The Foul Smell of Whores (continuation)

The body of this devil slumped to the side of the pole she was tied to. Her knees were as cragged as the trees near her home, and her toes were not toes, but talons that came to a sharpened point. It was a common thing to smell burning flesh; the smell cascaded across the land and could be smelled for miles. Most of the children spoke of a hog roast, and out of innocence, they stuck their noses into the air to enjoy the aroma of what was mistaken for pork. The parents knew better but refused to ruin the illusion of innocence. At one point, they filled those tiny shoes and listened to the same orations of generations before them.

"Pull it down; we mustn't let this foul demon hang as a spectacle."

I could not move, though my companions rushed to pull it down. They bumped my shoulders as my body slunk further into the background of the scene. I assumed that her body was still hot to the touch; the men struggled to get a firm grasp on her, and even if they did manage a good grip, the remaining flesh slipped away like a loose glove. It was difficult for me to watch--I must admit, but I had managed thus far and became addicted to the sights, smells, and pungent stench of death.

"Hey, there is something that stirs beneath the bones!"

My wanton eyes made their way towards the man's hands.

"Do not be fooled by such! Purge yourself of curiosity and leave it alone."

I made my way further into the shadow of darkness. It seemed the appropriate thing to do, given something stirred violently inside my gut. My father once told me that little people lived deep inside us and rung the bells as warnings. The nausea we felt was their warning as to danger. It had long since passed the days of running through green forests and listening to tales of witches, goblins, and trolls; however, the bells I once heard deep inside were now screaming inside my ears. I felt the hairs stand behind my neck and my areolas become erect; the sensation was not by pleasure, but by fear of what was to come.

"I sense danger." I whispered but could not speak.

A glint in my companion's eye looked like the northern star inside his pupils. He refused to heed the warning, and before the men could pull him from temptation, a foul, black steam escaped the demon's chest. The smell of what escaped was so putrid that I had to vomit. I could feel the early morning egg and sausage slither back up my throat at a million miles per hour, and in an instant, the burning of bile and undigested food hit my taste buds. My vomit hit the ground as hard as rain, and the men looked back at me in disgust. In was in those moments of distraction that the black mist became a black cloud; and in those moments, I shall not forget their faces as a pedal form crushed their fragile bodies into pulp. One by one, their bodies were stepped on like little ants, and I recall so well the sound of bone crushing beneath foot. I wasn't sure if the absence of screaming was due to the swiftness of death, or the shock of knowing their final moments were nigh. The shining diamond that glittered beneath a slew of fluids, bones, and excrement rose out of the vile creature's chest. I fell to my knees in disbelief watching the carnage, and in awe at my own sparing. The last companion was too entranced by this floating diamond, that the chaos around him failed to bother.

"My god, what wonderment comes to me at the hour." he reached out his palms.

This thing landed upon his palms like a butterfly. It was misshapen, holding no tangible form other than the light it emitted from its core. In my head, I wished for it be something familiar to my knowledge, but the realist in me knew better. It landed upon him and crawled up his arm like a caterpillar, ascending further up the limb.

"An angel! 'Tis but an angel before us! Look at this and be thankful that God has rid this body of sin!"

(To be continued.)