literature

Bastard Son

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Literature Text

He was born to a mother who has never felt the touch of a man. He was born to a father who has never seen his mother but still holds the belief that he is his. The child, never knowing the true face of his father grew up only believing what he was told and suffered from the consequences. The man who hangs never knowing he was born out of wedlock. He was an illegitimate child -- a bastard.

There it stands a giant red cross, red as blood that stained it from the ones who have hung from it. And now hangs another victim -- a pale man. He wears a crown of razor wire that digs into his skin cutting until it hits the bone. Black obsidian nails that pierce his hands to that retched cross. A face with nothing more but a blank dead stare with a mouth that looks as if it never excisted and was cut open with a blade...he grins ear to ear. In his ribs a gashing wound is visible, slowly bleeding to his death with the spear that caused the wound still within it.

The cross itself stands within the middle of a vast ocean, an ocean that is made out of the primordial soup that the ancestors of man once crawled out of. Blood from the nail and spear wounds trickle down the pale man and into the primordial soup ocean, sending out a ripple and giving off a spark of creation making another damned soul. A soul he tries to save but fails as it falls into the abyss and burn for all eternity. The sky is an orange color giving off the feeling that the sky is on fire and on the horizon leafless black trees look as if the have been painted there. Now amoungst this all inches from the surface of the premordial ocean there lays a thin silver walkway that reaches from the base of the pale man's cross and off in the distance.

Off in the distance on this silver walkway a figure can be seen walking across it. It's slowly making its way to the pale man, and with every step it takes, a footprint of blood is left behind. As the figure comes more clearly into eye sight it can be seen what it really is. It happens to be a child -- a boy of what looks to be six years old. He wears a plain white cloth in the style of the anceint romans, he has a head of gold and eyes of blue and a smile that anyone the sane and even the insane would adore......he is nothing more then a innocent child. The boy now stands several feet away from the pale man and just glares at him with that smile, and then the boy spits onto the pale man and laughs. Now his laugh isn't all that childish its a mixture of the childs voice and something much dark, then he speaks--

"You are nothing but a waste a time, nothing more then a false idol just like the ones that so many onced believed in.

"You have caused so many to burn at the stakes because they decided to think outside your will....and you blamed it all on me.

"And I find it funny the only reason you hang here is me. You died because I am Sin."

The boy now isn't as innocent as he once appeared. He is the reason the world sins, the reason we have it all because he is Sin, himself. He continues to talk--

"You're just another copy of the past gods or goddesses that faded away and became nothing but legends, and soon you'll join their ranks when you fade from this world.

"Your entire life is a lie. You are no son of something higher. Your mother was just another whore and couldn't bear all the stares she would recieve if they knew her truth.

"The one you call Father loved you more anyway. I was his child too! But he loved you more. However, his love did not help you much. I got what I wanted. You're hanging there and I'm not."

The boy Sin utters these last words and walks away leaving more bloody footprints and as he turns away a crack runs through that bloody red cross and it decends into the primordial ocean. The body of the pale man burns fiercely when the soup touches him, but he doesn't scream. It is his body that screams as his skin is being burned away. And Sin does nothing more but walk away and smiles that smile of his.
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