A young man stands at a fork in an old dirt road. Flat and winding with fields of golden wheat about waist height on either side as far as can be seen. The wind gently sways the wheat to and fro as a blaring Sun sets behind the diverging paths.
The young man was lost on foot with nothing to his name but the cloths on his back and a fading memory of how he got where he is now. Most men would welcome the setting Sun on a smoldering hot day with no shade to quench their flesh, but he grew fearful of what might come with the approaching dark.
As the Sun set on the horizon it back lit the two paths showing through the trees that waits ahead. The path to his left was well lit and clear. The road ran flat and smooth with large shady trees on each side. The wind from the left carried a smell of fresh water and the hint of succulent berries and sweet ripe fruit. It was so enticing that the young started down it without thinking , but quickly corrected himself turning to peer down the right path.
This path was dark and the road slowly climbed uphill leading to a thick forest that swallowed the path seemingly dead ending. The wind from the right smelled of crisp salty sea water and decaying flesh. Foul and rank the smell violated his nose causing him to turn away and cover his face as he gasped for air.
The choice was a no brainer, but it stirred something in his heart that drove him towards the right. But like most young men he disregarded his heart for his own self gratification, and took the most obvious path. With every step his very soul cried out to turn back but the fear of being trapped in the dark was to strong and quickened his pace as night fell at his heels.
On the darkening horizon a flickering light shown bright like a beacon calling out to the weary traveler. The young mans pace quickened even more to a light jog as the fear of darkness nipped at the nape of his neck, like a beast stalking it's pray. His jog became a sprint as the fear in his gut progressed to terror moving to his chest laboring his breathing and herding him forward. He dare not look back to see his pursuer.
Faint light became a flickering lamp as he closed ground on the house, traveling at full stride. His legs burned, his breath shortened as sweat soaked into his cloths, but he did not relent. The light was near enough for him to see it was an old oil lamp hung at the end of a long porch attached to an unkempt farm house, with an ancient man sitting on a porches swing. He darted to his left and cut across the old mans lawn to escape his enemy.
Reaching the safety of the well light porch he then turned to see there was nothing behind him. Watching from his porch swing the old man removed the corn cob pip from between his blackened teeth and grinned duplicitously.
“Now what's got you all worked up young man?”
The young man swung around startled by the elderly man as his nerves were still on edge.
“I could have sworn there was something chasing me down the road. I'm sorry to so frantically intrude but I am startled and lost.”
“A man who runs forward with out looking back know not where he's going or where he's come from.” The old man said sliding the pipe between his wrinkled lips and taking a hearty hit.
The young man was thrown by the statement but quickly introduced himself.
“My name's Sam, I'm from...” He couldn't remember where he came from and racked his brain for the answer. Like a broken DVD player playing a scratched disk his mind was jumpy and his memory skipping and blurred. Incomprehensible glimpses of his past flashed by as he tried to snag what information he could. Reaching into the flurry of memories a sound came to mind, metallic clanking and thundering horns. It an old train yard.
“Don't worry about that Sam, no one remembers much after they arrive.”
“I live by a train yard.” he said blankly, pulling his hands through his strawberry blond hair.
“You look like you could use a rest my boy, why don't you sit down here and take a load off. Would you like a lemonade or tea?”
“A tea would be nice, thank you. Oh I didn't get your name sir.”
“I didn't give it to ya.” The old man replied as he shuffled into the house.
The night was very calm but as Sam looked up at the sky he could not see the moon, stars or any clouds, the sky was barren. He pressed his mind for clues but he could make no sense of his memory, nothing made sense. He hadn't seen any birds or animals, not even so much as a fly, and the road he was traveling looked like a car had never touched it. He stood up and looked over the edge of the porch on both sides for a garage or driveway but there was not one. Sinking back into the wooden rocker he scratched his head in befuddlement, not noticing the old man extending a his hand holding an ice tea so cold the glass was frosted.
“Oh thank you, this is gonna hit the spot.” Sam said just before tipping the glass back and taking a swig, but their was something strange about the tea. It was tasteless and bland not even tasting like water.
“Is somethin wrong there kid?” The old man asked with a strange hint of enjoyment in his voice.
The eccentric old man was starting to give Sam a bad feeling, but knew he would have to keep his cool in case this guy went Deliverance on him.
“No it's good, just fine.” Sam set the drink down on the little table next to the chair
“Where am I?”
“Where do you think you are?”
“Obviously if I knew I wouldn't ask. I'm lost, very lost in fact.”
“Well to be short then boy, your right here and here is what your mind makes of it”
“What does that mean?”
“If you gotta ask then your not ready to know. Now my turn to ask a question or two. Do you believe in God?”
“Yes I do, I'm Catholic have been my whole life. Why do you ask?” Sam was growing more and more uncomfortable the longer he stayed with the old man.
“Well now it aint your turn to ask it's still mine. Why go left and not right?”
“Because right seemed like a death trap, and I am not about to go walking through an unfamiliar forest in the middle of the night.”
The old man pulled a match from his pocket and struck it on the metal screen door. The smell of sulfur filled the air so much so that one would think they had stepped into a the nine circles of Hell..
“You’re felling uneasy aren’t ya? Well I can't blame ya for that, your only human.” The old man sat back and looked out into the darkness as though he was watching something, Sam couldn't see anything past the porch now, it had grown that dark.
“Whats your name?” Sam confidently asked.
“I have been called many thing, gone by many names so which name do you want?” The old man stared at Sam with a half cocked grin.
“What's the name your mother gave you?” Sam was tiered of getting enigmatic answers from the old man, so he started to play hardball.
“HA! I never had a mother to give me a name.”
“Then what can I call you?” The frustration in Sam's voice was all but hidden.
“Boy you can call me whatever you like, it makes no never mind to me.” The crooked grin on the old man face grew slightly wider.
“That's bullshit what does your father call you? You have a father right?” Sam said with biting sarcasm.
“By father if you mean the one who created me then yes I had a father, but the name he gave me died long before you where born. Azazel is what you shall call me.” His grin shrunk slightly as he readied his next question.
“Why do you believe in God?” A simple question asked, but not always so when answered.
“That's how I was raised and it always stuck with me.”
“Your faith in God was inherited, so you never found God for yourself. It use to be that finding God was a journey but now it's just a day trip. How can you be sure that those who handed it down didn't take a wrong turn?”
“You must have faith, sure my faith is a product of my environment but that makes my connection with God no lesser.”
“Don't it though! How would you feel if you worked your whole life for something and just when you get it, you see some kid get it handed to him for free. He did not work for it and there for don't deserve it.” The old man sneered.
“The way I see it, if you have to work for something, the work was part of your journey and the thing you receive is the destination. Where if you are handed something it is a tool in your journey so that you can reach the destination. In other words the work is what is important not so much the reward, because if you work only for the reward you miss the rest of the journey.” Sam hardly understood himself.
“You don't have a damn clue what your talking about boy. I mean, can you hear yourself right now?” The grin on the old mans face was turning sour.
“Yes I can. Now it's my turn to ask the questions.” Sam started to search for a question to stump the odd old man.
“I still have another question to ask, it ain’t your turn!” The old man barked.
“We have been asking our questions in twos, and you just asked me two questions so now it's my turn.” Sam snipped at the old man.
“Do you think this is a game boy?” The old man said forcefully.
“Yes I do, now please let me think.”
The old man was fuming mad, so much so that he scrapped his dirty finder nails across the arm of the swing peeling away the already chipped paint and digging into the wood.
“Oh great wizard of Oz what is the meaning of life?” Sam gave a smug smile.
“To live.” The old man said with a snarky tone.
“Will you elaborate please?”
“The point of life is to live it to the fullest. Gather the most wisdom and you do that by experience, so he who experiences the most wins.” The sour grin on the old mans face was now an even glare.
“That's the dumbest thing I have ever heard. Life is not a race for knowledge if anything it's a race against time. The time given to you is the meaning of life because life is only time and what you do with that time is the accumulation of your life. The meaning of life is what you make of your time, mine would be getting to heaven. It's all how you perceive it.” Sam felt a sense of accomplishment with his answer.
“So if you had an answer already why ask the question?”
“To see what kind of answer you would give.” Sam's next question was locked and loaded, but the old man interrupted him.
“This question is mine, you asked your two. Why does your tea not taste like tea? Why is there no moon or stars in the sky?” The glaring expression transformed into a wicked smile showing fully his gaped, blackened teeth.
“Because it is not tea.” Sam recalled the sip he took earlier, and how it seemed like nearly nothing other than a liquid.
“Then what is it Sam? What is in that glass?”
He had to think about the question, as it was clear that this discussion was more than verbal mastication. Sam asked himself over and over again, but a solid theory alluded him. He though back to when he first arrived and how he felt like something was chasing him, but when he turned there was nothing. Then what the old man said earlier in the conversation said about this place being what he made it hit. This place wasn't in his mind so he wasn't dreaming and if it was his creation it was exactly how he would picture limbo to be. It was the first memory that came to him clearly.
“The tea didn't taste like tea, not only because it wasn't tea but because it doesn't really exist does it?” The startling realization that he was dead washed over his scattered mind putting it back into place.
“Well I'll be, the boy has finally said something that adds up.”
Sam's memory came crashing back all at once, as the sounds of the old train yard which was less then a mile from his home rang in his ears. The ancient rusted box cars creaking in the cool night wind, groaning like restless giants. Every worldly regret came pouring forth as it only can after one leaves behind the living world and does not find himself at his desired destination. His heart and soul leapt at once screaming for him to run.
“Not so sure of yourself now are ya boy? I know what your next question is gonna be. What do I do now? And the answer BOY is you already failed, you ignored your heart and followed your own wants and for that you failed. You'll be spending a lot of time with me and my friends BOY!” The old man began laughing hysterically throwing back his head as yellowish smoke rolled from his mouth down to the ground.
A strong sulfurous smell over took Sam causing him to cough and sneeze as the smell grew stronger with every burst of laughter from the malevolent old man. Grasping his throat Sam gasped for air falling to his knees. The lanterns glass housing exploded as it's flame transformed into an inferno so hot it melted the houses glass windows and bubbled the paint on the walls.
“Would you like to hear a few of my other names Boy?” The old man leaned in close to Sam, his face piercing the thick putrid smoke, his eyes glowing a brilliant yellow as he bared his sharp black teeth through a maniacal grin.
Sam could only heave in pain as he suffocated with out the alleviation of death.
“The Great Deceiver, The Desolate One, The Fallen Star, Beelzabub, The Devil, Satan all names I have gone by, but my father when I sat at his right hand called me Lucifer the Light Bearer.” Lucifer leaned in even closer and whispered in his ear.
“Now you can call me Lord.” He then snatched Sam by the back of his neck with a mighty clutch and pulled him to his feet to look him in the eyes.
“Call me LORD!” His voice echoed with the cries of millions of lost tortured souls as he roared.
Sam thrashed about kicking and flailing even trying to claw free from Satan's clutches but he was no match for the power the Devil possessed. Though he refused to submit he knew he could not break free and he thought back to the right path and how the horrid stench burnt his nose, but wished he was there now, instead of locked in the fist of the greatest evil. A wash of peaceful serenity came over him as he fell from the Devils vice like grip, hitting the porch with a thud.
Satan looked astonished as it felt to him like Sam had pulled himself free, but that was impossible. Pure unadulterated rage pulsed from within him as he burst into flame and the true demon inside was unleashed.
“Call me lord and I will give you everything, refuse and you will burn for eternity as the hounds of hell feast on your limbs, and buzzards pick out your eyes while my demons feast on you still beating heart before you in never ending agony.” The reverberation in his voice shook the very thread of existence around them.
Sam sitting on the ground free from Satan's grasp looking up in aw of the mighty Devil before him. Stood up amongst the fire and sulfurous smoke and declared “If you are indeed the Devil then you will never be my Lord.”
Sam then turned and ran as fast as his feet would carry him back the way he came threw the impenetrable darkness. The further he ran from the house the more light returned. The fork in the road was where he was headed, but as he ran further and further down the straight level road he didn't come to the fork. Farther and farther he ran until his legs could stride no more and he collapsed at the side of the road face down in the dirt. How long he laid there no one could know but God.
The sound of meager foot steps in the distance made Sam raise his head to see if doom approached, but what he saw was a little old man in sackcloth shuffling down the road towards him. Sam felt as though it was his duty as a lost soul to warn a fellow lost soul of what awaited him if he continued, so he crawled hand over hand toward the old man. He tried to pick himself up to walk but was too weak and kept stumblingly to the ground. when he reached the old man with long silver hair and a matching beard, Sam fell at his feet and called out.
“Go no farther weary traveler, this path leads to excruciating pain and suffering unlike any you have known. Turn now and save you soul.” Sam started to weep at the strangers feet.
A hand fell on Sams shoulder as he wept then the old man spoke in a calm benevolent voice.
“My child I am not here as you are here, I am here for you. For I have heard your cry’s and watched your courageous heart with stand the heat of hells fire. Come now see my kingdom child, sit at my table in peace. You have been redeemed”
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