EROS: The Light Project

HELL IV - Life is just a short movie

 I remember when I used to spend my time serving the old owner of the mansion: he

had never thanked me, or insulted me, or said anything; he spent the day lying on the sofa with his eyes closed.

Only sometimes did I happen to hear him praying from the radio: he asked for justice, he asked for respect, he asked for balance -- but to whom? He would never get anything from God, so I speculated that he was simply asking the devil for mercy.

I felt a strong pity for him; for quite some time I tried to find out in every way what had reduced him to that state, with neither legs nor arms.

My doubts were answered in the drawer of a bedside table, where a newspaper article was hidden:

TRAGEDY IN BILLIONAIRE'S HOME: YOUNG MAN SETS FIRE TO MANSION AND KILLS FATHER

Apparently the old man's son was as psychopathic as he was, and one night he decided to burn his house (where he lived with his father) to the ground: rescuers managed to save only the boy, while the old man died after several surgeries that left him maimed and disabled.

The boy's name recurred in his father's prayers:

Eric.

An unstable, violent and troubled boy. Therapy and psychotropic drugs were of no use: he seemed to possess a devilish strength, an inner energy that never made him sit still.

So tall and sturdy that he scared doctors and nurses, paid handsomely by his wealthy father.

I thought his father was praying for the salvation of his son's soul ... instead he only wished that he would join him there in Hell.

Evidently his prayer was heard, because as soon as I saw that monster I recognized the same boy in the picture in the newspaper.

Eric.

Humanity had left his body, making him for all intents and purposes a demon.

I wish I had told this story to Nathan, Leonardo, and especially Fireclose right away: the latter was my greatest source of security, or at least before I saw him ripped in two in the living room.

TRRrrrRrRrrrrrr!!!

A tremendous rumble accompanied what seemed to be an earthquake: the floor shook, shaking furniture and windows.

The tremor threw me to the floor: I wanted to scream, but I said nothing.

The monster before our eyes was ready to kill us, as Nathan tried to warn himself with his bat.

-KEEP OUT!" he shouted, pointing the weapon at him.

TRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

Another jolt, and Leonardo fell next to me.

In his eyes I could still see the tremendous confusion over what had happened to Fireclose; he seemed neither frightened nor sad nor even angry: just confused.

I rested my hand on his shoulder; I wanted to ask him, -Are you all right?- but I said nothing.

From the remnants of the television set light flames flared up.

Nathan had struggled to stand, tiny in front of the ogre.

I could not stand his strong fearfulness, so I was impressed to see him facing that nightmare.

He was all sweaty and pale, but he seemed convinced of what he was doing.

-STAY AWAY I SAID!-.

The monster opened its bloody mouth, showing its sharp, blood-soaked teeth.