I, Devil (a love story)

Chapter Forty One: Adramelech

We are all voyeurs. If we aren't watching, we are participating. But, most of us are watching. No one is ever alone. There is no such thing as nothing. Everything is being recorded. The universe is a 24 hour newsroom. There were probably other spirits in the bathroom, too, but as soon as I entered I flushed them out. I am strong enough and big enough to throw my weight around. I am Satan, after all. I just wanted it to be me and Wendy. I just wanted it to be the two of us.

It is fair to say that I am obsessed with sex, and it shows. I have been that way since the beginning of time. It is at the core of my personality, my identity. We (my brothers and I) were just made that way. Everything in the universe is just trying to fuck, all the time, every day. I am no different. It shows in my layers of Hell. Everyone is coming (literally) to my domain to have something shoved-up them or into a hole somewhere. It is that way because it is something I can't do-- at least, not in the same way humans with bodies can.

I can almost fuck. I can exchange information. I am so close to being an animal. I can merge and consume. But... that isn't really fucking. It is that layer of separation only a body contains. It is dangerous. It is exciting. It is cleansing. It is hot in every possible way. It is something that only humans and other physical beings can do. It is an activity only humans can do skillfully. Animals have sex but only humans can fuck.

It is one of the joys of having a body. It is an art and privilege. I would give anything to have a body, just for a moment. In the state I was in-- almost real-- almost in active-reality-- I found myself craving sex. I couldn't stop thinking about it after I settled in.

I was poignantly aware of my desire when I was alone with her. All that separated us was flesh. I wish I had a body. I wish I had something I could hold. I wish I had that one thing that was solely mine and could bend and squish. It was like clay, a thing that anchored you to the Earth. I wanted to writhe on top of her. I wanted to feel that connection. I wanted to experience the feeling of animalism, of fiery wild abandon. I wanted the taste of freedom only sex could give.

I boiled up my focus. I couldn't exactly see her undress, but I could almost taste it. I wanted to see her so badly. I am sure she could feel that looming, staring, voyeuristic eyes upon her. She acted like she could be seen, even though she was alone. Wendy didn't strip her towel off until the last minute, when the hot bath was near full.

I could almost feel the curve of her body, the weight of her flesh as she sunk into the waters. I tried my best to hold her, to cradle her in the warmth. I used the waters to conduct my spirit. I pushed myself into the bath itself. I wanted to hold her and I wanted her to feel my presence.

In her head, she knew someone was there. I felt her reach out to me.

"I know you're here," she said in her mind towards me. Wendy, being a witch, was a far better spirit communicator than most humans. She could sense there was something there-- me. I wasn't there to hurt her, so she didn't quite identify me as the Devil. Most humans think the Devil is always there to hurt you. The Devil is the ultimate monster-under-the-bed. The big-bad come to hurt you. The truth is far more complicated than that. The truth is everything and none of it all at once.

The truth, in my opinion, is nothing is out to hurt you except money. I designed the machine to collect pain and misery and feed it to me. But I am more than just the sum of my food. I don't just like to eat, I like to fuck and have a good time, too. What I wanted to eat, more than anything else, was Wendy in her entirety. I began to see what my brother saw in her. Maybe we liked her for different reasons, but I found her energy and presence to be delicious. As Wendy sunk into the waters, all I could think of was to eat her, to fuck her, and to become one with her.