by James Murphy
Silas was out there, and James didn’t have the slightest idea where to look. As he glanced at the horizon he saw a vast expanse of sand and rock, canyons and buttes, populated by the occasional assembly of dead brush, dried flowers, and cacti. Every piece of the desert seemed to turn and take notice to James once he had Scorpio’s blessing. There was a reverence. James understood his objective with a divine level of clarity. He had learned a lot about himself on the Seventh Floor and remembered from his experiences that the virtue of humility had worth far beyond its face value. Though he was strong, he was careful not to let his ego get the best of him. He needed to be focused, not proud. Too easily, a man fails to execute in full effect when pride and ego fills the soul. James walked slowly, humbly, and began to search for anything that might lead him to Silas. The spirit world was foreign to James. It was a place where the sights and sounds were unfamiliar and followed few laws of nature, but the feelings the atmosphere derived made perfect sense. The spirit that James captured on Sweet Grass Hill and on the Seventh Floor were embodied in every object found in that dark desert landscape. It was vast and begged of you to find direction from within. There was no assistance, no supplement of energy. It heightened the senses, and extruded the will. With every step the soul looked long and hard at all its flaws and all its beauties. With every step the sand crunched like crusted snow under James’s legs as he cruised along the desert. The air smelled sweet like a musk of sage and citrus. Most of the plants were hiding behind a mask of dead bark. They knew evil was afoot, but shivered with joy as James cruised past as all the lives disguised in their detritus husk. James was looking for anything that sent the same feeling as the slaughter house rushing through his viens. He was looking for that same feeling he had when Silas first spoke to him on the Seventh Floor. James was hunting anything that gave him that blood-curdling, evil feel.
As James was cruising the desert, he noticed a cactus down on its knees praying. James thought this to be a bit peculiar, so he began to talk to the cactus.
“May I ask what you are doing?” James pried
“I am praying. See, a very evil creature has come to find haven in our desert. I am praying that God will send a warrior to save us.” The cactus replied.
“I believe I am the warrior God has sent to save your desert. I am here to find the Antichrist and send him back to Hell.”
“Well, you are a rather large scorpion. I was told Star Boy would come to our salvation. What makes you divine?”
“Years ago, I had a vision quest on Sweet Grass Hill, and I was told that I would be a great warrior. Recently I was locked up on the Seventh Floor of a mental hospital and have been fasting for the past 13 days. I am here to defeat the Antichrist, but I need help. I don’t know where to find him.”
“I’ll help you!” the Cactus cried. “This Antichrist you speak of must be the Great Horned Snake and I will help you find him!”
Cactus got up, and the two began walking through the dark desert. The winds kicked up and began blowing sand in their faces. It yipped and howled like the voice of Coyote but the two were determined to find signs that would lead them to the Great Horned Snake, Silas, the Anti-Christ.
“The last time it was night time in the desert, Sage was kidnapped. His sweet perfume no longer filled the air. He returned when the sun rose, but I am not sure if he will be safe tonight,” Cactus said in a worried meter.
The thought of Star Boy saving his people ruminated in James’ mind. He looked to the skies, and found direction in the stars. He felt the ebb and flow of their energy as they shined down on the spirit world. The cycles of time and energy swayed hither, and thither, and yon’. The eerie feeling of the cave shifted into something positive by the time James began to talk to Cactus. Time seemed to be standing still in those intimidating moments, but sped to warp-speed during the comfortable ones. It all inspired thoughts in James’ mind; he had not eaten in 13 days. He prayed something silently, and embraced Cactus in his prayer. He also began to understand the soul of the desert was not unified. There were breaks and hummocks, patches of negativity, and patches of positive energy.
“It has been day in the desert for a very long time, at least five years, but recently the sun has begun to set, and now it is night. Night is not good in the desert for my friends and I. Evil seems to grow, and the beauty of the desert hides. The only good that remains are the stars.”
James looked at the stars and thought for a moment.
“If only I could see what the stars see.” Then with a bit of haste he turned to Cactus. “Can you show me where Sparrow lives?” He asked
“Sparrow lives with my brothers. They are not far away,” Cactus replied.
The two of them began walking towards where the Cactus’ brothers lived. As they ventured closer to the location, minerals appeared in the sand. They were glowing brighter in shades of blue, green, pink and purple. The wind kept yipping and howling, but the scent of Sage was no longer detectable to the nose. Cactus grew nervous, and with good reason. When they arrived they found Sparrow along with some disheartening news. All of Cactus’s brothers were dead.
“How could this happen?” They asked Sparrow.
“A great vulture came down from the sky and tore them apart.” Sparrow replied. “I was fast enough to escape.”
Cactus wept. “My brothers were so harmless,” he thought. “How could anyone do such a thing.” Cacti bring so much life and beauty to the desert. Whoever or whatever did this wanted to destroy something beautiful. Cactus’ emotions went from the very top to the very bottom. His peaceful desert was under attack, and Silas was at the root of it. All the beauty and splendor of the spring-desert turned into the vast, desolate winter. Cactus turned to James and said,
“I cannot go on. I must stay and mourn my brothers’ death.”
James understood, but gained determination afoot of the immediate tragedy. James wondered “If I was Silas, the Great Horned Snake, where would I hide?” He had a thought, and turned and asked Sparrow if he could climb on his back, and fly high in the sky, and search for a place the Great Horned Snake might hide. Sparrow took off, beating his wings with such haste that he began to sweat in the cold night desert. He flew in a circle, then a bigger circle, then in a bigger circle. James soon began to smell the scent of blood and raw meat. Adrenaline surged through his veins. His exoskeleton began to tighten as he spotted a canyon of black rocks stained with red streaks, and he could hear a creature taking long, heavy breaths. James was beginning to feel out the sensations derived from the exoskeleton he acquired from Scorpio. It was strange. So exact, and rigid. It was cold. There was none of the comforting insulation offered by the fat found in mammals. Sparrow landed, and James crawled off of his back. When his legs hit the sand all time was lost, and James felt a sense of clarity that was beyond anything he had ever experienced before. He felt space oscillate in cycles. As he embraced those cycles, the rhythm of the spirit world became apparent, and James moved in harmony with it. As he did, he began to see the energy and consciousness of all that dwelled in that place, as well as their fears and affinities. Sparrow bid James farewell and James set out to fulfill prophecy. As he lumbered along, the moon began to speak to him in a voice so soft it could barely be heard. She said be brave and believe in yourself. The feeling of battle became eminent. He cruised the desert towards the canyon, and the glow from the minerals in the sands grew dimmer and dimmer. James was so focused. Nothing could remove him from that precise point in his mind, even though Silas picked the perfect battle ground. The desert can be so vast that the mind begins to wander as all the references between space and time vanish. In the spring time when all the plants are in bloom there is no place more beautiful and livelier than the desert. All the plants and flowers give definition to beauty, and belonging, but spring had turned to winter in the blink of an eye, and all that beauty turned to lifelessness. Now, only snakes and scorpions roamed the desert. No flowers swimming in the oases. No cacti chasing each other over
the sand. No festivals of life where the plants and animals danced full of life to the rhythm of the day. No, this was a place where the most confident of spirits began to question themselves in the hunt for evil. Reason and rationale seem to disappear with the vegetation as the seasons change and life leaves. James was once again on a journey in his mind, alone with himself, and in the danger of introspective doubt. James kept lumbering along looking for the canyon, all the while Moon whispering comforting words in his ear. A pungent musk spread throughout the air that made eyes tear up and stomachs turn. As James continued on the hunt, he began to understand exactly what that smell was. It was fear. The stench fueled the fire inside of James like the scent of blood to a predator. He became eager, and the adrenaline flowed. He was careful not to get excited. Precision and clarity could have been so easily lost to the impulses of excitement, but fortunately for James he had not gotten excited about anything since that professional told him he was not fit to be released. He had to be keen, make calculated decisions, and take calculated actions. Silas may have been giving off the scent of fear, but most creatures are most dangerous when their livelihood is being threatened.
James continued along the vast desert passing gatherings of lifeless husks of plants, and focusing on each step he took, understanding that each took him closer to Silas. He continued on, gaining in zeal as he closed the distance between himself and Silas. Finally James came to that canyon; a gnarly scar gouged into the black desert bedrock stained with red streaks. The smell of fear was thick as it floated through the air. The sky looked ominous. There were few stars and nearly no light. The red streaks oozed and dripped from overhead, viscous with a greasy sheen. Heavy breathing could be heard echoing down the canyon. James knew that this was the canyon where the Great Horned Snake, Silas, was hiding. Dark whispering cries hissed as James gazed deep into the crevasse. Such sounds would send chills down the spine of a lesser man, but James spent prisoned hours preparing his soul for the act he was about to execute.
He began walking up the canyon. He was getting nearer to Silas when thunder crashed and lightning broke from the sky, dumping torrents of rain into the desert. All the surface water hit the canyon and rushed downhill towards James like a thousand horses. The wall of water struck him with fury, and hauled him down the canyon with the water screaming like demons as it carried James back down to the mouth of the Canyon. For the first time in his life James felt fear for his mortality. The fear of one’s own mortality is quite possibly the most genuine, eye-opening emotion a person can have. It sends you on an introspective journey that questions every morsel of your character. When you escape death you become more self-aware. You see the strength within you, and lose all sympathy for the devil. Everything seems so much purer and fundamental. Truth, reason, and purpose lie naked in front of you, and after James’ little brush with death in the canyon, he snatched up all of this as easily as plucking leaves from a twig. He brushed himself off and scurried his six foot exoskeleton headlong up the canyon once more. As he did, a fire inside of him physically burned, and Ron’s dream began to come to life. It started as a mild, tender flicker down in his belly, and grew stronger as he headed up the canyon. On his second trip up that scar cut into the breast of the desert, he heard the most demonic voice ever hissing tongues. The sounds slithered through the air, and pierced James’s thoughts, but James continued towards his destination, unintimidated. As he cruised along he could see thousands of blood red spiders creeping back into the cracks of the cliffs as he approached. By the time James reached the head of the canyon the fire inside of him was now a roaring blaze. Smoked rolled out of his nostrils, and fire spat from his pinchers and stinger. At the head of the canyon James found a cave. He yelled into the cave
“Silas, come out and meet your fate!”
The hissing tongues were getting more demonic and more complex. At James’ request, the Great Horned Snake slithered out from behind the rubble at the mouth of the cave. He was twenty feet long and as big around as a car tire. He moved slowly and flicked his yellow tongue and glared his yellow eyes. He hissed tongues at James.
“You in your filth, you think you are more virtuous than I? You know nothing of righteousness. I please a god far more than you ever will, or could even dream of.”
“That will be a little hard when you’re dead.” James replied.
They charged at each other. As they did, swarms of hornets flew from Silas’ eyes, and sulfur dripped from his fangs. His scaly hide stood erect with bards, as he slithered with the quickness of lightning. James thundered ahead, surviving the swarms of hornets. They attacked with ferocity, but could not break the shell of his exoskeleton with their stingers. And when he reached Silas in that scar gouged deep into the desert he was sure to be the first to strike. He snatched up Silas by the throat with his fiery pinchers, and drove his stinger deep into the head of the Great Horned Snake, injecting a healthy dose of Holy Water. Silas fell limp and lied dead on the cold desert ground in the cold desert night.
Chapter 17
James caught himself in a whirl-wind as the sun began to rise upon the spirit world. James could see Coyote on the horizon looking at back at him, smiling like a butcher’s dog. At the blink of an eye he found himself sitting in the lounge of the Seventh Floor. Silas was lying in front of him with blood pouring out of his ears, eyes, mouth, and nose. James couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He had killed the Anti-Christ! Coyote’s prophecy had come true! The sight of Silas lying there, dead, before him shocked James. Stunned, James ran for help. It wasn’t the fact that Silas had died that scared James. It was the fact that he was the only witness to what had happened and there was no chance in Hell that James would tell a soul what truly went down. He feared accusations of assault and murder. He sprinted down the hall to the nurses’ desk.
“Come quick! Its Silas!” James prompted.
Two nurses hurried back to the lounge with James, and there they saw Silas lying dead on the floor with blood dripping from his face. They checked his vitals and radioed for doctors. They were in a frenzy when they finally asked James what happened.
“I don’t know I think he had a seizure or something. He just started bleeding and fell out of his chair.” James replied.
Doctors came up and took the body away. The whole floor was buzzing with whispers and big eyes all day. There was no sign of assault, so James was confronted with little address, and down inside he was smiling from ear to ear. He had defeated the Anti-Christ! Dr. Chode could sense a giddy contentment about James after Silas had died. Dr. Chode came up to James in the most unprofessional manner and asked,
“Why do you seem so happy? A man is dead!”
James took a second, and looked out the window. He could see the wild flowers on the hillside smiling, bowing down before him. The plants were once again dancing to the rhythm of the day.
“I feel like I have defeated whatever evil was in me.” James replied with deep sincerity
Dr. Chode didn’t know what to say. Any warm blooded mammal with half a heart would have taken satisfaction with James’ words, but it only brewed suspicion within Dr. Chode. He was about to put the boots to James.
The next morning James rose with a bit of pride in his heart. To James he saved humanity from whatever heathen was about to brainwash social order the world over, and he was ready to leave the Seventh Floor. James was ready to feel the grass and sand beneath his feet. James was ready to feel the sunshine down on his face. James was ready to be free when Dr. Chode walked into his room on the 24th day of his stay on the Seventh floor.
“Pack your bags. You’re going to the funny farm!” was all Dr. Chode said, and he walked out.
James had enough. He beat the traumatized state of mind he developed from working in the slaughter house. He found Nirvana. He beat the Anti-Christ. All that he wanted was to be free, and at the very least he deserved it. He conquered evil after evil, but evil still lived in people, and he would never have the power to completely conquer th
at. James contemplated attempting to escape once again, but he had no faith in the possibility of success. James’s ego was growing, but it wasn’t that he was self-absorbed. In fact the opposite couldn’t be more true. His entire spirit was diffused into every environment he ever came in contact with; his home in Appalachia, the slaughter house in Montana, Sweet Grass Hill, the Seventh Floor, and humanity as a whole was richer for James had been there.