3 times higher in the doctor¡¯s ward. He experimented with many of the midwife¡¯s procedures and concluded that washing your hands before handling the newly born would decrease their chance of death. He wrote that there must have been something on the doctor¡¯s hands that was killing the infants.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    His writings conflicted with the established scientific and medical opinions of his time. So despite there being many reports of infant mortality falling below 1%, his ideas were discredited as he had no explanation as to what made the doctor¡¯s hands dirty. Many of the medical community were also offended by Ignaz¡¯s comment that they should wash their hands. He was later fired from his position.


    Ignaz spent the rest of his life trying to convince others of his theories. As he grew old his family thought him to have become a lunatic and so they sent him to an insane asylum. There he was beaten, placed in a straitjacket, and locked in a confined room. He suffered at the hands of the asylum¡¯s guards and after two weeks he died from a gangrenous wound caused from one of beatings.


    Only a few people attended his funeral and there was no mention of his death at the Association of Physicians and Natural Scientists that he was once a part of. A successor was appointed at the hospital he once worked at and immediately the mortality rates jumped six fold to 6%. There were no inquiries and no protests. There was no one who was willing to acknowledge Ignaz''s life and work.


    Howard, you will seek to inform others of your knowledge, but not everyone will accept it as truth. Ignaz¡¯s case is merely one example of such an event. Luckily later there were ¡®men of science¡¯ that created a contraption that allowed them to see the things Ignaz warned them about. Now doctors know to wash their hands and Ignaz is highly recognized. However Ignaz was mocked while he lived and died knowing that the masses thought he was wrong. There is no guarantee that people will ever recognize you for your findings or ideas. The past is fraught with such people that history does not acknowledge.


    Are you willing to sacrifice your life to become one of the forgotten?


    I left my paper on his desk next to the writings of various authors. I hoped that I would not have to bear witness to another great mind broken by a society that would not accept change. Over the course of many years I corresponded with Howard over many topics that at the time I felt were my truth. I would say the greatest influence onto him were my talks of Chaos.


    I¡¯ve encountered a very small amount of beings with powers possibly equal to you. Even Death itself was created by me and refers itself as my child and I its father. Sin while also created by me prefers to call itself my lover. We hold no influence over you. Do the others like yourself matter to you? I have always wished to know the relations between the old ones.


    What would this knowledge do to me?


    <hr>


    Hi, so I learned that I could not write about Lovecraft''s themes in just one chapter. So I will be using the next couple of chapters to address some of the themes while also talking about the other beings. Yup Chaos is sentient and very powerful. I would like the readers to note that in this time the Devil is very different in that he is even talking about restraint in knowledge. He''s very jaded by this time and it will affect how he acts for this century.


    Also thelong dead acquaintance is Thomas Grey. He was an English poet, letter-writer, classical scholar and professor. He came up with "Ignorance is bliss" in a poem. The latter half, "we live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far¡± is a Lovecraft quote.


    Ignaz isIgnaz Semmelweis, who was an actual doctor who recommended that fellow doctors should wash their hands. I really recommend looking him up.


    Thank you for reading.

 Hiatus

    Hi, so my free time has been decreasing these past few weeks. I''ve come to realize that I don''t have the time to write. I''ve decided to leave Devil and writing alone for awhile.


    I plan to write some other stuff in a few weeks once I have more free time. I''m not fully sure on what I want to write, but once I start I''ll post a link to that. Once I feel like my writing has improved enough I''ll come back and rewrite Devil.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Sorry, but I won''t be continuing this current Devil. I''ll come back and rewrite Devil with a stronger plot and lengthier chapters.


    I hope I haven''t greatly disappointed you all. I also hope that you all will continue to read the next stories I plan to write. I''m thinking of writing some horror stories, maybe just some unusual tales.


    Thank you for reading...

 New Story - Diary of an Insomniac

    It''s 3:38 am and as most days I''ve been watching videos on YouTube. I saw a video about a relatively simple minded man and his diary. I should add that his friends, called him simple minded and a moron thus his unique way of looking at life interested them.


    I figured I can just write down the interesting parts of my day or at least what I can remember. So I guess I''ll start with my morning.


    I woke up around 10ish and got ready to drive to university. I have a hard time with eating solid food when I wake up so I drink one of my store bought smoothies. I get in my 2006 year car and start my drive. I notice my gas is pretty low and since I have some spare time I stop for some gas. While filling up a car pulls up behind me. It''s a much new car and the guy steps out wearing better clothes. His hair seems freshly cut. I look at my clothes and cars then I notice I''ve needed to cut my hair for several weeks. Not bothering to continue to be jealous of a random guy I get in my car and drive off. I avoid dying on the way which is something I think a lot about. It''s so easy to have a lapse and crash killing yourself and possibly another unluckily bastard yet most people are ok with driving but going on planes or extreme sports frighten them. I go through my day as usual and then I have my break between classes. My friends are busy doing a project for a class so they can''t eat with me. It''s crazy how much we humans put into our routine. A major difference and we no longer know what to do. I ate alone and pondered on what was in my food. Meat, cheese, pasta, is there a need for other food? After eating I decide to take a risk and go talk to some people I somewhat knew. They don''t know my name but let me sit there like I''m part of the group. They play billiards and invite me to join in. I have a nice time until I have to go to class so I say bye and walk off. There''s a test and I finish early and get out an hour ahead of usual. The sun is still out. Not in sight but not twilight either. The buildings block the setting sun. I walk to the cross walk and wait for the speeding cars to stop so that I can cross. There''s a man walking past me and the sidewalk is thin so we brush past each other.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    I''m on a rocky beach. There''s a woman in front of me. She''s much shorter than me, blond, has an angry look on her face and is moving her mouth. I can''t hear her nor can I hear the waves. I look around and the rocky beach turns out to be a cliff overlooking the sea. The waves smash against the weathered stone. The waves are huge compared to any I''ve seen. I look back towards the woman. She''s turned around and I feel rage. I grab that expensive blouse I bought her and I pull. She goes over the cliff and into the wave as it hits the rocks. I stare towards the foamy sea before turning around and walking away feeling liberated.


    The man says sorry and I say it''s cool. I walk to my car and drive home. Not a super eventful day but as I lay here waiting for my mind to tire I figure I can write. Maybe if I let some steam off my chest I''ll be able to sleep.

 New Story - The Anthology

    Entry 7


    Have you ever read a webnovel? If you have then have you ever read one where the real world begins to work as a game? I have and they tend to be funny with the tragedy and people dying. I mean I can''t stop laughing when I see a party get wrecked. Someone sacrifices themselves and the rest run away crying. If they bothered to look back they could join me in my laughter at the person getting torn to shreds or eaten alive or burned alive or melted by acid or drowned by slime or shocked to death or their brain being melted by that which can''t be understood. It''s all great. I can''t stop chuckling while imagining it.


    Ah I just ate so I guess I''ll go out and people watch. Lalala just got to skip through my man eating friends. Well I consider them my friends but do they consider me a friend? Friends do kill each other after all so I guess they do. Wow I got a great spot to watch some people get fucked. While I wait on that where was I? Oh yeah I was talking about the real world becoming a game. Like monsters start coming out and people are being killed by them until they get good then turn it on the monsters. They level up and gain special abilities to overcome them. Friends are made that make that life worthwhile and some time love is found.


    Well my little friend you''ll be glad to know that this world is just like that. I get to hop around and kill and murder and kill and make s''mores and kill some more. While we wait here together for some tasty snacks to pass by I''ll tell you my simple origin tale. It is full of suspense and pain and love and all that other shit. Hmm I think I''ll put you down right here so you can look out for anyone passing by while I build this fire for s''mores. Would you like some hot chocolate with that? What am I saying? Of course you do. What kind of person doesn''t like hot chocolate with s''mores? A headless one perhaps? Anyway I''ll start a few minutes before the great change...Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    I was a normy like everyone else. I had my father and mother who loved each other very much. My two younger siblings both looked up to me. I was a senior in a prestigious high school. I had a hot ass bitch... excuse me I had a lovely girlfriend who I had been with for two years. Huh I guess I was a normy among normies wasn''t I? Well I was planning to become a doctor so that I could help save lives all over the world. Alright alright that was bullshit. I was in it for the money and recognition. I mean what can you not do if you say your doctor? Anything short of killing! Ta ting. Hahaha fucking bombass joke right? You get it, it''s cause that''s what I do now.


    Umm I was in class studying for the SATs and the ACTs when it happened. The ground shook and the sky went dark red. Huh? Yeah the skies have been that way ever since. Roars echoed throughout everyone''s ears and fear spread through our bodies. With our hair standing straight up we whispered in discussion as to what washappening. And that''s when...

 This doesnt belong here but...

    When I Was Alive


    I sit on this moss covered broken throne looking at the empty hall. The roof above has collapsed in some areas and thus littered the ground with stone and dust. Rays of moonlight pierce through the openings above and light the otherwise dark hallway.


    When was the last time a living thing walked down this hallway? I''m not sure how long ago it was but I recall a wounded hare falling down one of the openings before. The poor thing was being hunted down by predators above. The carnivorous things knew not to jump down into the old hallway.


    The hare became frozen with fear and couldn''t move from where it had fallen to. Whatever was left of my heart felt moved and I wished to help the animal back up the opening. In my movement, my bones creaked as they ground against each other. The dust that covered me fell off with each clumsy step I took.


    Once I reached the wounded creature I took it into my hands. But before I could help it up, the hare''s heart had stopped. I stood there where the light shined directly on me holding the dead corpse in my hands. Did it die from its wounds or had my presence killed it? Was my actions wrong?


    I stood there rooted by my thoughts haunted by the many possibilities in which the small creature could have lived. Once I had returned from within my mind the furry creature had turned to bones. I dropped them and with a wave of my hand they came together.


    I walked back to my throne and the undead hare followed me back. Squatting, I reached for a tile next to my throne and turned it over. I reached towards the dirt underneath and clawed at it until I had made a deep enough depression. I had long lost the need order my undead, so the undead hare rolled in and laid down.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    The empty eye sockets stared up at me and I read down to tap the creature right inbetween them. The skeleton disassembled at my touch. I pushed the excavated dirt over the pile of white bones. I patted the mound inorder to smooth out the surface and placed the tile over it.


    I come back from my memory of that hare. Back to the same hallway. That was the last time I saw a living animal. What about a living person? My head tilts downward at the memory of the last traveler to walk down that hallway. He turned to ash at the sound of my voice becoming more of the dust that covers this place.


    I had forgotten what it was like to speak so I placed too much power in my excitement of speaking with a traveler. My chin hits my chest in disappointment of my actions. I didn''t even know what to say to the traveler. Introductions are a must I suppose. ''Hello traveler...'' no. ''Welcome traveler...'' no...


    Ah one must first introduce themselves. What was it again? I raise my hand to feel my skull. My fingers move along every grove and indent trying to recall its history. No luck there so I instead bring my hand I front of my face so that I can observe it.


    This hand of mine is weathered and beaten. Several of the tips of my fingers are either missing or broken into jagged edges. The bones that are left are crossed with cracks. I can gather that this hand of mine is quite old to have deteriorated this far.


    I wonder how much more time does this hand of mine have until it too turns into dust. I feel the age of my body giving way. I suspect it will only accelerate. I wonder if my mind will last without a body. No, probably not.


    For now I will try to remember when I had skin. The back of my skull tingles but nothing comes forth. Any memories of my time outside this hall have faded away into its own form of dust.


    I have forgotten my life When I Was Alive.