Saturday, December 15, 2007

Chapter the 17th

In art there is beauty, to be assured. But there is beauty in things beyond humanity's primitive senses. Man's sense of athletics is based on what, evolutionarily, they found helpful to their survival and procreation. But I have superseded such trifling concerns. Once death has been out-striped, you realize anything may be beautiful, given the right perspective. Even death itself. The macabre holds so much potential.--Caravaggio

Sheri slumped against the wall. Her hand clutched the handbag in which the gun was hidden.
"Well, now. How did it go?" said her man of mysteries. He was sitting, stripped to the waist and back to her, in front of a bust of white clay that he had been working on. As he asked the question, he didn't bother to turn around.
"It's done," replied Sheri wearily.
"Excellent." He took a wooden tool and adjusted the indentation above the eyelid of the form. "No problems, my pet?"
"He... wouldn't shut up."
"That's David for you. A consummate man of words. Beautiful words, such sorrow poetically expressed towards the end of his career. A waste in the end."
Sheri was quite for a long time. After a while, her master said, "What troubles you? If you are to cry, do draw near."
Sheri tensed, hesitated a for bit then ran to her master, who turned with a preternatural quickness and spread his arms wide so that he was ready to embrace her in a cold yet tight embrace. Sheri began to sob. Michael said nothing, but after instead quietly and slowly licked her face. First the right cheek, then, tilting her neck with a large hand, the left. It felt natural. It felt profane. "Why? Why? Why?" Sheri sobbed.
"Why what, my dear?" he replied, eyes closed as if savoring her.
"Why did you make me do that?"
"Because I can. Because what can do, what one is capable of, one must do. You did what you had to because I required it."
"This... is... so..."
Michael put a finger to her lips, quieting her. His power over her was palpable. Sheri felt her will subsiding into his. "Yes. You feel it. Forget your morals. For that matter forget what it is to be human. You are becoming something quite different. You are becoming... something beautiful. You have to trust me." His hand, still about her collar bone, tensed a little. A hand that could crush her.


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