Saturday, April 20, 2013

From the Sorcerer Gaumata's Journal--How I Committed My First Monstrous Crime--Warning: not for the weak

Ha!!! It was the one act that finally allowed me entrance into the ranks of the sorcerers. Dear readers, do you really think it is as easy as reading a book on black magic? No. Despite the fact that my "talent" was inborn, I needed one black act to burst out of the bubble of normal life and finally pass over into the realm where one truly has given up all troublesome signs of humanity. True--I had committed crimes before this, but cold blooded murder is different. Whenever I think of it, my body quickens. I could actually feel the darkness as it came over me. Delicious! The power that was unleashed made me burst with joy so much that I rubbed my hands together rapidly until in a flash of ecstasy, I clapped them. Sparks flew out around me and I began to dance. 

I was twenty years of age, a grown man, when I finally killed my mother. We still lived in the small, one-room hut with the dirty sheet separating us. My mother changed men often. It seemed that her career as a whore had given her a perverse taste for the worst of them. This time my mother had come home with a fat man who had begun to undress even before he had retreated to his side of the sheet. He regarded me with a lascivious stare. His eyes were nearly hidden in the porcine face, but I still could see them dully watching me as he stroked his lower belly, which was as close as he could get to the stubby penis that peeked out from the mounds of flesh.

The obese man’s thighs were rolls of fat that jiggled as his excited manhood peeped out. My mother began to protest that I was watching. The man didn’t respond. Instead, he fell upon her and began to rip off her clothes. Her protestations became weak and within minutes, the whore was responding to him with her own grunts. They were rutting swine. I was disgusted.
I waited for a few minutes until my disgust became unbearable and then I got up and looked at them for a minute. The fat man’s behind was spread obscenely as he completely covered my mother. She saw me for a moment, but the man’s meaty face covered both her nose and mouth with his thick lips as he began to suck on her face. I went out and breathed the air. It seemed to me that the smell of their obscene, goatish mating had left its scent on me forever. Taking the oil lamp I still held in my hand, I spilled the oil all around the thatch roofed wooden hut. I then barred the door from the outside and tossed the lighted lamp and whatever oil remained onto the hut. It caught in an instant.

I first heard the high-pitched and frantic screams of my mother and then the bellowing of the fat man. I wondered if it was finally hot enough for her. I wondered if her itch had finally been satisfied. The screaming continued and the man threw himself against the door until it finally collapsed and he emerged, his entire naked body burning as if the accumulated fat in that corpse could burn like that for a month. He ran away from the hut, only to fall with his arms outstretched and his blackened body twitching fiercely. My mother stayed in the inferno. Now I was finally a whole man.

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