#i've been getting more comfortable w writing about religion/religious worship/lack of religion!!! so

[satoruvt]

black swan

i wrote a short story for my english class and i felt really proud of it so i’m gonna post it here :-) hope yall like it, i do very much

word count → 2179

summary → “Because you are a sinner,” he spits at me. The ground is suddenly hot with anger and when I look down at my feet I see scorched earth. “And sinners go to Hell.”

warnings → lots of talk about religion, pg-13 ish at the beginning? lol, bro idk shit gets intense

“Go,” Leo tells me. I try to move closer to him, smile playing on my lips as they try to connect with his again, but he pushes me gently. I thread my fingers through his hair, letting the color burn in my mind. I hope it stays like that forever. I can recognize his golden hair anywhere. “Eden, you must leave. Your curfew is almost upon us.”

I huff, feigning annoyance at his denial, as I take my pocket watch out of my coat. As much as I want to stay, Leo’s right - it is almost time for me to depart, and if I’m not home when Mother does her nightly rounds I’ll have chores for the next fortnight. Leo pushes his fingers into my short hair, straightening it back to what it resembled before our encounter. I can’t help but stare at him as he does, and once he catches me he grins, savage and bright.

“Go, my love,” he tells me, taking my hand and placing a kiss to my knuckles. I part with a flushed smile, turning around to my own home. I don’t have to hurry if I don’t wish to; my home is only a few houses down from Leo’s, but I do so anyways, not willing to risk the chance of Mother finding my room empty.

It doesn’t take long for me to get home, nor does it take very long for me to open my room’s only window and haul myself inside, closing it gently behind me. Right as the window clicks shut, a knock on my door resounds, startling me. I grab the nearest thing - a pencil, and, then, an already-drawn-on paper - and pretend that I’ve been in my room for the last hour, drawing away. 

“Eden,” my mother’s voice calls from outside the door. “May I come in?”

Before I have a chance to answer, she’s opening the door and moving into the room gracefully. I barely hear her footsteps as she adjusts to close the door behind her and then move across the room to my bed, sitting on the edge. Mother sends me a specific glance and I put down my props before sitting next to her.

“Has something happened?” I ask.

“Oh, yes,” Mother responds, and her fingers clench into fists on her lap. “Dear Eden, something has happened. Something to do with you.”

I feel my heart sink to my toes, swirl through my bloodstream as if caught in a current. I try not to let my panic show, instead clearing my throat and looking at my mother. “What is it?”

Mother sighs, and when she looks me in the eyes I know that we both know what she could possibly be referencing. “You’re friends with the Wilson’s son down the street, yes?”

Leo.

I nod.

“And you are… just friends with this boy?”

My heart lurches from my feet to my throat and I choke on my own breath, staring at my mother wide-eyed. There’s no way that she knows, right? It can’t be, no. I try to cover up my surprise but it seems I hold it too long, for it’s enough for Mother to let out a broken wail as she falls onto me.

“Oh, my son,” she cries into me. I feel my own tears well to my eyes at the knowledge that she is crying. “What have you done?”

Her words hurt me, an arrow straight into my chest. “Nothing, mama,” I murmur over her quieting sobs. “I’m still me. I’m still your son. Please, mama.”

Mother sits up and tears fall down her cheeks like gentle streams. She doesn’t look hateful, like most - if not everyone - would. Her palm cups my face and I sigh, leaning into her touch.

“I know you are,” she whispers. “I know, and I love you.”

It’s now that I feel my own tears slip down my face - never had I intended to tell her; I only imagined that one day I would leave and live in a place where I could find others like me, and keep up this facade when I came home for visits. I was content with the idea, but this seems so much better. I lean forward and hug Mother, holding her tight in my arms, and she reciprocates my embrace immediately.

“You know that I am no liar,” she tells me when she pulls away. Her hands still rest at my elbows. “And I cannot lie to your father about this.”

My response is immediate. My father is not as forgiving as my mother, and if what she says is true (it always tends to be) then I have no hope to be accepted in my own home. “What should I do?”

“I don’t know,” she answers truthfully. “The best option is for you to not be here when I tell him.”

“And when is that?”

“Tonight, I assume. When he gets home in an hour.”

An hour is not much time. I don’t ask her how long I should be gone, because both of us know the answer. We sit in silence for another moment before I speak again, my hands still gripping her fingers like I did when I was a child. “I suppose I should pack my things.”

Mother nods, but doesn’t let go of my hands until I move away to reach my pack. It isn’t large, but it should be enough to carry a few articles of clothing and a small amount of food. I get packed quickly, and my mother still sits on my bed. We walk to the door in silence, and it’s when she opens it for me that we speak.

“I love you, my son,” she tells me wistfully. “And I am so sorry.”

I know she is, but I tell her it’s alright. I’m not angry at her, nor my father, nor anyone except for myself. I see my father’s horse come into view, him on top of it, and slink into the night, running towards the forest nearby in the dark. In retrospect, I know it isn’t the best decision, but I have nowhere else to go. I don’t stop to say good-bye to Leo, and I don’t stop running until I am deep in the forest. I find a sturdy tree trunk under large bushes, sit down, and sleep restlessly through the night.

When I wake, there is a man standing over me.

He doesn’t flinch when I wake up, opening my eyes to stare at him. He stares back, unphased, and when I move, he moves. He seems fascinated with me. I sit up straight and he takes a few steps back. His hair is dark, and so are his eyes. His skin is beautifully golden, and his face seems like one that never ages. Neither of us speak for a moment until I do.

“What do you want?”

The man smiles and I feel my body tense. It is not a good smile - joyous as a smile could be, but there’s more to it. Something cruel. Something sinister. “Nothing big,” he replies, and I pull my bag out from behind me, confused as to why he hadn’t just taken my things before I woke up. How long had he been looking at me?

“I only have a small sum of food,” I say, taking said items out of my bag, then my spare clothing. “And clothes.”

“Oh, I don’t want any of that,” the man says. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to rob you of your belongings.”

“I see,” my breath rises up in the cold morning air. “Then might I ask who you are and what you do want?”

The man smiles again, but this time it’s worse; wider. He’s a few feet in front of me, and I still see his sharp canines. “We’re going to be the best of friends, you and I,” he tells me. I don’t believe him. “Please, call me Shen, young one. I understand your name is Eden? Yes. ‘Eden and Shen’ - doesn’t it sound wonderful?”

The man - Shen, now - offers his hand towards me to help me up. I gaze at it unsteadily, and for the first time I see him falter. I ask instead, “how do you know my name?”

“It’s a long story,” he answers automatically. “Take a walk with me. I’ll tell you.”

“No… I’ll stay right here,” I say. My blood starts to pump as I make up a lie. “Actually, I have a friend coming to meet me. He should be here soon.”

Shen chuckles. It sends shivers down my spine. “No one is coming for you.”

I could easily have denied it, said that he was wrong - it is my word against his - but I was blessed with my mother’s inability to lie well, and I don’t try to cover up my mistake. Shen, however, seems impatient now. I’m stalling and he knows that I am, but I don’t know for what. No one is coming back, and if I ran back home I know my family would close the door in my face.

“I say we make the long story short.” Shen says. He looks different, but I don’t know how. He’s darker, almost, like the aura surrounding him has fallen into something hellish. “I’m getting impatient, and I am here for one thing, and I will get it through all necessary means. I need your soul.”

His words shock me, and for a moment I think he’s crazy. Completely and utterly insane, someone who thinks he can take mortal souls, but when I let out a humorless laugh, he shows no sign of playing along. He is serious. 

“Why do you need my soul?” I ask. I don’t believe that he’s truthful, but there’s something wrong. I hesitate.

“Because you are a sinner,” he spits at me. The ground is suddenly hot with anger and when I look down at my feet I see scorched earth. “And sinners go to Hell.”

I’m still reeling with the sight in front of me, of red skies and burned trees and charred animals all around me. It smells like heavy smoke and it burns my lungs. The black trees warp around me in a cage, moving like cruel, clawed fingers, and this is too real. Shen must be a witch. His eyes are red, now, when I look at them, and I realize he is not human.

“You ruined yourself with lies and men,” Shen starts to speak. I dodge the trees aiming for me, scrambling to my feet like a scared cat, and as he speaks the earth itself starts to move, shaking under my unsteady legs. “My dear Eden, you were born to be like me, like our Dark Lord.”

“No,” I counter weakly. My voice is barely heard over the rumbling of the ground as it splits in half. “No, I am pure, I am no sinner -”

“How ironic that your name comes from blessed lands yet you yourself are no more than another liar amongst pure men.” Shen’s voice is demonic and wild, and I can’t think of anything to do but cover my ears. It does nothing to stop the sound of his voice from leaking into my head. I feel like I am boiling from the inside out. I did nothing wrong, I did nothing wrong, I did nothing wrong! “I can’t wait to see you rot.”

Before I properly know what I’m doing, I’m grabbing the biggest rock I can carry and running towards Shen with a battle cry on my lips. My heart is restless, but it stops when I see him grin - in the second before the rock meets his head, he looks so cruel, yet so familiar. The same dark hair, but his face is more boyish. I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t have time to think before I throw the rock onto his skull with all the strength I can muster.

I blink and the land returns to normal.

It’s green again, covered in lush forestry and a silent mist. My heart is still pounding, but I no longer feel hot. Everything is as it was; did I hallucinate the entire ordeal? I’ve been out in the forest for too long, even if it’s only been one night. The repetitiveness of the trees makes my head ache with the need to leave. I calm my breathing, then turn in my spot to find my pack.

When I turn, there’s something laying on the ground, beneath the foliage. The leaves around it are stained red with blood. I see a hand, then a full arm. There’s a body. 

I move closer, thoroughly concerned, and then I see a rock - the rock I had thrown - off a few feet. Panic shoots through me at the idea that I hurt someone in my crazed frenzy, and then I take a closer look at the face of the man I hurt.

I could recognize his golden hair anywhere.