Legacy of Judas - Book One

by Aragon, Christian

  But, their souls, Martha’s and Tom’s, didn’t actually touch though they were so close. We were all coming down from the explosion of emotion and sensations we had just experienced. We watched their souls peacefully retreat from coming so close to being one, and just an instant separated from their bodies. Their souls seemed at peace with this though still wanting it to happen again. They took back up their coffers and all the other intangible trinkets of their lives slowly. Both bodies eventually succumbed to the peaceful aftermath of a battle of beautiful feelings and ecstasies. Tom and Martha heaved and breathed heavy into one another’s mouths and on each other’s skin while still exchanging kisses in all their drenched glory.

  Slowly I made an exit from their room. I don’t know why I was trying to be so stealthy about leaving. I stole one quick glance back at the two of them and saw something I personally was never able to experience. They held each other after their beautifully rambunctious acts of love, passion, and even a delicious bit of depravity. They just held one another despite the balmy heat and sweat of the evening.

  My mortal life, long as it was, never held such an experience between myself and another. Women were little more than property when I last lived. Physical sentiments of such beauty were rare for women. I personally have never known such a sentiment could be shared after such an act. At all … actually.

  Journal entry XV

  I realize it’s been a great deal of time since I last wrote. Since Victoria’s seventh birthday she and the dog, Lusa, have grown very close and have spent great deals of time together. They have both been as children should be; playful, energetic, best friends. Victoria has been maturing into a beautiful young woman with flowing hair as dark as midnight and beautiful porcelain-like skin with nary a freckle on her save just her nose and cheeks. She's doing very well in school, and aside from the Sinful Seven, Victoria gets along exceptionally with the other children. But her and Lusa; there's a matchup of personalities obviously designed in Heaven.

  I recall a number of evenings when there was rain and thundershowers. Tom had insisted on Lusa staying outside. His argument was that she is a dog well suited for winter and colder conditions and that she would be fine outside, which was all quite true, but the bond of friendship between Victoria and Lusa was well underestimated. Though Lusa was well suited for the adverse conditions, it was mutually felt between Lusa and Victoria that she should be by Victoria’s side during the storm. On more than one occasion, if Victoria was unable to sneak to the back door to let Lusa in, I would make sure she found her way in quietly and to Victoria’s bedroom. Though the wet and often muddy paw prints usually gave the two of them away, Victoria was always more than happy to accept her punishment of cleaning up the mess because Lusa had been by her side all night nonetheless. Typically, as Victoria would be receiving her three swats on her tender hind end for getting into trouble — an incredibly tame punishment considering what we know others have endured — I would be standing with Lusa scratching her behind her ears and comforting her until Victoria and Tom were finished with the unpleasantries.

  I have found an unusual peace in being able to carry on with Lusa as I have. Ever since the birthday party when she heard my cry of cautioning she has paid me a respectful manner and demeanor I’ve not known previously.

  Sometimes, because of the kindness and sincerity of those Victoria is surrounded by, we find it an odd sensation within the book, after so many centuries of being surrounded by the sins, torments, and willingness to cause harm by so many to so many more. I wish I knew better the words to use here to properly express the feelings we’re going through. More and more I’m feeling perhaps it would be better if Victoria were to simply grow old and pass away peacefully without ever having known that this book is by her side and at her disposal. Perhaps if she is true to herself in her endeavors in life she will have no difficulty in passing on to Heaven. Though unsure of what would happen if the book were to follow her there. Perhaps the Book of the Damned would be discovered by the Angels and destroyed, thus breaking the legacy? Victoria hasn't yet taken possession of the book, let alone acknowledged its existence. It could be that because she's corporeal she doesn't even know we’re here, which could be good for her in the long run.

  Perhaps. Maybe. Who the fuck knows?!

  What if, for a time, we simply step back from Victoria’s life and are nothing more than spectators of the game that plays out over her time here? Lusa knows we’re here and she pays no ill feelings to us despite the fact that this book was created out of suffering and sin. It’s a pleasant feeling to watch her and Victoria grow and live together. We even have the pleasure of being able to feel, pet and scratch little Lusa, which is one of those simple pleasures, like writing in this journal, which we have come to enjoy and cherish doing.

  Victoria is already far ahead of the other children in intelligence and demeanor because of all the extra tutoring we have done with her during her sleep. For at least the span of her life we may have a respite from the purpose we became so accustomed to in Hell. Perhaps this is a time of rest, not participation, and not interference, but just rest, temporary as it may be for these wicked souls. This pattern of birthdays and schooling and play and getting into little troubles and sleeping and doing it all over again … This all seems to be our norm now.

  Chapter Three

  ~

  Innocence Lost

  Journal entry XVI

  Six more years of “normal” since I last wrote. Six years of school, growing, playing new games, the occasional trouble started by Johnny and his little ass-hats. Lusa has always been there though, except during school hours. Victoria became pretty savvy to keeping tight to her studies and tight with the teachers of her classes. Rarely has Johnny and his minion had the patience to hang around while Victoria was working on extra credit papers. She became a teacher’s pet, and when she left school, once off the bus, it’s just a short walk to the railroad tracks where Lusa sits patiently awaiting Victoria’s return and the walk home.

  Occasionally the Johnny squad would hurl empty threats at Lusa; faux charges as if they were going to attack her, that sort of childish crap. Lusa always stood her ground, and being large for a female of her breed, typically it was the Johnny squad who backed off and kept walking.

  Once home it’s time for whatever homework Vic didn’t finish in school — yes, I curtailed her name. Typically Vic’s done in fifteen minutes or so, and then dinner time, and then a little television with desert before bed at nine. For six years …

  For six years …

  Those fucking little bastards!

  SIX YEARS! And they still have nothing better to do with their time?!

  I’ve stood aside nearly silent for six years hoping nothing extreme would come to Victoria and Lusa at the hands of those little grub-fuckers! Because Lusa knows of me I’ve always been able to warn her and get the upper hand on their bullshit antics.

  Victoria is barely into the first half of her eighth year of schooling, and that pack of hyenas Johnny heads up has gone far beyond the realm of just meanness.

  This fine Tuesday morning, in the middle of strangely brisk Autumn, Vic left to walk to the school bus stop. Lusa, as always, walked as far as the railroad tracks. This is simply because she could still see the house from that point and we never wanted her getting lost by accident. Admittedly, I simply didn’t want anything to happen which might take the two of them from one another. Usually at this time Vic would stop to kiss Lusa on her fuzzy lips and tell her she’d be home after a while, but this time, when Vic turned to Lusa she also saw the Sinful Seven, who had come up behind us, and her reaction caused alarm in Lusa who instinctively turned as well.

  Usually, almost every morning anyway, Johnny and his pack are ahead of us and well on their way to the bus stop. I noticed they weren’t up there this morning, but I didn’t take the time to ask myself why, and I wasn’t able to smell the sin boiling over in the minds of those seven little condom survivors! I should’v
e been able to smell them even if I were upwind from them. Those shits should’ve been torn from their mother’s bellies and left to be eaten by the worms and maggots. They unwittingly outsmarted me and I had become too complacent to notice anything was out of the ordinary.

  We had passed some large trees and shrubs the little hellions had hidden behind until after we walked by. When I turned to give Lusa my usual wave I noticed Johnny and his minion emerging from their hiding places and closing on us quickly. Lusa spun around after seeing the look on Victoria’s face. Lusa’s response was one of immediate defense as she took a stance and for the first time bared her teeth as she also obviously sensed the intentions of these children.

  Malamutes have to be taught how to bark as it’s not innate to their breed, but they don’t have to be taught growl with ferocity, and Lusa sensed she needed all of hers.

  Johnny and his friends started yelling to Victoria mean and spiteful phrases I won’t bother wasting ink on in this journal. I will simply say it was painfully obvious these seven were mirroring the jealousies and insecurities of their parents and bluntly expressing these thoughts and feelings with no knowledge of the truths they were so obviously blind to. It is so simple to see how children like these grow up to be bigots, abusers, users and anything else which amounts to so much less than the potential planted within them. Unfortunately on this day, these seven were out to take those traits to their extreme, and no adults were present to say otherwise.

  Vic was on the verge of yelling a cautionary word about how they were upsetting Lusa when Tim threw a stone he was concealing and it struck Victoria on the forehead. She fell to the ground. Except for Lusa we were helpless. I have never been in this position before. In Hell whoever I was in service to would simply call upon his or her collected souls and demon-allies to ward off possible attackers, but here we had no such means of defense.

  Lusa made a short charge away from us and pulled their attention from Victoria. The little bastards had stuffed the pockets of their jackets with rocks and they were throwing them at Lusa as hard as they could while laughing the whole time. At first she took the hits in good stride and dodged several of the rocks successfully, until Tim threw a larger one which hit her squarely in the haunch; the pain instantly slowed her maneuvers dramatically. She was now unable to hold in her yelps and no one who could help was around to hear her cry out.

  The rock throwing was driving Lusa back towards the tracks where I noticed one of the morning trains was off in the distance and closing in on this crossing. I yelled to Lusa to run across the tracks to avoid the train, but the tracks are where she was taught to stop. She wouldn’t cross. She tried moving closer to us but the kids were refilling their fists with rocks faster than Lusa was able to fend against.

  It was seven of them mercilessly against just poor Lusa. Blood was pouring out from under her black and white fur. She was limping and straining as a rock hit her in the mouth and shattered one of her canines. The train was closing and we finally had an idea which might help Lusa, futile as it seemed. We could touch Vic but to no avail since she had never touched the book and taken claim of it. We could yell to Lusa but she was stubborn and working so hard to keep the punishment away from Victoria. We figured that since we had become strong enough to manipulate something small like this journal and the pen we scribe with, perhaps we could also block the rocks being thrown.

  Quickly we threw ourselves between the children and Lusa. The rocks seemed to be moving so much faster when seeing them come at us head-on. We moved at first as a mortal would move trying to catch or deflect as many stones as possible with four limbs and a torso. This was nothing like sitting comfortably in a rocking chair in the silence of night and being able to concentrate on just two small items. We were able to move quickly enough to get in front of many of the stones, but we could only manage slowing down a few, and we didn't stop any of them.

  Deep within our thoughts we wanted to be able to get in front of more of the rocks, and as such our human-ish form reacted. Strings of pages lashed out from this form and was able to get in front of yet more of the stones, but this proved even more futile as these actions were only further splitting up the concentration we needed to even just slow one stone.

  Victoria was barely half conscious when the pain from the stones was pushing Lusa onto the tracks. Johnny and the others were laughing it up as Lusa’s yelps were becoming garbled with blood and open sores were accumulating all over her. She had even “turned the other cheek,” so-to-speak, by turning her whole body to the side that had not yet been pelted with rocks, and she continued to take their punishment.

  Victoria regained most of her consciousness just as the railroad barriers swung down …

  … The train whistle blared …

  … Those hideous little creatures continued to throw rocks at Lusa …

  … The railroad warning bells rang out seemingly slowed in time …

  … We stopped trying to block rocks and through one concerted effort into pulling Lusa back to our side of the tracks. We caught her paw, but too late …

  … Lusa stared at Victoria as the train put Lusa out of her misery.

  Lusa’s blood sprayed Victoria as she lay there on the worn asphalt. I could feel her emotions cry out. In shock all she could do was stare in anger, defiance and complete misery over what Johnny and the others had just done.

  The Sinful Seven simply stared for a moment until Johnny began to laugh a somewhat forced and exaggerated laugh. The others were at first puzzled by his reaction, and then he said the words which twisted the emotional knife running through Victoria’s heart.

  “That dog of yours was so stupid she didn’t even know to get out of the way when the train was coming!” No. She was trying to do what she was taught to do. Even from the tracks she could see Victoria. She could see home.

  The Sinful Seven all walked away casually laughing and giving smiling stares over their shoulders. Vic just sat there on the dirty asphalt, covered in Lusa’s blood and staring into nowhere.

  What could I do or say? Was there something more I could've done to help but I didn’t think of it in time? With all the knowledge this form contains, with all the tortures, transgressions and evils we have seen and known, what else was there I could to do for this little girl and her best friend? I just don’t know. None of us really seemed to know.

  Being the small town this is the town sheriff was on the scene as soon as it was discovered Victoria and the others were not at school. Vic puzzled me infinitely when the officer asked her about her account of what happened. She never said a single word about Johnny or the others. Nothing. Immediately I approached her and thrust my hand into her mind. The anger and defiance of her emotions were like bricks of a wall. I found myself realizing the day of her getting the upper hand on these immature bullies was finally here. Hell hath no fury as the wrath of a child scorned who knows not the meaning limitations.

  For most of her young life I’ve watched the Sinful Seven torture this girl and she has come through every bit of it with her own small emotional bumps and bruises, but she always continued without so much as whimpering, whining, or crying. Vic is not simply going to continue past this act staged and played out by those little beasts without remuneration.

  I wonder what she intends to do…

  Journal entry XVII

  It is now very late on Tuesday night. May even be Wednesday morning now, I’m not sure.

  Victoria surprised me this evening more than I could ever imagine being surprised after the events of the day. She said my name — MY name — “Azeeza.” With just the potentiality of what it means for her to say my name, I’ve severely underestimated this girl, and perhaps now with the onset of her pubescent years I should be reconsidering her potential as the one I serve.

  We were sitting quietly in her room. The small-town sheriff, the small-town neighbors, and their small-town children had all left after giving their condolences over the loss of Lusa and Vic’s “accidental
” head injury. None of it was good enough for Victoria or us. There was even an emotional upheaval within the book, but no one was sure what to do with it, so nothing was done. We were all sure the Sinful Seven would get away with this, especially since Victoria stayed so tight-lipped about the entire ordeal. Then she asked the question we had become sure we would never hear …

  “Azeeza, are you here?”

  I shot up from the rocking chair so quickly that it slammed against the wall behind it. She looked towards the chair surprised, but also as if she already knew we were there.

  “We are here, young one …,” I answered simply, but she seemed unable to hear us. Vic’s head lowered, her eyes closed, and tears began to roll down her face. We moved closer unsure how to react but wanting to comfort her. We placed a hand gently on the back of her head and she abruptly stood up from her bed.

  “I know you’re here, Azeeza!” she exclaimed.

  “But of course…,” we realized she could feel and possibly hear us though only through her mind’s deepest recesses, so we could best speak to her through her subconscious.

  SON OF A BITCH!!! WHY HAVE WE NEVER THOUGHT OF THIS?! She’s mortal. A mortal’s soul must only be aware of us in the subconscious; where everything is available to the mind, but is too much to ever contain in a flesh and blood form. This is how she knows my name; the evening sessions! She must've heard my name during those evenings when we've been giving her glimpses into the many histories of those within.