"Darkness."
"Surrounded by darkness. Something that I would ordinary relish in, but within this particular darkness, there was no escape. I was surrounded by the eternal void, banished here for being whom I am. For indulging my whims against the parasites who claimed the world for their own."
"Until She called to me, and did what no other could -- or dared."
"It was a strange thing, for one so old to be in the debt of another. You would think that an entity such as I would be above such a reproach, but even within darkness there was a whimsical sanctity of honor to be held. Yet this one... this one held sway that impressed even one such as myself. A power that cut through the very darkness that held me bound, and returned me to the world that I did so enjoy tormenting. It was little known to the Men who sealed me away, but the older the creation, the more likely they were to uphold the 'old ways' as I like to call them."
"Men, on the other hand, their word can not be trusted. They lie. They butcher and annihilate their own kind, all for the sake of progress. They would lie to the ones that bear them into this pathetic little bit of earth in order to protect themselves or their material possessions. If they were any other kind, I would think of them as perhaps a kindred spirit. Yet not these worms. These -- creatures who belong on their bellies, crawling as the beasts they are."
"They are the reasons behind why I am what I am. Every ray of light is embraced by a sliver of darkness. Every heart filled with hope beats with a hint of fear, and wickedness."
"All you need is the right push in order to bring it out."</color>
From whence did he originate? Even he is not certain as to the when -- or the why. So many ages have passed by that he has simply forgotten the time where he first drew breath and had started to inflict his own brand of terror unto the hearts of mankind.</color>
"I find it highly amusing having heard the tales told of the origins of life on this pathetic little cess pool that mankind calls it's home. How embarrassing to know that one is a sad descendant of a single cell organism that crawled it's way out of what has come to be known as the Primordial Ooze. I sometimes sit back and indulge myself, wondering if those that believe if I originated in much the same way. To that question I would inflict the deepest of horrors for merely insinuating that I could be, in any way, related to mortals. Where humans came from is sad... tainted. Dirty."
"I came not from the same source as they. Where and what I came from is one and the same. Purity."
"To better understand their own question, they would have to expand their conscious thought and instead, ask 'Where would such evil be given ... life?' 'Who' gave birth to the bogey man? To what or whom was he born from?"</color>
The landscape, if one could call it that, was indeed a barren one. Nothing could be seen save for the vast shore of black sands, and an ocean of deepest night blanketed in a sky filled within an endless void. Not for eons was any sign of life given. Not until that one moment where the sky had unexpectedly opened up, as a tear in a piece of paper would open, and a bolt of lightning streaked down from the dismal 'heavens' and struck the surface of that black ocean.</color>
"I am not evil itself, nor even it's origin. I simply am. And yes, much like the sheep that flock to the House of God day in, and day out, I too have a Creator."</color>
Following the strike of lightning that came from nowhere, quite literally, the Black Ocean slowly settled until it was like glass and not a ripple remained as a sign that anything had occurred. At least, not until the waters started to churn and what appeared to be a hand burst up from the ebony shore. If there were anyone to bear witness to this disturbing even, they would be unsure as to what they were witnessing. The hand rose up high, the slick film covering it completely and stretching back down into the waters, breaking the surface of the ocean.
The water started to lap toward the shore as now a larger object protruded past the surface. It too was covered in the same sticky film, but beneath the brackish gray, the tell-tale sign of a figure's head was seen. It moved slowly toward the sands of the timeless shore line until the covered hand grasped a rocky outcrop. A second arm started to reach up and it too, grabbed hold of the embankment and started to drag itself from the foul quagmire. The outline of the body beneath what could only be a foul 'birthing sac' pulled itself from it's own point of origin and fell heavily upon the pointed shards of rocks that protruded along the shore.
In a fetal position, the body within started to rustle about from inside it's own birth, it's movements growing erratic and almost violent. The legs started to kick outward, and the hands pressed heavily against the sac and pushed outward. The outline of the face inside was too noticeable as the figure strained to escape its confinement. It appeared as if it would be unable to, until there was a violent tear in the sac and a hand -- a chalk-white hand -- tore through the silken flesh and fluid spilled out.</color>
"It brings to mind, so many questions -- doesn't it? The image you now hold in your mind .... is it true? Could evil truly have been born into the world in such a violent manner? Well, I have news for you; evil has always been a part of this world, from the moment of it's inception."
"It's a word that is thrown around a lot, and rather carelessly I might add. People can not bring themselves down to a low enough level to admit the darkness that they hold so dear to their hearts. They always tell you one of two things; either they do these dark deeds for the greater good, or they will blame a deity for having 'made' them commit such atrocities."
"I have never witnessed anything to make me believe that there was indeed a being of such stature as the name of Satan. Even if this being did exist, he would not be to blame for all the wrongs of the world. If I were to admit that, I would admit that he were on some level, 'competition' to me. It is not this Satan that walks the night, watching and waiting, using the fears of the natural world against the heart and soul of the young."</color>
The sky over the heads of the Neanderthal tribe was dark, a night filled with stars and a full moon. Nothing as said as the alpha male of the tribe sat back and watched the head female busy herself, preparing the food for the other men with the aid of the filth encrusted females.
They were surrounded in the forest grove, by trees that shielded them from the threats of the night. They could not see into the forest of towering woods for what it was, and knew only that evil thrived beneath the cloaking of the night. The women cast nervous glances towards the men as they heard the sounds of the night, unsettling to their ears as they knew not what they were hearing.
The sound of a twig cracking off in the belly of the forest drew the eyes of the men up and they finally became alert. The female stopped what they were doing, the meal all but forgotten to their simple minds while they watched their men scan the surface of the trees with their eyes, looking for any sign of threat. Despite the false bravado of the otherwise brave males, the chills cased the hairs on the backs of their necks, male and female alike, to stand on end.
They glanced around but saw nothing. Not until one of the men just so happened to glance upward to the small cliff that hung over the edge of the forest and he cried out in alarm. All heads turned to look and fear was ignited as the sight of the two yellow eyes that stared at them from afar.</color>
"Having been around for so long, one would think I might get bored with my actions, as the world changes but believing that I do not. How untrue, and what a sad and limited way of thinking. Why else do you think that evil has come in so many shapes and sizes? Why do the nations of the world each have a name for that figure that lurks in the shadows of the closet, watching? Why is it that I do, what it is that I do?"
"The answer is simple, almost as simple as the minds of those who ask;"
"I enjoy it. I crave it. I need it."</color>
"Okay mom, I'm going to bed! Jesus!"
The young teenage girls voice carried from downstairs of the house, and her footsteps carried her up from the sub-level of the two story house and up along the hallway that led to her bedroom. The door to her pink and lacy bedroom flung open and a noticeably bored teenager entered with a phone pressed to her ear.
Giving a faux sense of entitled annoyance, the girl rolled her eyes at the conversation unheard on the other end.
"I know mom!" She said with a huff, grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair that was positioned in front of her computer desk. "Yes, I know whose house it is mom. You remind me every chance that you get. ... Okay! Okay, I'm sorry. I'm just on edge about that test."
The teen slung the jacket over her shoulder and leaned down in front of her vanity mirror to check out her reflection. She used her fingers to slide her hair back behind her ear as she made a 'duck face' smile and seemed satisfied when she spoke up again.
"Maybe you're right." She said with a sigh, but the smirk on her face betrayed the truth, or lack there of, in her feelings and words to the one on the other end of the line. "Maybe I just need a good night's rest. .. Uh huh. ... Okay mom, love you too. G'night."
She hung up and let out a huff of exasperation. She, like every other teenager on the planet, thought her parents were just too stupid to understand them, and it was the kid, not the adult, that knew best. Slipping the jacket on and scooping up her purse, the teen smiled and bounced out of her room with a skip in her step.
She chirped, "And I know exactly what I need right about now to make me relax!"
She closed the bedroom door behind her and hurried downstairs, never minding that her every move had just been watched. Every word heard by strange ears. The door to her closet slowly opened...
The front door downstairs opened and the teenager stepped outside, and her face lit with a devious smile as she saw the object of her intentions parked right alongside the curb of her front yard.
"Jason!" She called and took off in a sprint toward the truck that her amorous boyfriend was seated in the driver's side of. The boy leaned over toward the passenger's side and pushed the door open and the girl climbed in and no sooner did she, than the pair's arms were wrapped around one another in an intense lip lock that only a teenager would understand the need for.
"Whew!" 'Jason' expressed when they finally separated. "I should get a greeting like that every time!"
"You're going to have to earn it tonight." She replied with an impish grin as she fastened her seatbelt securely. the truck's ignition turned on and they pulled out onto the road and soon their tail light vanished along the intended path taken.
Had they only glanced up, they would have seen the outline of the shadowed figure standing at the bedroom window and watching.
Lover's Lane...
The truck was parked deep in the woods, shaded from any passing cars or prying eyes that might catch a thrill watching two lusty teenagers doing what teenagers would do. The windows of the truck's front end were steamed up, the condensation trickling down and leaving cool, moist streaks against the glass. The truck rocked from side to side until finally a girl let out a shrill cry and slowly, the noise subsided, and the rocking ceased.
Only moments later did the two forms rise up above the window levels and their sweat soaked bodies could be seen as they worked to pull their clothes back on. The driver's side door started to open with a click...
"Wait," The girl protested. "Where are you going?"
"I need to piss." Jason frowned. He shook his head with a smile, having gotten what he wanted, and he slid outside. "I'll be right back!"
Once outside, he shut the truck's door and she listened to his footsteps move off toward the tree line. She glanced in the rear view mirror and watched him step behind the nearest tree, to allow himself a modest bit of privacy. Pulling her blouse on the rest of the way, she started to fidget, not liking the cool winds that had crept up over the course of the night. She felt an unnatural chill and something inside of her just wanted to go home and hide under the covers until morning.
She looked back in the rear view mirror but still no sign of Jason.
"Christ." She muttered. "What's he doing now? Taking a shit?"
She shook her head and reached over to open her own door. She slid outside and shivered, holding her arms closely against her own body. She looked around as the wind picked up and whisked her hair back and over her face. She pulled it back behind her ears and shoulders, and looked toward the trees where Jason had went.
"Jason!" She called. "Get a move on! I have school in the morning!"
She turned back to the truck and started to step inside when she heard the crack of the twig underfoot. She started to turn back...
"Well it's about ti..."
The words died in her throat as she saw not Jason, but the figure of a man standing beside the tree. A man clad in a long, worn trench coat and a large, brimmed hat that hid his facial features. He raised his hand, or what would have been his hand, but was replaced with of all things -- a hook. A hook with fresh blood on it.
She screamed horribly and dove into the truck, slamming the door behind her and locking it, when a heavy thud against the door rocked the truck! She screamed again as a violent, metal rendering sound tore through her and she saw a jagged line of shredded metal being torn down the side of the truck, but with nobody -- and nothing -- guiding it!
All this was being witnessed with a fascinated interest by the golden eyes of Brother Grimm from further within the trees until he moved forward...
The Hook Man reached back to swing his metallic appendage into the glass to retrieve the girl when an ivory white hand snatched him roughly by the wrist...</color>
"This indeed should prove interesting, to find myself in the mortal coil once again, but this time, not lurking in shadows with fear to amuse me. Yet out in the open, before the eyes that doubt my existence, to torture and to maim until the fear emerges victorious."
"It's been planned ever since She freed me from the ties that once bound me. I know not her reasons, but we each have something to gain, of that I am certain.
"I find myself now against a man that claims to know no fear. An amusing claim to make, but one that reaps with falsehood. Argento, I do so enjoy a challenge. You should be made aware that everyone is afraid of something. All that needs to be done is for me to delve deep enough into that rotted soul, discover what it is that you have suppressed beneath that false sense of machismo, and exploit it."
"In fact, there is a part of me that senses a mere taste of what it is that you are trying to hide from me. You have such hopes to rise again to the level of lofty achievements that you once so enjoyed. Victories. Championship caliber status. The admiration of the mortals and your peers."
"How so very pathetic."
"Your most obvious of fears, is that you will never again rise above the meager level that you find yourself at now. You step inside of the ring with the very personification of darkness, and claim to know nothing that causes yourself unease. Well, I will know this answer and many more, come the time when your fate is within my own hands. Win or lose, your fear will be mine. I do so love the thrill of a challenge. Will you only be so kind as to provide me with one?"
"Perhaps, perhaps not. There is, in fact, only one thing that I hate above all else."</color>
"What do you think, detective?"
The one police officer asked the man in a suit as they and a team of five investigators and police officials maneuvered around the abandoned truck. The entire right side of the truck's front end was torn violently wide open by some sharp instrument, but there were no bodies to be found.
Not one.
The detective could only shake his head helplessly as the others continued to look around the grounds, moving into the trees again in what would prove to be another fruitless effort to finding the two reported missing teens.
"Sarge! You better see this!"
The call came from deep in the immediate area. The cop and detective glanced warily at one another before they and those with them took off in a run into the wooded area, weaving between trees until they came upon two officers standing in front of a large tree. And on that tree...
"What in God's name...?"
The detective whispered as they surrounded the tree -- a tree that had a dirty trench coat hanging from it, impaled by a metallic hook that dripped blood from the open end -- torn violently from it's bearer.</color>
"I rather despise competition."</color></size>
