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✴
Hazy orange hues the sky beneath a pale blue.
The end of the world has always been imminent. I recalled the days of old; monolithian altars and statues that once seemed as though they could toil endlessly towards the sky held ancient scriptures speaking of the world's final act engraved into crumbling stone- The world has done it wear. For once, in my life, the concept of mortality was understandable- My life, stretching past my fingers, ebony and clawed, no longer floated about like a wisp caught by the wind; weighted by the world, it slipped through my fingers like tar, sticking to each phalange in a pathetic display so pitiful I found in mesmerising. My mortality is imminent. Even so, I thrive.
The thought is amusing. In a twisted way, the fear in an end to a beginning makes my lips tug at its corners.
✴
When I was much younger, humanity looked much different than it does now. That is, if there are humans to observe at all anymore. They worshipped at my feet, fervent prayers swirling in the temple I had been chained to. No doubt, humanity thrived in hypocrisy- I remembered how I wept, wrists struggling against the rusted metal that grew sticky and dirt-ridden from my blood. Still, mortals knelt beneath my tattered form, and cupped my face to savour the warm sorrow that trailed downwards. I found them disgusting- How they prayed for my blessing, yet celebrated in my blood and tears. Desperate fools, they were, taking and taking and taking despite having utterly nothing .
I still recall vividly what it was like to lean on an angels shoulder for the first time.
“Stay awake, stay awake–”
I hadn’t the slightest clue as to what the words meant.
The syllables were foreign to my ears- But I knew, by their gentle tone alone, that they meant well. I would say I felt relief in the moment, but the blood that ran past my claws distracted me far too much to process whatever it could be that I felt. They let me stagger and lean on them, steps uncoordinated and wavering; My tail dragged behind, and I could vividly remember the soft gust of air that came from beneath us both, his wings carefully splayed and slowly helping me trudge along. They must’ve noticed that under the weight of all of my people, my bones cracked and crumbled. What a kindred soul.
Even still,
My hands trembled with the urge for mindless violence. It thrummed through my veins, singing in a shrill voice for me to fight .
I did fight.
And nobody won.
✴
“NO!”
I heard the humans who once knelt beneath me with much reverence scream, wailing in fear. My wrists snapped harshly against the chains, making the metal burst off by the hinges and screws at renewed vigor. Fight. The world around me spun, and I was stuck, guzzling the overwhelming sensation of adrenaline-addled rage; Everything had weighed on me, and I had been carrying anchors in the form of scars- I tripped over my feet this time, and I crashed through the glass, and the blood that came from breaking through inhibition was–
It was blissful .
I heard a callous laugh electrify the air in a manner no short than sonorous. I couldn’t recognize it, but something in me- Deep down– knew exactly who they were , enough that fear jutted into the needles in my spine. The rest of that fateful day was blurry. All I can recall are the screams, the widened eyes, scarlet, the feel of my muscles straining, the efforts of my people to subdue me– How dare they try to hold me back by my horns? Adorn it with gold and jewellery as if I were a god, yet pull me like some- Whatever the hell it was called, all I know was that it was an offering made to me - Cattle, they called it? The thought enrages me. I am no animal. Do not treat me as such.
When there was nothing but silence, the static of overexertion singing in my pointed ears, I stared off into nothing. Wavering on my feet like a brittle tree in a storm.
And as a false god, I was tasked to save my people. I failed my duty to do so.
And then, there was nobody to save me.
Nobody but opal feathers and golden light.
✴
“Hey, hey- ▉▉▉▉▉▉. Are you alright? You’re staring off again.”
I could never recall the name I was given.
“‘m fine,”
I slurred in exhaustion, leaning into the angel's touch gingerly. Oftentimes, they drowned me in such affectionate touch I almost mistook it for worship- But I was no god, and they were no acolyte. Their hands gently rubbed against my exposed skin with soap in hopes to abrade the feeling of eternal filth beneath my skin, shoulder angled closer towards me so I could rest my head against the dip of their neck. Their scent is clear, intoxicating yet ever so important. Their hands wash over the stumps of mutilated limbs on my shoulder blades, and a drifting thought of yearning to soar through the skies again washed off steadily like the foam on my body.
“You’ve been more exhausted lately.”
“Can’t help it.”
I crack a snide grin, as though the pain that sears through each muscle and fibre of flesh doesn't bring my mind to a halt, grinding like sharpened metal against tender tissue- The angel helps me through it. Their touch soothes me greatly; we both figured that it was a result of those mortals. In the moonlight, the essence of old cult-rite engravings glow softly on my skin: over my forehead, then my larynx tracing into the dip and support of my collarbones, down to my hands, to the dips in my hips, my thighs, down to my ankles, and clearest on the canvas of agony that is my back. I never ask to see it, yet I catch glimpses of it through stray reflections.
“I’m worried about you, ▉▉▉▉▉▉. That can’t be normal.”
Their voice is airy, comforting. It urges me to relax. Blank. I’m pretty sure they’re doing that thing again with their voice, that thing that makes my muscles go limp. It’s nice to be away from a burdened form. A sigh leaves my lips as I relax, my jaw unclenching.
“...Mn. Nothing about me is normal to begin with, angel.”
Their hand washes off remaining soap, before taking my face into their palm. They angle my face to meet the intricate details of their eyes.
“I know. But you understand, don’t you? It’s been years. Not even years- Decades. Centuries. Please, my hearth- the humans must know what to do. Abolish the magic that chains you. Look, you can barely walk on your own these days. You used to be able to run. Jump. Remember when we used to chase each other? Remember the feel of wind through your hair? This can’t be living.”
“I… am not going to see them again. That’s final, angel. You’ve had a wonderful time in this world, worshipped yet feared enough to not be used- I did not have that. I refuse to risk it again, and I will not be the subject of their self-appointed crimes. I did what I did to.. protect myself. I am- I’m– A,.. person, before a god, and you must– you must… sympathise, no- no, you must understand–! Please, don’t make me-”
“..Shh. Shh, my blaze- Okay. Okay, we won’t talk to them. Okay? I’m sorry for proposing it. We don’t have to see them again. Come here. My poor boy.”
They press their lips against my horns, then my forehead. They don’t seem to care how I soak the silk of their clothes with my bare form in the slightest, holding my trembling body close like the rest of the world doesn’t exist at all. And what is that? A blessing, or a curse? Would I rather be left to rot, able to rest, or would I rather be helped through every day, forced to drag even the weight of my own body like a sick punishment?
Regardless, I can see the dirt change and pile up behind me.
“I don’t…”
“It’s okay. Promise. I won’t mention it again, ▉▉▉▉▉▉.”
“Angel…”
“Hm?”
“...I’ve been noticing things more.”
I press a gentle kiss to his neck, let each peck linger in tender dedication as I push myself to rest my hand over his chest for slight support. It makes my arms ache with dull pain, but I simply stiffen my breathing and exhale.
“Tell your god to open up his gates. This world isn’t going to last long.”
I mutter, and it seems to stun him greatly- The soft fingers that have been carding through my drenched locks of ivory pause, before continuing at a slower pace.
“Why do you say that?”
“The scriptures.”
Another kiss to his neck. Even as it strains me, I know that time is a short-lived thing, even in the wake of our immortality. I yearn for more time, greedier than any human could be. Even as I have been granted a life devoid of the physical limitations, save for the slow but steady erosion of my abilities, I still yearn for more time. Time . It’s almost time.
“What makes you believe them, hm?”
“I stared into the universe through them, once,”
I mumble.
“It stared back.”
They reach forward into the bath and remove the drain stopper of the bathtub, running warm water over me to further cleanse me. How lucky of me, to get my body washed by an angel. At times, his acts of servitude towards me have me expecting him knelt beneath me, washing my feet with- What was it again? Perfume, if I recall right, and to kiss at my ankles and worship me like a god. Why must he treat me in such a way? Does he not realise how much it means to me? Does he not realise how blissful everything is to me? Dreamy? Mind-numbing ?
“The universe- When I recall it, I feel as though I’m being watched. But I know what I saw, angel. The humans- They prepared a room, just for me. Symbols I couldn’t recognize were positioned and drawn onto the obsidian flooring with salt- If the room was an equal square, then the best way to describe the madness of their- Rituals, or whatever the hell it was, was that the circle keeping me in reached far enough to leave only the corners of the room untouched with salt. There, they put red candles with different engravings and matching colours- There were odd boxes and gaps in the sigils on the floor. Offerings, I believe, and herbs that lined and positioned itself about. It looked like.. Like,.. Like geometry! Geometry , angel! Triangles and spirals, fractals and— And there were things hung up on the ceiling too! Glass jars filled with herbs and fluids, smelling of perfume and oils, and odd talismans- Numbers on thin paper, strings, and an animal- So much. There was so much there, and they instructed me to lay down in the centre of it all, my limbs splayed out. They decorated me , too. In gold. I watched as every human gathered around this… Melting pot, throwing in all their jewellery and gold and melting it,.. And…”
I barely noticed how he guided me up, drying my body off with a soft towel and gently dressing me. I didn’t notice how my tail wrapped around his leg for support either.
“..And they gave me new, silky clothes. I sparkled, angel. My horns, my ears, my body,.. Everything. And then it was like the weight of the world crushed me whole in that room after I shut my eyes, and then- Then , I was in an expanse of pure nothing but blinding light. It didn’t hurt my eyes. Not in the slightest. But I knew that there was something there,.. No, no- I SAW it. I know that it was everything, and nothing, and it was the universe, and it was me, as much as it is you, and everybody, and nobody,”
I sounded insane. Still, he listened. Helped me into bed. Peppered kisses into my skin as I spoke to soothe the dull ache in my joints.
“But if I tried to explain it- It wouldn’t do it justice. But it stared at me. And then it spoke, and I’m not sure I understood it, but it stays in my chest. Its words. And I heard it speak again, angel. Are you listening?”
I’d become- Admittedly,.. Frantic. It was true, though. All of it.
“I’m listening, my hearth. What did it say?”
“ Horologium currit: demiurge prope est, ”
“And what does that mean, baby?”
“...The clock is running. God is near.”
Silence spreads between us both.
There is nothing in the world that makes it so that his expression staring back at me isn’t unnerving . Why is it that at that moment, his eyes, usually shimmering in a manner that leaves his eye colour ambiguous- hold so much tension, enough that I could mistake it for guilt ? And what does that make me? A pawn, a peon, a plaything ? And what if I am? Who’s to say I am in any condition to do anything about it? Me, who needs his dearest angel to merely walk- Me, who wails in burning agony at the feel of my own body's weight– I know that even if his expression was a silent admission of his own transgressions hidden behind scintillating light and soft feathers, I would be but complacent to it, to him, to his hands- I could be horrified and quivering in fear at the other, yet he would hold me. Cup me in his palms, tut me for cringing away, and push my head into the dip of his neck. Then, the scent of roses would waft in every orifice of my senses, and I’d be blissful. My pain would be wiped so quickly I’d simply forget I had it at all. Then I’d wake up by dusk, sit up hastily, and come crashing back down without his touch.
He might as well take the place of my bones.
“Angel?”
My voice wavers, still stuck in that shocked look on his face.
“...I’m here, my hearth.”
He gently takes my head into his hands, combs through my hair and caresses my horns. I rest my hands on his shoulders and my lips purse to speak- And yet the words die off on my tongue, like a deity snapping their fingers and sealing my voice off. Instead, my head luls into his hands, slack and relaxed as ever. My thoughts grow foggy, static reaching into the very edges of my skull until there is nothing- And there will be nothing- Until I realise so. For now, though, I exhale, my exhausted eyes grow hooded, and my breathing slows.
“Shh. We don’t need to think about that right now. There’s nothi▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
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✴
Everything is swimming, singing, soaring
There’s nothing but euphoria swimming through my nerves
My own thoughts are difficult to come by. If I do have one, it’s in the voice of my beloved angel, shining, gorgeous, divine, wonderful- He guides me. Every day is like honey, sludging into one another- I can no longer tell when one day starts and another stops. I find it enchanting, really- It’s freeing. Not a single day passes where euphoria doesn’t cloud my every sensibility, swirling in every cell and axon that makes up my body in spindling towers and ropes stretched and tied together to aid me in every movement I make. Meticulous, how the body functions. When I stretch my hand outwards to let each phalange bend at its joint, that's flesh, and blood, and bone, manoeuvred by nerves that if you truly think about, are puppet strings ! Isn’t that fascinating? Isn’t that gorgeous? Isn’t this life so divine ?
“My hearth,”
My angel calls for me, and he uses his wings to pull me closer. He interlocks his fingers in between the empty spaces of my hand, and he squeezes it so tenderly I think I might wail. But I don’t- Instead, my face tugs upwards with a loopy grin, my head leaning into his presence like a dog to its owner. His voice- Oh, his voice, it sings to me. Whyever did I question trusting him before? Clearly, if all things are good, and all things are light, then there is nothing- Nothing in the world that could ever destroy this. Nothing, there is nothing.
“Yes, angel?”
I respond, and my eyes trail over the tray of objects he sets down onto the bed beside me. They look vaguely familiar, empty jars and candles and odd smelling botanicals all plattered in gold; oh, gold! There is much of it that I own, now. My sweet angel- Adorns me with them, gifts them to me as though I am a king, or a noble, or a god ! Beneath the fabrics that drape over my bare form are golden chains and accessories he dresses me with after assisting me in the bath. I no longer need his assistance- Not a single dull ache is to be found, but still, he lets the aroma of oils and smoke fill our bathroom. With nimble hands, he lets the pomade trail from the crown of my head, over my horns, until it's slithering into the dips of my collarbones, into the hills of my shoulder blades, following the long road that is, my spine, all until the soles of my feet catch it at its finality. He whispers- No, sings to me, and after everything is finished, he wipes my flesh with silk that shimmers in the light with patterns familiar yet foreign to me. His fingernails guide each clasp into its hook as gold rests on my body. Over my neck, to my chest, to my waist, my hips, my knees, my calves– I recognize it as worship.
“We’re going to do something fun, alright?”
He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, and suddenly I feel the marble tiling beneath me in place of the soft rolls of fabric our bed contains. I don’t mind it all too much; everything is okay if he’s around.
“Okay.”
Hold on there’s something not quite right where am I what’s this why does he have those things I’m scared I want to leave why did I trust hi ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
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“Lay down for me,”
Gently pushing me down onto the tiling, I can feel the dust and bits of debris tickling the hairs on the back of my neck. I don’t mind all that much- The gentle jingle of gold distracts me for a moment, but I’m quick to pay attention to how he cups my face ever so gingerly.
“I want you to greet Them.”
Right. Greet Them. I nodded, and like clockwork, I closed my eyes at the scent of incense, the thick air wafting around me in spirals as the noise of movement and preparation slowly set out of my senses.
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My eyes flicker open.
A white expanse.
I remember this place.
‘.. Wha ..?’
Despite my mouth moving to form the words, there isn’t a single decibel of my voice that floats through the air. But I can feel it- Feel thousands of eyes burning through my skin. The water that pools up to my chest is suffocating, and I fear that slipping through and drowning would be the end of me– The markings on my body toil and move, tingling as they dissipate into the water. My eyes widen at the sight, and I turn and-
Greet Them.
Bones and cartilage, viscera and bile- All of it is incomprehensible, yet it is everything it is made of and so much more – My eyes cannot peel away. Instead, all of its 18,000 pairs of eyes peer into my soul, and it is barely humanoid at all- It has thousands of legs spindling with different fabrics and concepts, eldritch and lovecraftian in nature as I step back in fear. My skin buzzes and tingles.
‘Hello ?’
My obligation prompts the words out of me even as it trudges towards me- All its legs, all its arms, the horns, antlers, trunks- It makes no sound in spite of it, and I am dragged under the water even when I struggle and thrash and sob without a sound and the water grasps every limb of mine and it is thick and suffocating and I can’t breathe I need to get out I am no sacrifice I need to I must be a
✴
God .
At the apex of life, nothing binds me now.
My Godhood is temporary. Even so, I know and am everything, and nothing. I am me, as much as I am my angel, and a smile tugs at my worldly form as I take in hand my most trusted angel- I can remember the many years that he’s nurtured me. Kept me docile and fed my strength while binding it close. A skillful actor, he was, and it makes a grin spread on my face.
I begin to run.
Out of the church, into the field- All of life is singing for my arrival. The bugs are humming melodies, trembling in joy so powerful their body falters and spasms uncontrollably- The coyotes in the forest, the deer, everything- They are all singing a euphony in the orchestra of life; I am the sole conductor . Fire blazes in the chaos that unfolds around me. Even from here, I can hear every being of this world sing! The humans cry and wail, a good presence of dissonance to trickle upon our harmonies! The whales serve as our bass, the birds and hyenas as our sopranos, and there is music and there–
My kind are soaring .
I laugh in rhapsodies- They roar above the skies, claiming dominion over all of life as I do. Their wings disturb the air and cause the grass to billow and the trees to blow wherever they see suit. My angel laughs with me, the glow of their halo dulled by the fire and entropy that whirls and dances in every particle of life. At the end of the world, there is nothing but joy! Nothing but ecstasy in the overindulgence and debauchery of life! I can feel the wind through my hair, the soft jingle of the gold beneath my clothes, the feel of celebration— Birds come crashing from the sky, wings bent, broken, and deformed, but it is all so beautiful! All of life sings- Sings until every fibre of flesh that hold their vocal cords together snap , and there is nothing, and everything, and I am all of life, and none of it, and for once, there is nothing but wholeness deep in my chest. There is no conflict, for every flaw is filled into by each other- In the abundance of imperfection, would that not make it perfect?
All of life embraces each other and bleeds in; the sound of structures crumbling as it returns to the earth is wonderful, and
everything is swimming, singing, soaring.
I open my mouth to speak for the last time.
“GAUDE, DEUS HIC EST.”