Mere Mortal to Comprehend
A curse escapes lips pursed to perfection, an image that many artists throughout time have tried in vain to capture and reproduce. Rouge portals I’ve traced with my own trembling fingers and caressed many times in moments of absolute dream like ecstasy. Pulled back in a grimace of concentration they lend her features a primitive bestial appearance that’s so utterly foreign upon her angelic form, nevertheless a visage of delight the Gods themselves would pledge eternal allegiance to.
Various muscles under the torn thin fabric of her shirt tighten as she prepares for yet another vicious assault, a snapshot in time I will no doubt reminiscence upon over and over. Thin beads of moisture line her brow giving her an ethereal sheen I’m reminded once more of what it is that attracts me about her so.
The stout metal rod steady within her delicate yet firm grasp connects with my prone form time and time again. Ahh, the pleasure to be ‘deconstructed’ by her. She who remains nameless, for a name could never come close to describing her true essence, a stunning creature that no mere mortal could ever hope to comprehend even if given an eternity to ponder.
I feel a lung puncture under the powerful onslaught of blows and a kidney flatten into mush, my bladder explodes spilling various toxins across neighbouring internal organs. I grunt, not in pain, but because it seems appropriate.
Through a crimson drenched screen, sight that’s rapidly failing, I spy coiled innards spill lazily from my ruptured torso to spool tightly around my lower extremities. My shell never ceases to amaze me no matter the number of times I grow another to inhabit.
She stops momentarily to wipe at her brow, physical exertions have caused sweat to encumber her vision. The lines of her classic beauty are silhouetted boldly against the fading light of the day, the image makes my face contort into a faint mockery of a smile the best attempt my annihilated features will allow.
The tirade of blows continues slowly transforming my form into a bloody radius, that of an oversized artist’s palette consisting mainly of crimson hues dotted by only the occasional and rather faint flash of ebony.
Slipping into unconsciousness I willingly surrender to the Reaper’s embrace my last image is of her face as she utters, “I love you,” and plants a kiss on my forehead. As I descend I’m thrown back millennia to the first time I glimpsed upon she who shall remain nameless.
I followed this vision for days before I ventured to start a conversation. I needn’t have bothered however as it was she who broke the ice with a playful gaze and wicked grin.
She surprised even me with her blunt choice of words.
“So how is it that you spend time to fill the boredom of eternity? Doesn’t time just seem to flow seamlessly after about the first five hundred years?”
It was true.
Immortality sounds like a blast. Right. It’s only partly true, in fact, imagine all the niggling annoyances a mortal will encounter throughout their lifetime then compound them with constant relocations, financial institutions asking copious questions and the overriding fear of discovery. Mary Kay be damned! It’s a curse looking youthful when you never age.
We’ve spent several lifetimes together, with obvious breaks in between lest the restless villagers ‘cotton on’. Eventually thwart with merely an eternity of boredom to ponder upon we devised and concocted a unique and imaginative scheme. More a string of events, all of which conclude in much the same result.
The idea brought with it exciting new hurdles and intricacies to our existence giving it a sense of excitement where before there was very little, it also keeps things fresh and ultimately ensures that pesky mortals have to try harder to keep abreast of what in fact we are and what they could never hope to be.
Of course this ‘game’ has a number of rules, considerations of the utmost importance we must each perform to ensure it can be played again. Unlike any other however there is no winning or losing. Its premise revolves around the ‘hunt’ (for there’s a whole world out there where either one of us could be) and the ‘ultimate moment’ one that the other knows is coming but not when.
That instant has just passed. Truth be told it’s an odd fetish, unfathomable to any but a very rare few, and enjoyed by both of us in very different ways, depending of course upon the role.
It will be a great while and I have a great deal to accomplish until I get to taste the ‘other side of the coin’. It’s my turn to hunt next but rest assured when the time comes I have some truly devious campaigns in mind. A new twist to put in place. I may even bend a few rules, replace a great many, or change the rules entirely… perhaps rewrite the damn lot? I’ll have a lifetime to decide on the specifics, after all when you have eternity to play with time matters not, only what one does, or is willing to do, to try to coexist alongside it’s parameters amongst mortals.
Now I must rest.
It takes a great deal of energy to revitalize and reenergize (reincarnate if you prefer) to put me even close to a position where I may be able to think and plan upon such things.
Strange then that I do not feel the comfort of warm earth around my pulverized and dislocated form. I can only hope that my companion has stuck to the rules and her end of the bargain.
Only time will tell and I have an eternity in which to wait.