The Desire: Class of 666

by Jon Jacks

  ‘Well, of course,’ she replies sweetly, smiling benignly, ‘I am the Desire.’

  *

  Chapter 28

  So many people tell you: desire is wrong

  It leads to problems

  To conflict

  And that is why desire is denied: why it is almost regarded as a sin

  Yet what would the world be like without desire?

  What is it that endlessly inspires us to attain our goals but desire?

  What would ever be achieved without their first being the desire?

  The Desire

  ‘Desire?’

  ‘The Desire. There’s a difference.’

  ‘There is?’

  ‘Don’t you talk of the Devil? Well, I am the Desire.’

  ‘You’re like the Devil?’

  ‘See? You said the Devil. And no, of course I’m not the Devil! Otherwise, I would have introduced myself as the Devil, wouldn’t I?’

  She glances about herself at the surrounding people, frowns in either disappointment or irritation.

  ‘Though I can forgive you for not recognising me. I had noticed no one here came as me: how soon I have been forgotten, how long ignored – how long repressed.’

  ‘But those people in…in your book: they’re trapped there? They’re dead?’

  She shakes her head. Smiles at me this time like I’m some silly child who can’t understand even the simplest things.

  ‘Didn’t everyone think you were dead only a few minutes ago?’

  ‘Did they? I thought…thought that weird queen was just a little mistaken.’

  ‘Well, obviously, she was. Because here you are!’

  ‘How did they end up in your book? Can they escape?’

  ‘Do you really think they should? Haven’t they achieved what they most desired? One became the most wonderful detective. The other the most perfectly beautiful angel.’

  ‘I’m quite sure they can’t have desired that!’

  ‘Are you sure? Quite sure I mean? For instance, what do you most desire? If you can’t work that out, then I’m quite sure you can’t work out what they would have desired.’

  I can’t help but smirk triumphantly.

  ‘I know what I desire – or rather, who I desire.’

  ‘Ah yes: this Paul, yes?’

  ‘You know?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

  Despite everything I have seen her accomplish so far, I still doubt this. She either notes the scepticism on my face or senses it.

  ‘Don’t you think I would be aware of your longings for this boy? There is no perfume so heady, so intoxicating, so changeable. Nothing feels so incredibly exciting to touch, to embrace, to kiss. Nothing tastes so indescribably bewitching, so filling; yet always leaves you hungry for more. Nothing excites you more than to hear his whisperings of love, appreciations of pleasure, longings for more – and the increasing swish of movement between you.’

  I blush. Her eyes light up with knowing amusement.

  ‘How can someone so wonderful cause such agonies of longing? His words, his touch, his kiss, his taste, his perfume? And the more you have of him, the more you flatter yourself that he is all yours, the more of him you need. Such longing can never be satisfied.’

  ‘You could say this of any girl’s love for a boy.’

  ‘Does that make it any less real for you, any less specific to you? What have you told yourself you would you do for the one you desire? You would move mountains, a river, even the very seas themselves if it were necessary.’

  ‘All of which would be impossible, naturally,’ I snort, even though, on the occasions when we’ve broken up, and I’ve lain in bed feeling sorry for myself, I’ve told myself I would be prepared to accomplish even more impractical things to win him back.

  ‘But you don’t need to do any of these things,’ she continues, unflustered. ‘All you need to do is to move the one you desire. Then he will move towards you.’

  ‘I thought I was here to help you!’ I protest in irritation. ‘But it seems you’re just here to lecture me?’

  ‘Perhaps you simply flattered yourself that I required your help, yes? You’re being kind, you’re being selfless, you think; yet you’re simply placing too much importance upon yourself. And you know the problem with self-importance? It ensures you spend your life being offended by someone or something.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous! You’re saying no one should ever help anyone?’

  ‘Did I say that? You know, I don’t think I did.’

  She looked worriedly about herself. Pulling up her long, voluminous skirts a little, she whirled around. She began to once more make her way through the couples still slowly yet eagerly making love.

  ‘Come; we must keep on the move. He will be here soon.’

  ‘He?’ I quickly followed after her, glancing at the book I still firmly held in my hand. ‘The man in the book? He is chasing you?’

  ‘No!’ She said it dismissively, as if such a thing would be unthinkable, impossible. ‘But he will be here; so we must use our time wisely!’

  ‘There are still so many things I don’t understand, I–’

  ‘Of course you don’t understand! That’s why I’m here!’

  The walls to the room no longer seemed to exist. We were walking through an endless throng of thrashing couples.

  ‘In your favour,’ she continued before I could protest, ‘unlike so many here, you at least had recognised your desires. As opposed to foolishly attempting to constrain them: such repression, of course, can only result in a festering of your desires. They will find their release, their outlet, in some way you’re no longer aware of. Denying desire is an indulgence; you congratulate yourself that you’re a better person for denying yourself what you want. It’s only another form of desire, one wrapped up in yourself. You’re imprisoning yourself within yourself.’

  ‘Then…then I did the right thing?’ I’m breathless.’ She seemed to be moving only languidly, yet I was having to jog to keep up with her. ‘My love – my desire – for Paul, I mean.’

  ‘Unfortunately, although you acknowledged your desire, you embraced it in your own particularly naive and self-destructive way.’

  She’s briefly distracted, her gaze slipping sideways, then across to another part of the melee of lovers. Following her glances, I spot the incredibly detailed statue of a ridge-backed alien that had first drawn her attention. A little beyond that, there’s an equally accomplished statue of an entwined, otherworldy couple. Their faces look up, frozen in shock, as if caught unawares.

  The Desire’s eyes narrow in bemusement. Then, almost instantly, they blaze in anger, perhaps even fear.

  Around us now, talons aren’t just provocatively scratching but tearing and riving. Teeth are no longer seductively nibbling, they’re biting, literally tasting, chewing. A Pharaoh cowers as a fully transformed, mischievously laughing siren shreds and devours him piece by piece.

  ‘What’s happening?’ I shriek. ‘Is all this down to you as well?’

  She turns, shakes her head, takes my hand.

  No, no!’ She has to shout, for everything around us is no longer taking place quietly, or even slowly. ‘We have to run! He’s here!’

  *

  Chapter 29

  If you think of yourself as an entrapped soul

  It is every bit as limiting as believing you are nothing but body

  The Desire

  ‘Where are we running to?’

  I have to ask, because we don’t seem to be getting anywhere. The walls to the room have returned. Worse, no matter how fast we run, we constantly find ourselves back at the end of the room we’d first started from.

  ‘Nowhere!’ she cries back gaily.

  ‘Nowhere? Then why run?’

  ‘Why not?’ she grins happily. ‘He’ll find us, no matter where we run. But this will delay his finding us, a little.’ She turns to me, her grin even wilder, her hair streaming behind her as if in a sharp wind. ‘Besid
es, it’s fun, don’t you think; running?’

  ‘By he, you mean the man from the book?’

  ‘The man from the book!’ She chuckles. ‘I’m not sure he’d like that description!’

  The mayhem and madness surrounding us has become worse. Creatures are mingled in the throes of both desire and death, the moves in some cases hardly distinguishable, a coupling transforming from one to the other in the blink of an eye.

  Medusa glowers at what should be her last petrifying victim, an almost invisible Predator taking off her head from behind. A few more foolish observers are frozen into statues as they watch her toppling, still-glaring head roll across the floor.

  ‘Can’t we stop this?’ I wail.

  ‘Can you?’

  ‘Me? Of course I can’t! I meant you! Can’t you?’

  ‘Oh,’ she replies innocently. ‘It’s just that, when you said we, I thought, maybe – you know, I was hoping you might be able to do something.’

  She’s looking my way, beaming cheerfully.

  ‘This isn’t funny!’ I snap. ‘People are dying!’

  ‘Well, don’t they all; someday, I mean?’

  I glare at her, wishing my look could turn her into stone.

  She gives me an apologetic shrug.

  ‘Sorry. When you’ve been cooped up as long as I have, well – you’ve got to learn to make your own fun, haven’t you?’

  She starts, as if suddenly spotting something else in the crowd. Urgently touching my arm, she nods in the direction she wants me to look.

  ‘Oh look! Isn’t that Paul?’ she trills joyfully.

  I look.

  It is Paul.

  A terrified Paul.

  Locked in the unmovable arms of a salivating, demonic woman who’s about to tear out his throat.

  *

  Chapter 30

  Our internal doubts don’t just dictate our view of the world, but ultimately the very world itself

  When we are angry, our anger grows, for the whole world seems angry and set against us

  When we are happy, we have more chance of making those around us happy

  The changes we make within ourselves change the world we believe lies outside us

  The Desire

  ‘Please, please!’ I beg the Desire. ‘You must be able to do something!’

  ‘Oh, okay then,’ she says miserably.

  She doesn’t wave an arm, even say anything. But everyone around us instantly freezes, caught in a split moment of time.

  ‘That’s it?’ I’m amazed, aghast, furious, at how easily she’s managed to bring everything to a halt. ‘You could do this all along? And you didn’t?’

  ‘As I said, we had to run. This way, he’ll find us so much quicker.’

  ‘Let him find us then.’

  I’m past caring what happens to her, having seen what she’s like, her callousness.

  I draw closer towards Paul. His mouth is wide, gawping in terror. His eyes bulbous, as if about to explode, incapable of believing what is taking place before them. His arms are raised, defensive – but ultimately useless.

  The woman, on the other hand, is quite magnificent in every way. She’s exotically beautiful, her hair so long and flowing it’s like the most wonderful dress in its own right. Even contorted in her thirst for blood, her face is perfect, but for a mouth about to open and reveal the dog-like teeth that will rip apart Paul’s throat.

  Even if Paul had the strength to break out of her entwining arms, he couldn’t hope to break free of the coiling serpents that seem to sprout from her waist. These serpents curl about them both like a rapidly spreading ivy. Only the woman’s vast wings spread completely clear of these twisting, slithering snakes.

  The Desire observes Paul’s predicament with amused interest.

  ‘You sure you want me to freeze it like this?’ she asks doubtfully. ‘I mean, he is with another girl – well, if you could call it a girl.’

  ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

  ‘But it’s such perfect retribution, don’t you think? We can watch as his bloo–’

  ‘Stop, stop! I don’t want to hear, thank you! Yes, yes; keep it all frozen!’

  She sighs, looking at Paul once again like she’s regretting postponing his demise.

  ‘You sure? I mean – he’s caused you an awful lot of hurt in his time, hasn’t he? It would be quick; almost painless, maybe, too?’

  The way she’s elatedly taking in how close the woman’s teeth are to Paul’s throat, I doubt that she believes for a moment that it will be either quick or painless.

  ‘I’m sure.’

  I was about to reply to her query with a ‘Yes’, but realised I couldn’t really trust her not to twist that answer into a ‘Yes’ for letting Paul’s suffering continue. By the time I’d realised my mistake, it would have been too late for Paul.

  ‘He has been awful to me,’ I admit. ‘But I couldn’t let him suffer that!’

  ‘Pity.’

  ‘Yes, pity is what I’m displaying, thanks.’

  She peers at the entwined couple curiously.

  ‘He certainly knows how to pick ’em, doesn’t he? A Fury I mean: not you.’

  ‘Ah, that’s what she is, is she? A Fury? Well, Paul’s certainly made a lot of girls furious in his time.’

  ‘See what I mean?’ the Desire said brightly, warming to her theme. ‘It would be nicely ironic wouldn’t it: letting him die like this?’

  I shake my head.

  She sighs in disappointment.

  ‘Is this really because you pity him? Or because you pity yourself? Do you fear losing him?’

  ‘Of course it’s not just because I fear losing him! I fear seeing him get killed!’

  ‘So…if you don’t fear losing him, why did you allow him to change you so much?’

  She nonchalantly flicks my long, dark hair. The hair I’d had styled the way Paul had asked me to have it styled.

  Because he preferred it that way.

  ‘They were only small changes!’ I retort defensively.

  ‘Small changes? Constantly feeling insecure? Not good enough for him? You’re not really sure who you are anymore, are you?’

  ‘Well…I’m me of course!’

  ‘Me being?’

  ‘What sort of question is that?’

  ‘A very important one, I think.’

  ‘But isn’t that your role? Spreading desire?’

  ‘Fearing losing someone is hardly desire. That’s placing your happiness in someone else’s hands. What right has he to say who you are? He’s so busy telling you who you are, he hasn’t really worked out who he is yet.’

  The Fury’s eyes still seem curiously alive, strangely aware. Her lips, too, I imagine, are curling back slightly, as if she’s in readiness to strike.

  ‘You desire love; but is that really what you’re receiving? Asking for love is asking for the energy of the soul. You don’t prey upon someone whose wellbeing is in your heart. What do you give him? Concern, genuine concern. Don’t you have the right to desire the same in return?’

  ‘I’ve forgiven him.’

  ‘Have you? So you can honestly declare that there has never, ever been a flare up of resentment? We may fool ourselves that our more charitable side has forgiven, but how often are we merely refusing to recognise our supposedly suppressed – and yet ultimately stronger – vindictive side?’

  Suddenly, the Fury lunges forwards, her teeth fully bared. She snaps at Paul’s bared throat.

  Paul’s scream is cut short. He slumps into the maze of writhing serpents.

  There’s no blood: the Fury drinks it all, hungrily.

  Then, thankfully, they are both stilled once more.

  ‘No no!’ I gasp, horrified. ‘You let him die!’

  ‘No, no; not me!’ the Desire blithely insists.

  ‘No, not her.’

  The voice, coming from behind me, is warm, calm. Male.

  I turn around.

  The man
purposely striding towards us glows with the brightest, whitest light. His wings are immense, glittering as if made from the stars.

  ‘An angel!’

  I’m in awe, in a daze. Nothing seems real to me anymore. I’m lost in the perfect beauty of the oncoming angel, lost in the emanation of power, of the expansion of spirit, of soul.

  Alongside me, the Desire smiles awkwardly, says;

  ‘A very particular angel, I’m afraid.’

  *

  Chapter 31

  When you place your self-worth in another’s hands

  You have no power

  Even if you win everything

  The Desire

  ‘Afraid? You’re never afraid?’ the oncoming angel says.

  The Desire ignores him. She glances down and back towards Paul, slipping an arm around my shoulder to prevent me from looking the same way.

  ‘Such a shame he didn’t come as a Terminator robot after all!’

  Although neither I nor the Desire are walking, along with the angel we both swiftly slide away from the surrounding scene. Within a split second, we appear elsewhere amongst the thankfully stilled, yet still murderous crowd.

  No one, however, looks angrier than the approaching angel.

  ‘I…I think he’s going to kill us!’ I stammer.

  Letting go of my shoulder, the Desire steps away from me and towards the angel

  ‘My darling! I wondered when you’d find me!’

  Reaching for each other, they embrace, instantly becoming once more the enamoured lovers I’d originally taken them to be. They kiss, unhurriedly, hungrily.

  Parting at last, they still remain close, keeping hold of each other’s hands.

  The angel looks about him, taking in the continuing chaos with a wry frown.

  ‘I think it’s time to leave.’

  ‘Surely you can’t blame me for all this?’ the Desire playfully admonishes him.

  ‘How else was I supposed to follow you here?’

  ‘I wasn’t causing so much harm. Your route here, as always, is so much more brutal!’

  She glances my way, offering a lamentful explanation.

  ‘He lives through the death of others. It’s far more destructive than drawing on all that wonderfully latent desire I detected here, don’t you think?’

  The angel’s gaze alights on the book I’m holding.

  ‘Not the best place to bring such a book.’

  ‘I wasn’t to know.’