Category: Uncategorized

By Karly Foland

Back then, my job was easier. When people recognized me for me.The unclean spirit planting twisted thoughts in their heads. The incubus crouched on their chests as they slept. The beast with razor-sharp claws flaying their defenseless minds into mangled abominations. And the manifestation of my efforts were glorious. Bodies shook until teeth chipped and knocked loose from bleeding gums. Eyes rolled back til vessels burst and painted the whites scarlet. Tongues lolled and dripped strings of thick saliva onto scabbed skin. A divine symphony of horrors played out on captive vocal cords. I pulled til voices lowered and produced incomprehensible moans cascading out over cracked lips; squeezed til high-pitched shrieks hurled unspeakable curses and threats at God and their loved ones, but never me. I plucked them. I chose the melody. I kept my name sacred and hidden. Until I wanted to shatter eardrums and drench bedsheets with the briny and acidic fluids of these weak creatures.

Back then, few veered from their understanding of my presence. Only fools, who made nonsensical accusations against their own kind for causing these calamities. Witchcraft. Sorcery. Those had nothing to do with me. And I hated sharing credit. So I redoubled my efforts after every superfluous trial and execution pyre. I showed that humans could never match my power. My power. Beautiful. Terrible. The Destroyer of Minds. There was no Legion. There was only me.

Back then, I worked the night shift. I crept with the darkness across the earth. Simple creatures, they shunned forests, caves, places of the deepest shadows, where light could not penetrate. Feared what they sensed but could not see. I was what they could not see. The chill that ran down spines. The hair raised on the backs of necks. The shadow flitting past the eyes. The feeling of being watched, of something not right, the inexplicable racing of the heart and sweat dripping down armpits and temples. That was me. Always me.

Back then, wise men, medicine men, religious men, charged heavy tolls for useless cures. Amulets and oils and scraps of paper bounced off of me like fighting a lion with a feather. Fevered prayers from deluded saints attempted to banish me. None could banish me. I existed everywhere. For darkness is everywhere. I lurked in every dark place, amplified every dark thought, encouraged every dark impulse. I emerged from the shadows and slithered up legs, torsos, wrapped around necks, and squeezed. Lungs burned and eyes bulged but I eluded their perception. Even as I filled their bodies with my very being, like the black spores of mold feeding on the decaying matter of their hopes and desires, they succumbed to me in confusion, in despair.

Back then, nothing stopped my relentless attacks. So their desperation grew. They flogged flesh until it tore open and hammered nails into skulls and tore out chunks, creating doorways to encourage my exit. Sacrifice the body to save the soul, they cried. Everything crucial, necessary for their lives spilled out of them like rubies and amber. But I remained. Their extremism only served to rob me of my prize, my joy in completing my task. There is no challenge, no satisfaction, when another rips the body from your talons and drags the corpse across the finish line for you. And I loved a challenge. But be careful what you wish for.

Now, my job is arduous. They no longer believe I exist. Only my actions draw their attention, their study. They call my work long, complicated names. They blame natural mutations of physical systems and interruptions in physical processes. They transform the mind into a labyrinth of cut connections, missing gray matter, dulled neurons. They close my entry portals with scalpels and medications. They inhibit. Stabilize. Tranquilize. Lobotomize. They illuminate the night with technology and never let darkness envelope them. They don’t know to fear it. To fear me. Sleep comforts and rejuvenates them. It sickens me.

Now, I must adapt. My own mind aches with the realization of how complacent I had grown. My skills lost their edge, their bite. I must evolve or hungry young comrades will rip me to shreds with glee before replacing me. So I tear my way through the labyrinth’s hedges and find the soft, vulnerable center. I scream chaos and wretchedness into being and undo their hard fought progress. They counter. Dosages increase and medications change. Experimental treatments turn the hedges into towering walls of brick, then steel. I scratch and scratch until my claws are dust on the ground and black pus leaks from my fingertips. I find no passage through.

Now, I’m the feather against the lion. My mind is tissue paper in a hailstorm. I can no longer articulate my thoughts, strategize my carnage. I’m filled with sand, cement, stuck with no path forward. I release my latest victim, who sighs with relief but will never understand what finally banished me. I banished myself. I have done my duty for an eternity and sought an eternity more. But I’m no longer worthy to prey upon their minds. So I hunt now for a dark place they haven’t yet discovered. Haven’t yet desecrated with their inextinguishable lights. Where I once craved them, I now crave solitude. I wail and mourn for the end of eternity.

Now, my own come for me. No. They came for me long ago. I understand now they opened a door within me I never knew existed. So focused was I on my work I failed to gird myself against these invaders. But I offer no resistance. Obsolescence is worse than death. Let them devour me.