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Mephisto licked his lips and surveyed the landscape before him with a reddened smile.
Night; or what passed for it in this place, was falling, and had brought with it its queer gatherings of stationary stars that marked the lowered sky, constant and un-flickering, and burning with brazen amber light. He could practically taste it on the air - an ending, and within it, the kernel of something more. A new beginning perhaps? Though really it was still far too early to say. What was that saying again about best laid plans?
The others would come for him soon, and he knew there would be no outrunning them this time. His transgressions were too many; or too few, depending on whose side you were on, and neither those above nor below were inclined to permit his meddling any longer.
Looking down at the soul he held cupped between his rough hands, he could not help but feel afraid for it. The world was big and full of terrors, and it was such a small thing yet. But then we seldom get to choose when we will be born, or in what manner.
Bending closer, he whispered to it so that it might know it’s own name, and with a single upwards motion flung it into the air, and watched as it sped away through the darkness with all the swiftness of an exhaled breath.
Go quickly small one, and safely. Much rests upon you this night. He thought to himself, half in incantation and half in prayer, then laughed at the incongruousness of it.
It seemed, after all, that good deeds could sometimes be performed by even the most lowly of devils, and whatever the fruits of his labors might be, it would bear no stain from his own kind, and none of Heaven’s burdens. That much he could offer it at least, and really, what greater gift could a parent give than to allow his children to be free.
Looking out over the great abyss, Mephisto stood and gazed awhile, pondering the future. There were so many possible branches to take, and so many stories just waiting to happen.
He just hoped he had done enough to make it count.
Night; or what passed for it in this place, was falling, and had brought with it its queer gatherings of stationary stars that marked the lowered sky, constant and un-flickering, and burning with brazen amber light. He could practically taste it on the air - an ending, and within it, the kernel of something more. A new beginning perhaps? Though really it was still far too early to say. What was that saying again about best laid plans?
The others would come for him soon, and he knew there would be no outrunning them this time. His transgressions were too many; or too few, depending on whose side you were on, and neither those above nor below were inclined to permit his meddling any longer.
Looking down at the soul he held cupped between his rough hands, he could not help but feel afraid for it. The world was big and full of terrors, and it was such a small thing yet. But then we seldom get to choose when we will be born, or in what manner.
Bending closer, he whispered to it so that it might know it’s own name, and with a single upwards motion flung it into the air, and watched as it sped away through the darkness with all the swiftness of an exhaled breath.
Go quickly small one, and safely. Much rests upon you this night. He thought to himself, half in incantation and half in prayer, then laughed at the incongruousness of it.
It seemed, after all, that good deeds could sometimes be performed by even the most lowly of devils, and whatever the fruits of his labors might be, it would bear no stain from his own kind, and none of Heaven’s burdens. That much he could offer it at least, and really, what greater gift could a parent give than to allow his children to be free.
Looking out over the great abyss, Mephisto stood and gazed awhile, pondering the future. There were so many possible branches to take, and so many stories just waiting to happen.
He just hoped he had done enough to make it count.
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That's right, it's here once again, the great and glorious Flash Fiction Month! Let the sleep deprivation commence! Though seriously, is it a bad sign that I'm already falling asleep on my keyboard when it's only Day 1? 
Word count: 371
Something vaguely Paradise Lost-y (because that one line towards the end there wasn't at all a reference) with...stuff. I don't know, it could be worse, it could be about were-chickens, so really I should be grateful.
Pay the rest of the Day 1 entries a visit at flash-fic-month.deviantart.com… . Read them, comment on them, and delight in the kick-off madness that is FFM. One story down, 30 to go. Piece of cake.
Word count: 371
Something vaguely Paradise Lost-y (because that one line towards the end there wasn't at all a reference) with...stuff. I don't know, it could be worse, it could be about were-chickens, so really I should be grateful.
Pay the rest of the Day 1 entries a visit at flash-fic-month.deviantart.com… . Read them, comment on them, and delight in the kick-off madness that is FFM. One story down, 30 to go. Piece of cake.
© 2015 - 2024 The-Inkling
Comments16
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Very interesting! An depending on the time you were writing, it may truly be a bad sign that you are falling asleep on your keyboard on day 1. :'D