Note: The 'Damned Series', was written in
multiple parts, over several months. As such, there is a variety in its flow,
and style, throughout the series.
The parts are listed below in the order they were written, on one page, to
facilitate reading them easier, instead of loading each one separately.
The parents slinked away to bed, A little girl asleep, Out from under bed and shadow, The spellbound demon creeps. As floats and looks, And stares from canopy poles, And looks upon her purity, And recalls captured souls. He looks into the shimmering, Real person within, And finds a cold comfort, A person without sin. This he thinks, must be true, For he knows the other kind. The type of person drowning, Glancing twice behind. Looking for impending doom, To be cast in the Abyss, The place that always was his home, The place that was not this. Finally she senses, And awakes to face the dark, She reaches to the saddened one, The tormented devil-marked. She weeps a bitter tear for him, He tries but cannot cry. Each night she tries to comfort, While he knows she will die. An innocent to be taken, By random, selfless act, The Devil sends him to tempt, To spare her with a pact. But he cannot spoil her, This brilliant, fragile one. Or ask her parents the question, What cost to be undone. Not a test of faith from God, Not a lure from the Beast. Just a thing which happens, To mortal men at least. She stares inside his black coal eyes, To find the trace of Light, But love and tears are hidden, Behind the eyes of night. Silently she slips at last, With a lightning stroke, and hail. And passes from his clawed grasp, Into the blackened veil. Punishment will be his, For she escaped a lamb. But trapped within him hides the heart, Of the girl who loved the damned.
On cloudless nights, In dreary weather, Wet, Leathern wings Rip through the nether. He alights on rooftops, Seeing perfect in the dark, And spies the glowing heat, Of lovers in the park. Landing on a branch nearby, Touching down with ease, Mistaken for a sound of night, Branches bent in breeze. Looking down he recalls, The wet, hot touch of lips. The loving grasp, the tender times, The late night champagne sips. The exchange of gifts, and time, The sacrifices made, The lives spent together, The lifetimes that then fade. Perhaps it makes it easier, As he lands behind a tree, The thought of a good deed, A feeling that he's free. But alas his task is set, As he takes her life, Then turns on loving husband, Clenching chunks of wife. A shrill, shrieking screaming, As claws sing home but stop. And looks upon the crying man, Screaming for a cop. It thinks a somber thought of her, And for him it turns away. And lets him howl running, But instead he stays. He looks up at the demon, And down upon her face, And howls out a hellish curse, To those in the dark place. He damns the killer strongly, He shouts with all his might, The demon watches heartlessly, Perhaps this man is right. His emptiness is consumed, By anger, and in part, A chance to prove to himself, He may still have a heart. He left him there, soaring high, And a feeling in him pounds, At last, inside an agony, A guilt hidden within sounds. A stony tear crusts an eye, Of a soulless skin so cold, A unheard thing in demon-spawn, As the story's told. Returning from a brightening sky, From the world of light, He returns to whence he came, To the land of Under Night. And for the next time, Sent to steal again, The sweetened soul of innocence, Waiting until then.
Again the demon sets forth, To take a life, or soul, To bring back to his master, To finally make him whole. Knowing there's no reprieve, No escaping from his task, He dons the face of hell, And wears the killers mask. He tears into the sky, Riding wings of skin, Uncaring, bringing vengeance, From the ungodliness within. Taking souls of innocence, Converting them to hate, Casting down the servants, Of his master, claimed too late. This new found love, Flying in the night, Helps mask away the hidden guilt, Of what's deep down still is right. He finds the alley-bum, Begging for a death, And pauses, hesitating, On taking his last breath. Would it be a damning death, Or taking out his pain, Or freeing him from one hell, Escorting him to the main. But the wave of hatred, From what he's now become, Washes over him in rage, And again succumbs. But then the lights come, Police, in his hesitation, They corner him, and drug, He awakens in the station. Doctors come to see the freak, And explain him off with science, But time and time again, They go away in silence. Trapped behind bars of steel, A man made prison traps, His infernal master turns, A deaf ear to his grasp. Exacting final punishment, To the caring demon spawn, The light streams in, burning, The Damned exposed to Dawn.
A specter of a former self, The demon waits the end. Instead of hellish fires sent, His ashen self began to mend. No heaven, but was he released? No more pain, could he be sure? He wondered what became of him, Until he saw his treasure. The little, lonely girl. The one he was sent to slay, She now giggled, dancing, Her only desire to play. He raised his hands in astonishment, And saw not clawed fingers, The hands raised, felt his face, The sunlight's warmth lingers. She hands him a mirror, He takes in his own gaze, Two gentle bluish eyes, Not black and reddish glazed. A final moment hits him, He finally feels it gnawing, His final torture comes, From his face that he was clawing. The punishment that came, Pleasure masked like candy, Left blind upon a hellish beach, Lost and cold and sandy. With a memory of the one thing, The weakness, and it's price, The damning pain that burns him, The gamble of the dice. The chance that he could be one, Of the creatures that they claim, To be a mortal dying, To be a passing flame. Instead the price collected, That final mistake torn, But even in his prison, A glimmer of Joy born.
Sitting on his shore of fire, Blinded in both eyes, Betrayed by his own memories, And his master's lies. Felt around in heated sand, Finding streams of fire. Remembering wrenching service, A slave to the liar. A hand clenches , Tight around a pebble, Aiming to the lake of fire, Held high he starts to tremble. He casts it with a scream of pain, For it cuts across the waves, The heat, and flames lash at him, The lesser demons rave. Nothing, but blazing heat, And lava lakes to burn, He resigns himself to nothing, Lets boredom take its turn. A muffled sound, What is that? A ripple, then a scream? A glimmer of light, A ray of hope, Can this be the dream? He draws his hand across his eyes, To see if it's dream light, But sees a shadow darken him, A salvation from his plight. He thinks to relax, but then not, For his master is a liar. He seeks the comfort of the dark, His hopes start rising higher. Not retribution, vengeance, No tempting visions show, Just quiet, peace at last, Along the lava flow. The night brings comfort to him, His wings flex in the skies, He heads towards the portal, And reaching it he pries. And breaches the barrier, From Hell once again, And finds the night of starry skies, The skies of mortal men. Only decades have passed, Since his last visit, He knows he'll be free, He knows that this is it. He'll not be tempted, made to kill, To give another power. He collects his thoughts, on a roof, Glistening in rain's shower. The clouds roll back, a dew is cast, Upon the morning world, The purple skies hum with pain, His destiny unfurled. He stands his ground, staring East, He confronts the rising Sun. And catches fire, painlessly, Released, he's finally won. Banished, gone, dead at last, Although he was never living, But saved from being what he wasn't, And in the end still giving. No more grieving husbands, No more flying arcing curls, No more guilt for killing, No more crying little girls. No one to come and clean the roof, To explain the blackened stain, Why should he care if he's gone, For he'll never come again.
Copyright 1996, Scott Labrecque