I am Satan, Terrifying and Glorious

White walls.

White walls, white ceiling, white floor, white table, white chairs.

What are we doing here?

What am I doing here?

Oh wait.

I was caught.

NO.

I was Discovered!

I squint up at the light a chuckle to myself for a moment.

Should I be smiling?

Or is this the time people grimace?

It doesn’t matter.

All that matters now is destroying that poor slop that’s about to walk in on me in my glory.

Glory.

I like that word.

Glory.

That’s my new name.

Glory.

My name is Glory, and I am a super star!
It’s all about me, baby.

I stared across the table, across the room towards the steel door facing me.

Cold steel.

Silver steel.

Not white steel.

Whores.

Glory.

I flex my arms and pull my wrists up as far as they will go.

The bracelets shackled me down to the chair.

Smart whores.

They know who their dealing with.

Glory! The Super Star!
Is it time to smile?
The door is opening!
A man walks in.

White man. White room. White table. White chairs. Silver door. Whores! I’m Glory!

The man is dressed in a suit and tie, like he’s fooling anybody.

Any poor man off the street can wear a suit and tie.

He just wants to look important for all the dead-beat cops that clutter the floor in the rooms around.

They clutter behind the glass that we can’t see behind.

Clutter. Dirty. Whores!
“Good evening, Mr. Brooks,” the man looked down his nose at me as he drops a large, manila envelope on the table in front of me.

I look up at him.

What do I say?

Smile! Just smile!
I smiled up at him and replied, “It would be better if I had actually planned this interview.”

Interview.

Stupid, dirty, cluttered, paparazzi whore!

The man took a seat.

“Go ahead, sir,” I said. “Wouldn’t you join me?”
“I’m not going to put up with that shit, punk,” He cut at me.

Rude whore.

He squinted at me behind with his old, gray eyes. I can see the crow’s feet that decorate his temples.

The dark bags under his eyes.

He’s tired.

Gray scruff from the day was littered all over his face. Cluttered all over his face.

Whore.

He slowly opened the envelope, his dark eyes never left me.

I hate dark eyes.

So boring.

Green: Now that’s a nice color!

“I wish you had green eyes,” I whispered to him.

His eyebrow arched, “and why is that?”

“Because,” I said slowly. “Then I could actually stand to look at you. Nothing else seems to look right.”

“Cute,” he rolled his eyes and kept flipping through what looked to be documents, pictures, and other miscellaneous things.

“You need to be more organized,” I said.

“Shut up.”

“Fine,” I replied.

He’s probably scared out of his mind right now.

I can’t blame him.

I am scary.

I am also Glory.

Even though I have been roomed very nicely by myself these past few days, I know exactly what’s going on in the outside world.

People are panicking.

They’re scared out of their minds.

The newspapers have having a field day, “MAN KILLS DOUSINS! POLICE EXPECT MORE VICTOMS TO BE FOUND!” “CRIME OF THE CENTURY!” “GREATER THAN BUNDY, DAHMER, AND GEIN COMBINED!”

They love me. As they should.

I am Glory.

I am also Scary.

My name is Scary Glory.

“Mr. Brooks,” the officer, investigator, sheriff, lawyer, God, whatever he actually is, fancy suit, said.

My eyes gazed back at him.

“Would you mind identifying this young lady, right here,” he slid a portrait of a young woman across the table, to me.

It took me half a second to realize what he was doing.

Fuck.

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” I looked back up at him.

“Are you sure?” The fancy suit asked. “Why don’t you look again?”

I glared at him, scratched my face, shifted in the seat and dove back into the dark eyes of the twenty-something year olds portrait.

She had medium length, dark hair, tan skin, a large nose, and big, brown eyes.

She had her hair down, parted to the right, and was smiling at the camera for her “Selfy”.

I could already feel the pressure between my legs intensifying.

I hurt.

It felt good.

I cleared my throat, “That would be an acquaintance, I believe.”

I spoke slowly, looking slightly to the left of Fancy Suit’s gaze.

“Is that all?” he raised his eyebrow. “Do you have a name for me?”

I smiled, “Can’t say that I do. Is she missing?”

“For several weeks now,” he replied.

“Can’t help ya, next please,” I took a small dive into his eyes and pulled out fast enough to try and gage the man’s patience. He was a brick wall.

Fancy Suit then placed a picture of a slender man, with facial hair, light hair, blue eyes, sporting a half smile.

“Nope, not him either,” I chime.

“Look man,” Fancy Suit tries to make eye contact. “I’m just trying to find these people, and I need you to help me. Think about their families. Their friends. Everyone is worried, and we think you can help us.”

I looked back down at the pictures.

My hard on was getting incredibly painful.

I grimace.

“Can we get these cuffs off of me, please? My dick hurts.”

Fancy Suit had his mouth hung open.

“What are you trying to do, moron, catch flies?!”

“You are ridiculous. I’m done. We will just wait for the shrink to get here and deal with you.”

He swiped the pictures off the table, slapped the envelope shut, and stormed out the silver door.

Probably to whine about his failure.

Bitch.

Damn, it hurts.

Two officers walked into the room and unlatched me from the seat.

“You’ve got a long road ahead of you, boy,” said the first cop.

“And we’re going to enjoy watching you squeal like a pig, you sick fuck,” chuckled the other.

I stood up, my hard on fully visible.

“Ha! Look at that Frank!” said the first cop. “Somebody is all excited about this!”

Frank fashioned my arms behind my back and whispered in my ear, “You’re lucky this place is full of cameras, otherwise we would get out of you what the investigator couldn’t.”

He “accidently” brushed his hand across my crotch, stopping slightly to cup my throbbing part for only a moment.

“What we could do to you, boy” the first cop said and he jerked towards the door.

“Probably exactly what I’ve done to every swine that has every lain eyes on me,” I said back to him, smiling.

They exchanged looks and pushed me out of the door and down a gray hallway with doors lining each wall.

They were being rough.

My dick hurt.

We neared the front door to the outside world. To the right, stationed, was a cop waiting to open the door for us. How kind.

The bright sunlight hit my eyes.

The sounds of car, birds, machinery, and people, lots and lots of people, slammed into my ears.

The whole town seemed to have turned up to watch me walk from the police station, next door to the jail house.

I was famous.

There were reporters, bistandards, police, everyone had shown up.

And they all were talking.

Talking about me.

I could feel my chest inflate, just the thought that these people loved me was enough to make me burst.

I love that feeling.

The power.

I rule them

Like a king in a palace.

Except, in a cell.

I control this game.

It’s mine.

 

It took only moments to get back to my cell.

Alone at last.

I sat down on my pathetic cot and looked at the sink and small toilet directly adjacent to me.

My legs curled up against my chest and I sat there, arms wrapped around my knees.

“I’m going to have to tell…” I whispered to myself. “There is no other choice.”

“If I want to stay famous, I just have to give them a little bit of my story for them to chew on.”

“Then I can prepare a sequel that will send them spiraling across the universe."

They love me.

I could feel a small tingle of panic crawl up my spine. It felt like a large centipede crawling up my back and around my neck.

I could feel its sharp legs digging into my flesh as it slowly crawled up and into my hair.

Each of the several dozen legs seems to be frozen over and goose bumps rose up over my body.

My muscled tensed and started to shake.  

I chucked, shaking my body back and forth.

This wasn’t fear.

This was excitement.

I slowly unzip my one piece, orange prison suit, and slip my hand down between my legs.

I could hear the scream of the girl in the picture rattle in my head as I felt the scars she gave me, with her nails, on the inside of my thighs.

The centipede on my back became very excited as I slowly wrapped my cold fingers around myself.

It felt almost like the man’s.

 

I could still feel his body shake in my arms as I slowly gutted him like a fish.

His body shook worse than anyone’s ever had done before.

It felt good.

Whoever that poor shrink is, I hope he’s prepared for the worst.

I slowly moved the palm of my hand to cover the head.

Hell, I hope he has prepared for Satan, himself.

I grabbed on tight and began to twist back and forth.

I am Satan, Terrifying and Glorious.

The screams of the man and woman echoed in the cell walls.

Euphoria.

But I have to be smart, I can’t tell everything I know.

Then they will kill me.

I cant die.

I am Satan.

I am evil.

God sent me here to preach the gospel.

The gospel of lust.

The gospel of hate.

“Ring! Ring!” goes the bells and church is in session!
Step right up ladies and gentleman, for a message you have never heard before!
No more stumbling blindly through the darkness!

No more following laws and rules, and dos and don’ts!

Time to release yourselves to lust! The purest and oldest form of love!

Come my flock!
Follow me to happiness and redemption!

Follow me to the land of true life!
Eat from the fruit that I have provided for you!
Don’t listen to the rules!

Don’t listen to the lies!

Only you can fulfill you!

Only you can truly create a happiness worth having.

A happiness that never ends!

Follow me!

For I am Satan, the Terrifying and Glorious!

I am a super star.
Love me.