Desensitizer

by Kaero Davis

  Enter Scenario

  “I hear the howls from the hounds of Hell, always, through the dead of the night. They draw ever close yet can never sense where I conceal myself. I know they’ve been sent after me for greater purpose, but I disguise myself well. Unholy forces patrol my last whereabouts and upon my return – I see evidence of the ferocity undertaken upon my premises, the destruction in their wake. They’re sent after me frequently, but I am the more wiser, call it paranoia, call it intuition, but it has served me well. And all the time I witness their destruction – I observe them, account for each their weaknesses and plot against them. I scheme a plan to capture them unaware and slay them as if they were pathetic little pups – runts of litters. It’s a matter of hunt or be hunted and I refuse to succumb to fatal demise. Especially by these beasts. On the contrary, I prep myself for the fight of my life for there are many of them, and they are merciless. And I have sworn an oath to defend my own self as ruthlessly and mercilessly as they in their offense. I’ll show ’em a Hell unlike they’ve ever known, only the kind of Hell a mortal like me can bestow.“ – Growlt.

  Darkness of Night

  It’s the dead of night,

  The darkest of night,

  Within the shadows,

  Lurk beasts that bite.

  A blood-spattered path,

  Lies crooked and cracked before me,

  I lust for their vengeance, pray they’re relentless,

  For I hunger as bad as they’re craving.

  A madness like a flame inside me,

  Misleading with intensity,

  My flame; as like the darkness of night,

  Burns for those that bite.

  Fear takes control of these beasts,

  Tempered, threatened, they’ll never cease.

  Hunting, gunning me down to feast…

  But when they attack

  In great numbers, in packs.

  Can’t promise they’d all return back,

  For I won’t just be a snack.

  Intellect is what they lack,

  And shall under-estimate my trap…

  One second what they are,

  Though they are; and real they seem,

  Next, they’re gone and I’m sane again.

  They say there can be

  a trick of the light,

  So, what of a trick by shadows of night,

  My dark flame with a likeness, of the darkness, of night.

  Exit Scenario

  “Huh. I was mistaken, false alarm. A sliver of moon light has shone through the broken glass of the window and revealed no evidence these beasts were just here (this time). Surely, it’s not all in my mind? I cast a glance to the black candle flame and see it flicker as though a slight breeze brushed through it. And it seems that my imagination had run its’ wildest thoughts. Maybe they weren’t there, but I held my breath a moment and listened intently out to the darkness, crossing back over to where I’d just hidden myself. Surely it wasn’t just my imagination? Surely it wasn’t just my mind playing a cruel trickery on me? It must be real – it MUST – I try to reassure myself. Though not hearing anything but the rustle of the leaves from the trees outside – I assured myself that I’d have heard much, much more had I been truly visited by these monstrous, mongrel beasts. I have in fact heard them make as much a ruckus before. And a new-found confidence arose and swelled within me – as did a curiosity – and upon deciding it was safe, re-presented myself from the absence of my abode – and left my hiding place. And nothing. I was alone - so it seemed, but I made to do a round searching to make certain, nothing was out of place – no signs of any trespass. My pulse slowed, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Safe.” – Growlt.

  Enter Scenario

  (There is a presence felt from inside the room beneath the bed. A young man wants to change bedrooms with his sibling but the request is denied.)

  “Dad, can’t you feel that? Like eyes are watching?”

  “Phoz, there’s nothing fucking in here mate”

  “Mum – I swear there’s something under that fucking bed!”

  “For fucks’ sake Phoz, there’s nothing there, just go to sleep already. – And no, you aren’t swapping rooms.”

  “I’m a fuckin’ dead-man.” Phoz whispered, wide-eyed in horror.

  (The young man’s folks left him and slammed the door behind them. He could hear them outside muttering to each other as they walked off..

  Silence, then…)

  “Aaahahahahahaaaahhh!!!”

  Demon

  Demon underneath my bed,

  What do you want with my head?

  Consuming dreams, no sleep is spared,

  This nightmare plague could wake the dead,

  You twist my mind beyond disgust,

  Supercharge immortal lust,

  I flip goodbye all faith and trust,

  Love in embering ash and dust,

  Demon now inside my head,

  Demon sleeping in my bed,

  Temptations path is under-tread,

  Damnation’s where I’m being lead,

  I disregard all I have left,

  I fear I’m sorely failing the test,

  Taking all that I can get,

  And hunger still more yet,

  Exit Scenario

  Phoz soon began exhibiting some bizarre behaviour afterward. He would refuse what food his family would cook, to then open an old cardboard box full of scuttling, scurrying cockroaches at the dining table, and shove a crushed fistful right into his gob. His family watched it all but power-spewed right then. On one occasion, they’d fainted to see him scuttling along the ceiling – only to invent that he’d played a prank on them. It finally ended one night, when Phoz thought it was hilarious to frighten the guests of a party his parents had thrown together. He centred himself in the middle of the room, centre of everybody there, he spoke a profanity in several foreign tongues no one recognized, threw his voice around the room for theatrical effect – sounded like it was coming from everywhere around, and he rotated his head a full 360 degrees, four times.

  Needless to say,

  It was the last time everybody was to see young Phoz again. Everyone had screamed and cursed and ran out, fleeing the scene in a wave of fear and terror. Phoz was seen fleeing also but has since been noted as missing, and presumed dead, having never been seen again since.

  Enter Scenario

  “I’ve got potential, had it from the start. I liked to imagine that my step parent – foster parents rather, were flogging it out of me so they wouldn’t be so jealous of me – nor for any jealousy in anyone else of me again. I liked to think that they’d felt justified in tormenting me just as much as I was feeling justified being a martyr – someone that has bad things happen to them, made an example of, a lamb of god – given up for the greater good. Someone who can no longer be good for anyone or anything for all the good I did for my family. Why did they raise me like they did? What made them want to nurture something to hate, and give the hated thing enough hate to give the family a reason to hate the thing even more? Why did he have to suffer – how could he have deserved it before this? Pre-emptively? They’d designed a beast; some mongrel mangy dog they could torment all his days. I was blessed by the devil. I’m tall, I’m strong, can take a hit but will deliver so much more. I should’ve been killed but now I can’t be. Broken things mend, or have the potential to rather, but this broken thing did more than mend – it got stronger, hardened, tougher – and complexed further because you didn’t just not kill it – you pissed it off. But everybody’s payin’ for it now, but I guess that’s just it – everybody reaps what they sow. Eventually. I wasn’t just made crazy – I wasn’t just ‘touched’ by the devil – I was blessed. And I’ve got all the more potential now that I’m stronger than I was before. I’m strong and I’m smart – sinister,
sickened but smart. I’m the devil’s own.” – Zarkyl.

  Devil’s Own

  I was born from chaos,

  And am as deadly as disease,

  I burn like poison does,

  You’ll soon be on your knees,

  So you want to dance with death,

  I can show you what it’s like,

  Kneel before the devils’ blessed,

  If you’ll not die of fright,

  Yes I’m sick though I prefer morbidly deranged,

  Better hold your tongue and dare not whisper I’m insane,

  Do I revolt you that you don’t look me in the eye?

  Oh, how I pride to hear that you prefer to lie,

  I’d watch you walk the blade and I’d just sit and grin,

  But it just so happens the whole of earth needs a new king,

  And you wouldn’t believe how well that I would suit that job,

  By far better than the liars already in that job,

  But if you really want to dance with death,

  I can show you what its like,

  Get on your knees for the devils’ blessed,

  If you’ll not die of fright,

  I am what you’ll soon come to fear,

  I feel it close – the time is near,

  On your knees before me now,

  Kiss the dirt and do it now,

  Exit Scenario

  “The world is mine for the taking, and why not? What love and faith did it have for me? I’ll make them skeletons – zombies of my own, gather a cult following and spread like a virus through the sheep. Whisper words coded through systems to them, words – triggers that each one will have implanted individually, each different than the last – and the sheep… will do this wolfs bidding. My blood is the blood of kings. And I will be the king of the new world. My soul, my heart, my mind – twisted, contorted with condescension and hypocrisy and all things unbearable; yet so shall be the world. Though, it is already there – I’m just going to lift the veil. I will nurture as I have been. But of course, with such love and care that I will be loved and lust after like that of my father. And a darkness unlike this earth has never seen for hundreds of years will spread and cloak around the world. Devil-blessed and led by a King of the devil’s very own.” – Zarkyl.

  Enter Scenario

  “If it looks like I’m about to blow my stack then you can bet there’s going to be quite a variety of reasons why – and each of which have different levels of pressure or intensity that make me anxious, touchy, edgy, and brimming with a heated aura around my presence. An anger at first but then with some kind of downer to follow soon after. And it takes a good lot of exhausting energy spent to pull me straight back out of those downers. Some time away from the monotony where I can breathe a sigh of relief, once in a while would just be great. I can’t talk a lot about my aggression and irritancies too much then and there because I don’t feel whoever it is I tell would handle it very well, not then (they, often being the stressors). Shit – I know I can’t even handle it too well myself on occasion but eventually, hopelessness befalls on me. Almost as if nothing is ever going to change and the more I fight – the worse it builds. How can you nip it in the bud appropriately? How do you eradicate the tension and the pressure and not feel hammered by everything all at once? A lot of the time I need silence and peace to my lonesome to solve these complications I’m facing. What can I do? How do I explain it to someone so that they can understand that I’m there – at breaking point? I’ll try but I may have to do it in a variety of different ways. Number one; Explanatorium…” – Gjuuck.

  Explanatorium

  If I could begin to explain my pain,

  Know it’s all different but very much the same,

  Over time I suppose I’ve lost more than I’ve gained,

  It’s a wonder I’m not more deranged,

  I am lost in every question that I could ask myself,

  It really isn’t something conversation cares to delve,

  It’s something I repel and often remains dispelled,

  Though I often try reach higher than my everlasting hell,

  It’s like the cliff I stood on broke away and now I fall,

  I see many people for miles but they never answer my call,

  I scream out not certain if this is all a dream,

  I’m running out of steam, help is past or, so it seems,

  How is it some are selfish, and take more than they give,

  Are they conscious of all of their destruction in the path they lead?

  Can they grasp how already hard it is, for some of us to live?

  If I were lesser than I am these days,

  There would be no telling just how I would behave,

  Desperate times can send men to an early grave,

  But I know I’d be the first to punish and enslave,

  But God will offer Leviathan,

  For meat for the righteous to feast,

  Sheltered well beneath,

  The armoured skin of the beast,

  And for all the pain rifting and lashing about within me,

  Will only build so much before it’s all freed,

  It’s guaranteed someone will someday bleed,

  And I guess that’ll finally be the day I’ll feed…

  Exit Scenario

  “Some folk live for drama but not me, no, I’m havin’ trouble just tryin’ to escape the shit. I’ve only ever dreamt of a stress-free lifestyle – free of complications that complicated people only complicate worse. I just want to live my life doing the things that make me happy and content – and not have to answer to anyone or even be obligated to explain why I did what I did. I never feel obligated to tell people what they’re doing is wrong half as much as what others feel they feel obligated to tell me what I’m doing is wrong – or have been. Why is it that I can’t get away with telling people when I won’t tolerate their behaviour or attitude without them having a good fucking go at me about mine? Sometimes I wish I could feel free to speak my mind and tell them what I think – and lift this heavy burdening weight from my shoulders. But d’you know – there is no way of telling them off without them just disagreeing, letting it go and apologizing for being wrong and upsetting your mood. You just can’t, no, they arc up and tell you everything you’re doing wrong and what they don’t like about you that drives them fucking nuts. Fuck ’em – you just think to yourself, fuck this – they can all shove it up their arse, I’m just as important as they are – but fuck, why do I even fucking bother? I’m just wasting my voice – wasting my breath and I’d get a better response from a brick wall. The fucking brick wall wouldn’t argue back, shit. Why fucking bother?” – Gjuuck.

  Enter Scenario

  “No one ever truly understands the damage they do complicating others’ lives when they’re unaware of the toll it takes, despite what their victim may have been through already. No one thinks of the consequence in place for whatever trouble they cause others. A sensitive young man – still a boy is tortured all the time he’s youthful but as he grows and is desensitized – he makes peace with the torment and soon develops a thirst for it. And there is a prophecy that the more the young man pushes through the threshold and closer to death, his obsession with death itself is expanded and he is consumed by it so that some say he becomes death himself. A ferry man to lead the damned to their predetermined sentence. He brings with him revelation to those who’ve far exceeded the time from when they were to know. And his pursuits after the people damned for revelation lead him to ‘unconventional’ methods; where no mercy is spared awakening these ‘damned’ in his countless vicious raids. He is as terrifying as he has to be to get the message across. He’s violent, malicious and never shows any trace of a soft spot. He gives the hard news the hard way – his favourite way. And everyone he meets wish they’d never crossed his path.
Some might say he’s the face of hell itself – only, he’s just the very tip of the mountain – for as insidious as this ferry man might seem – worse awaits yet still. He’s ruthless and when he goes hunting – names are more than just scratched of his list. They incinerate.

  He is a man of great promise, great purpose than those around condemning him of things they can’t prove he does. A slow existence on a mortal plane that steadily builds, a preparation for things to come that not just anyone can achieve. No… It calls for the assistance of someone of more substance. Someone that begs no more than usually needed just to survive. A someone with little to nothing of any meaning to anybody. A person ousted from the social acceptance of others. His purpose far greater than seldom ever fathomed. The burden of crossing over to only ferry others. Misunderstood by thousands – perhaps millions yet, willingly accepting that for as fleeting as his time is with inferiors, as fleeting as others influence on him – his sole purpose far greater on a grander scale, borderline life and death. He has many names, had many names, and will time again. He’s pushed to his limits daily – exceeding healthy states of mind in test of disconnecting capabilities. Capabilities spoken ill of in such limited understanding contrary to its benefit. An understanding so limited it’s a common conflict with peers – on this mortal plane – and people professing in health occupation.