by Ivory Autumn
The bug’s eyes began to glow red. It crept towards Gogindy, clicking its wings together in loud, clip claps, hissing like a steaming pot of tea.
“Oh…” Gogindy howled. “You’re a mean bug. I don’t like you.” He brought his stick down on the bug several more times, but each time it appeared unharmed, growing bigger and bigger each time he whacked it. “Die, you devil bug,” Gogindy shouted, becoming more alarmed. “Die!”
The bug seeming to tire of Gogindy’s constant thrashing. It shed a thick skin and crawled out from its dead shell, now much bigger than Gogindy. Its eyes gleamed like sputtering candles. It shook a black fist at Gogindy and reared up on its hind legs, pointing its long, jagged razor-like barbs at Gogindy, snip, snipping at him. Both of its antennas curled around its slimy head like horns on a mountain goat. Its wings folded nicely at its back as if it was carrying a boat on its back. It opened its mouth and hissed, showing off thousands of uneven, black teeth.
“Oh, my! Please don’t hurt me!”
The bug looked at Gogindy with simmering eyes, moving in strange insect-like movements, clipping its ugly hands together, snip, snip, snip.
“You have snippers, shearers, shavers, cutters, scissors, skissors!” Gogindy howled, jumping away from the creature. “You shan’t snip my whiskers. No. You shan’t. My whiskers give me strength. Without them, I am hopeless. Worthless. A mouse. Ah, but you must already know that. Are you the IT? Oh, but of course you are. You tricked me. You horrible monster. And I brought you up with me. I carried IT.”
The bug’s loud snipping and buzzing grew louder. “Yes, I am the IT,” it hissed. Clip, clip, clip.
“Please, leave me alone,” Gogindy howled. “You are ever so much bigger than I am now.”
“Yes, it appears so…” IT’s clipping voice purred. “Now I can smash you.”
“Wait!” Gogindy whimpered. “Don’t smash me. I didn’t mean to smash you when you were small. But you bit me. So you deserved it.”
The bug hissed and clicked its wings together, then lashed out its jagged arms and smacked Gogindy’s head with such force that it caused him roll and tumble over the edge of the tower.
“Help,” Gogindy screamed. For a second, Gogindy was suspended in space. One hand held firmly onto the bell ringer’s stick while the other flailed out into the darkness. He caught hold of the side of the tower digging his claws into the brick. He howled out and tried to swing himself up. But with only one arm, it was impossible. Below, he could see only a cloudy haze and endless darkness.
“Come-on, Gogindy,” he cried. “You can do this. Just pull yourself up.” He pulled with all his might, and nearly let go, suddenly startled. The hideous face of the life-size bug appeared. It craned its neck into an ugly position and brought the sharp barbs on its arms, dangerously close to Gogindy’s fingers.
“No!” Gogindy screeched, whacking the creature with the bell-ringing stick. “Don’t you dare!”
Gogindy jumped onto the insect’s back, pounding the bug with the bell-ringing stick.
“Get off me you maggot!” the insect yelled, jerking back and forth, trying to thrust Gogindy away.
“Me, a maggot?” Gogindy howled, clinging onto the thrashing bug. “You are the one who was hatched from a worm egg.”
The bug flapped its wings and began to fly, zipping through the air with a loud buzzing whir at such a speed that caused Gogindy’s vision to blur. The bug veered back and forth in the air, trying to dislodge Gogindy from his back.
“Yes, try to get me off, you stupid bug!” Gogindy cried. “Go ahead. Try. Try to shake me off your beetle back.”
The bug zipped and veered dangerously through the air. Still Gogindy held onto the bug. The bug quickly changed directions and shot high into the air, soaring high above the tower.
“Ha!” Gogindy laughed, “Now we’ll see who’s the better bug. You or me.” He opened his mouth and began chewing on the bug’s wings. “Ugg,” he spat, ripping one of the bugs wings in half. “You taste like a moth.” The bug swerved, and began to lose altitude. “Yes! Down we go!” Gogindy cried. “You bad bug are finally going to get smashed.”
Not thinking about the consequence, Gogindy reached into his pack and withdrew his rock footprint, and smacked it down on the bugs head as hard as he could.
Crack!
Instantly, the bug fell, veering downwards at a frightening speed, crashing straight into the bell of Conroy. Thunk!
Chapter Forty-one
The Fallen
Andrew’s eyes ached and watered. He could not blink. He could not close his eyes. He could only stare at The Fallen. Every bit of the creature sparkled, glimmered, gave off light, dazzled the eye.
Andrew felt strangely ugly and small in front of such a powerful being. The clothes of The Fallen looked as if they had been sewn out of sunlight.
He caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the mirrored floor, and quickly averted his eyes. To him he looked like a mere shadow, a smudge of dark ink that didn’t belong in such a magnificent place. He was nothing in comparison. He was a lowly stain in this beautiful room. Andrew’s clothes were dirty and soaked in oil. His skin was dark, and covered in patches of grease and dirt. His hair stuck up in places. His lips were chapped and bleeding. Standing in this room of light, next to such brilliance, he felt unworthy, unclean and unfit to be seen. He wished that the light would cleanse him, make him new, absorb him into it.
Confusion coursed through his mind calling into question every motive, every deed, every action, every thought he had ever had.
He was darkness.
He was not light. How could he be? Perhaps Croffin had been right. Maybe he was the one who had been wrong all along.
“Welcome!” the Fallen’s magnificent voice boomed, his words falling on Andrew’s ears like music. “I have been looking for you for quite some time.”
“You have?” Andrew breathed, cowering back in shame. “But I’m so dirty.”
“Yes, you are,” The Fallen laughed, and took a step towards Andrew. “You are late. I was expecting you a bit sooner.”
Andrew cowered back. “You were expecting me?”
“Yes,” The Fallen said, offering a brilliant smile. “How could I not. Such a guest as you. I have been waiting long. We have much to talk about.”
“We do?”
“Yes,” The Fallen murmured, his voice smooth and as sharp as glass. “We do.”
Andrew’s chest tightened. He breathed in frightened gulps of air, confused by the light which The Fallen cast over him, beckoning him, filling Andrew with shame, hunger, and an all consuming desire to let it grind away his identity.
“Wh…who are you?” Andrew stammered.
“Ha ha,” the Fallen laughed. “I think you already know the answer to that question. Do you not?”
“The Fallen,” Andrew said, his voice ridden with self loathing.
The Fallen seemed to expand and fill the room with his powerful aura. “Yes, I am The Fallen!” The words shot out of his mouth like moonbeams, mingled with a mist of darkness that escaped his nostrils. They swirled throughout the room, causing the host of candles in the room to sputter as if in pain. A cold chill twisted around Andrew’s body, mixing together with the light and warmth.
“Come,” The Fallen beckoned Andrew to follow him onto the terrace. “The morning has come. A new day dawns. We can watch the sun rise together.”
Andrew stood where he was, confusion ushering around him tickling his fancies, tugging at his senses. Morning? He could hardly understand the words. What was the sun in comparison to this being? How could its light even dare to shine on such a being that now stood before him. The light, instead of causing clarity, caused him to feel as if he could not breathe, could not think, could not escape. He felt as if he had been smothered in an endless sea of white sheets.
The Fallen paused, analyzing Andrew’s hesitancy with eyes that gleamed with the light of universes trapped inside his irises. “Are we not brothers, you and I
?” The Fallen asked. Kindness, and goodness dripped from his voice. “Are we not friends? You have long sought to destroy me. But I think you can see now that all that I have done, all that I am, all that I do, is good only.”
Andrew nodded, mesmerized by the light that The Fallen radiated. “Yes. I see…” Andrew stepped close to the Fallen, looking up at the being with hopeful eyes.
The Fallen smiled, a subtle, dark shadow crossing his brilliant face. The Fallen placed a strong hand on Andrew’s shoulder, slightly brushing his face.
The moment Andrew’s skin came in contact with the Fallen’s touch, a wave of anxiety and fear gripped him. The Fallen’s skin felt dead and hard like gleaming fish scales. But instead of using water to survive, The Fallen absorbed light, consumed it, sapped it, drank it in order to do one thing.
Survive.
Andrew stepped back, his face filling with horror.
“Andrew?” The Fallen questioned, his voice tinted with repressed anger. “What is it?” His face grew stern, his eyes glossing over with a void that was hungry, desperate, grasping. Mists of darkness, like steam rising off the earth in early morning, rose from his shining skin, giving off wafts of shadows that could no longer be held in by force. They pressed through the pours of his skin, seeking exit, swirling around his rivulets of light, like black crows riding an updraft. Andrew recoiled in horror. In an instant, with one touch, one glance, the brilliant spell the dazzling creature had cast over Andrew broke. Andrew saw The Fallen and his light for what it was---all consuming, deceptive, tarnished---A LIE.
The Fallen’s light was not his own, but borrowed and stolen. The light he gave was distorted, incomplete, shrouded, repressed, and short-lived, always hungry, and never satisfied. It burned like a paper in flames, lighting up fast, then quickly going dim until it found new fuel.
With each moment, The Fallen’s gleaming appearance dulled. With each breath, the being breathed out shadow upon shadow so thick that they stuck to one another like sheets of black paper that settled on everything they touched, reflecting in the mirrors, doubling in size and volume like a moaning, restless choir of demons. To Andrew, looking at The Fallen now was like looking into a pit and almost falling into it because you were standing too close. It drew you in like a hungry mouth gaping after you.
The Fallen stepped towards Andrew. An unruffled gleam of evil turned the corners of his lips into a perpetual smile. His whole countenance had changed in a second. Its glowing eyes had dimmed, as with his shimmering face. It was as if someone had dimmed the lights, and now everything was several shades darker.
The Fallen laughed, noting the look of fear in Andrew’s eyes. At the sound of his laughing, a row of candles in the room sputtered and went out. “Yes,” The Fallen breathed. “I am THE FALLEN. And it seems you now remember who you are. I had hoped to help you forget. It would have been much nicer that way. To both of us I think. But you, Andrew, will help me be more than just The Fallen. You will help me Rise! I will be The Fallen no longer. I will be the Risen!” When he spoke those words, a dark mist rolled forth from his breath, causing two more rows of candles to go out.
Andrew drew his sword and raised it high. Its puny light went unnoticed in the brilliant room. The power Andrew felt in it was just his own, but powerful and pure. “You have risen high enough. It is time for you to truly fall.”
The Fallen smiled. “Don’t you see? You being here will help me rise further. I will rise to such heights that no one, not even you can bring me down!” The Fallen’s dark words coursed through the room, mixing with the light, hissing in around Andrew, violent and angry.
The Fallen stared at Andrew as if trying to pull him into his power. Andrew tried to avert his eyes from the black gaze, but the brilliant darkness emanating from his depthless eyes would not let him look anywhere else.
“Don’t look away from me, Andrew. You have come far to see me. Now take a long look. Look, and behold the being you wished to destroy. Now, tell me, what do you really see? Am I really as bad as you thought? Surely not.”
“I see nothing but a parasite of light,” Andrew replied. “A leach, a void, a blackness that clothes himself in robes of light that are not his own, in order to deceive and plunder so that he can continue consuming that which was not, nor ever could be, his.”
“A leach? A parasite?” The Fallen shouted. “Most of what I take or get is given to me, freely by men and woman who come to pay homage at my doors. It is but a small price they pay to worship me. Do you not see that whatever it is I take, I always replace with something of my own. ”
“Yes,” Andrew said, his eyes flaming. “The world is filled with your useless relics: shadows, lies, deception, and darkness.”
“Yes,” The Fallen whispered. “I know. I planted them there so that when I rise, all that I take back will already be my own. Don’t you see? I own the earth. I hold it in my hands. I mold it how I wish. The earth has given me its light---handed it to me willingly. I have not let the people go away empty handed. For I have given to all, my shadows in abundance. And the people of the earth have ushered the shadows into their homes, into their hearts and souls, embraced them and doubled their volume. I’m well aware that your species is attracted to light. How you thrive under the sun. I have studied you for some time now. But, I have also learned that just as much as your people love light, they are attracted to darkness---and adapt to it quite well, shade by shade, shadow by shadow, lie by lie. One by one they come to me until they themselves are changed, and the light they require is none other than the light I give. Now, it is I, and I alone, who holds the light and the darkness in my hands. The people of the earth don’t care for the old ways. The past is just the past. They want me. I am the new. I am the better way. The sun, moon, and stars have had their time. Now a new kind of star is rising. Just as they have cast you out and embraced me, a new way of life is coming. Don’t you see? You cannot make people want freedom? Just as you cannot make them love the truth. Especially when they have become so dependant on me. Just as I have become dependant on them. And they will continue to come to me, as they have come before. Like moths to the flame, they will cower before me! They need my lies, just as I need their light!”
“They may cower,” Andrew cried, “but I will never cower!” His grip tightened on his sword. He gazed at the shining, black vortex, with abhorrence.
“You will!” The Fallen roared. “You will cower. I WILL MAKE YOU COWER!” His voice thundered through the room, filling it with more shadows. The Fallen stood before Andrew, tall formidable and dark. His face was perfectly formed, carved like white marble, hinting at a gray hue hidden beneath its glass surface. His skin glowed, giving off an almost charming aura. His eyes were dark, but glinted with a hidden light that was startling, striking, hungry, seemingly depthless. His grand countenance that had seemed harmless at first, gradually changed, dimmed. Strange, murky veins of black could be seen forming on his face and skin, growing with each second. “Why will you not be subject to me?” The Fallen asked, his voice calm, and almost soothing. “We have much in common, you and I.”
Andrew narrowed his eyes. “Really? I see nothing we have in common. You are my exact opposite. You absorb light. While I seek to give it away.”
“Don’t you see? We are more alike than you realize,” The Fallen said, his voice growing smooth and silky. “You want peace, I want peace. I love light. You love light. And last but not least, you, YES YOU, ANDREW---have both light and shadow mixed inside yourself, just like me.”
Andrew’s face flooded with shame as guilt washed over him. The Fallen’s eyes filled with delight. “Yes, do not deny it. You have many dark things inside yourself, as do all men. And not planted by me. But by yourself. Doubt mixed with fear. Selfishness was planted in your being long before you ever read the words from the poisoned book I tempted you to read. You profess to be a bearer of light, yet you are just as diluted as I. Your darkest thought, the thoughtless act, the unkind word, the selfish deed---these, yes
all these---and more have fueled the darkness I radiate. You have given me power, and you did not even know it. You have served me more than once, Andrew, you who pretend to serve light. Why do you think I so easily beguiled you when you first saw me? Come and worship me like the lowly shadow you are. Ha, ha, HAAA!”
Andrew stood before The Fallen, condemned, tried, and judged by the master of darkness. The Fallen spoke true, though he was the Lord of lies.
Andrew knew he had, at times, been selfish. He hadn’t always acted right. Even now, doubt and fear clouded his mind. It came even without him asking for it. Perhaps it was in his fallen nature, man’s weak ways. But there was something else, something far more powerful that reached out through the darkness, speaking to him of a birthright that he bore, of something that transcended all else. The Fallen had mixed truth with a lie.
The Fallen was not his master. Yes, he had at times, faltered. Yes, he had been tempted. But he turned back to the light every time. He knew which master he had served, and so did The Fallen. He had not yet bowed the knee to the darkness. He had not yet given in. Yes, both light and darkness battled in his heart every day. But it was the light that came through every time. Andrew’s face gleamed with light as he looked from The Fallen to the sword he carried. He was a vessel of light, a bearer of truth. The Fallen was a vessel of Darkness, and a bearer of deception.
“I will not bow before you!” Andrew shouted, so loudly that his voice echoed through the room, cutting back a curtain of shadows that hovered around him.
“Your lies mean nothing to me. I know which master I serve. And IT IS NOT YOU!”
The Fallen cocked his head. He licked his lips, as if tasting the shadows accumulating like a great beard around his mouth. “Don’t be silly, Andrew. I have always been your master. And I always will be.”
“No!” Andrew shook his head, and took a bold step towards The Fallen. “You are master of shadows and keeper of lies. I am the bearer of light, wielder of truth. And I shall cut you asunder!” As Andrew spoke those words his skin began to shine. His eyes filled with light. He held the sword high, like a mighty beam growing bright from the strength within his own heart.
