Kaeos
02-24-2006, 06:25 PM
This is an idea I've had kicking aroud in my head for a good long while now, so I decided to get it started. I don't usually do this with something I just started, but I'd be curious to get some feedback on these few paragraphs.
Preface
There is a tale of a War for the Crown of Creation. But heed and behold the war for Heaven is only the beginning of the story. The creature called man, in his arrogance has deigned to speak in the name of God, and so has told false truth about the battle that raged not only in the higher, but in the lower plains of existence as well.
The dogma of mankind tells that and angel known as Lucifer, created by God to posses the quality of vanity, made war against the almighty in an attempt to over-throw Him and claim the crown for himself. The human catechism of faith then tells that God struck Lucifer down casting him and all of his fallen angels down to the earth and to the underworld.
I say and profess that Lucifer is only the first of God’s creatures to be bestowed of vanity. For the broken and fragmented beliefs of mankind are sorely lacking in true knowledge. For two thousand years mankind’s modern history has sought to record divine knowledge. Yet they have failed time and again in their own vanity and arrogance to fully understand the events that led to the creation of the creature known to them as Satan.
Heed and behold my friends that the truth has been revealed to me and it is both glorious and terrible. We speak of the evils of Satan in our world. We abhor the “Beast!” We call for the people to cast “Him” from our hearts! To drive the “Interloper” from our homes! But do we truly know who “He” is?
Chapter 1
He sat alone atop a mountain of obsidian. What is the measure of a soul? Looking out over the wide expanse of this realm, he pondered the question. The world below him was a black cast desert. The obsidian mountain, seemingly the only mark to break the endless sea of flat, lifeless blackness before him. I this what I have become?
Looking to the sky, he bit back the pain of loss welling up inside him. The sky, in sharp contrast to the land, was a bright crimson. Somewhere up there he knew, beyond the scarlet fire of this sunless sky, sat his Father. Deep in the pit of his being, he knew his Father was laughing at him from the throne.
Finally the pain overwhelmed him. Lifting his hands, reaching for salvation, his face a mask of pain and anguish, he roared at the empty world around him. He bellowed in agony at the red sky above. His fists pumped in rage, his back arched, the tattered and blackened remnant of his wings twitched and spazmed in a futile plea to fly him home.
But he could never go home. No, not home. This…nightmare…is my home now. This…Hell…is my home. My…world? My…kingdom? Still clenched into fists, he now raised his hands and looked at them. The once flawless alabaster skin was a flat, dull grey. The perfect shape of his fingers, the fingers that once held his Father’s hand, once grasped the holy scepter, if only for a moment, those fingers had now wasted and withered. The beginnings of claws. I am no servant of God! He thought.
“I AM A GOD!” he roared.
He stood now and looked down over the black desert below. This is my kingdom. He stood now and turned to the summit. I will gather my army again. He said to himself. I will avenge my loss.
Preface
There is a tale of a War for the Crown of Creation. But heed and behold the war for Heaven is only the beginning of the story. The creature called man, in his arrogance has deigned to speak in the name of God, and so has told false truth about the battle that raged not only in the higher, but in the lower plains of existence as well.
The dogma of mankind tells that and angel known as Lucifer, created by God to posses the quality of vanity, made war against the almighty in an attempt to over-throw Him and claim the crown for himself. The human catechism of faith then tells that God struck Lucifer down casting him and all of his fallen angels down to the earth and to the underworld.
I say and profess that Lucifer is only the first of God’s creatures to be bestowed of vanity. For the broken and fragmented beliefs of mankind are sorely lacking in true knowledge. For two thousand years mankind’s modern history has sought to record divine knowledge. Yet they have failed time and again in their own vanity and arrogance to fully understand the events that led to the creation of the creature known to them as Satan.
Heed and behold my friends that the truth has been revealed to me and it is both glorious and terrible. We speak of the evils of Satan in our world. We abhor the “Beast!” We call for the people to cast “Him” from our hearts! To drive the “Interloper” from our homes! But do we truly know who “He” is?
Chapter 1
He sat alone atop a mountain of obsidian. What is the measure of a soul? Looking out over the wide expanse of this realm, he pondered the question. The world below him was a black cast desert. The obsidian mountain, seemingly the only mark to break the endless sea of flat, lifeless blackness before him. I this what I have become?
Looking to the sky, he bit back the pain of loss welling up inside him. The sky, in sharp contrast to the land, was a bright crimson. Somewhere up there he knew, beyond the scarlet fire of this sunless sky, sat his Father. Deep in the pit of his being, he knew his Father was laughing at him from the throne.
Finally the pain overwhelmed him. Lifting his hands, reaching for salvation, his face a mask of pain and anguish, he roared at the empty world around him. He bellowed in agony at the red sky above. His fists pumped in rage, his back arched, the tattered and blackened remnant of his wings twitched and spazmed in a futile plea to fly him home.
But he could never go home. No, not home. This…nightmare…is my home now. This…Hell…is my home. My…world? My…kingdom? Still clenched into fists, he now raised his hands and looked at them. The once flawless alabaster skin was a flat, dull grey. The perfect shape of his fingers, the fingers that once held his Father’s hand, once grasped the holy scepter, if only for a moment, those fingers had now wasted and withered. The beginnings of claws. I am no servant of God! He thought.
“I AM A GOD!” he roared.
He stood now and looked down over the black desert below. This is my kingdom. He stood now and turned to the summit. I will gather my army again. He said to himself. I will avenge my loss.