The storyteller of pain, p.23
The Storyteller of Pain, p.23Loren Molloy
The Storyteller of Pain laughed with mirth as did the Prince of Darkness.
“Deal!” The voice boomed.
The thirteen men began to scream and they tried to run.
The demon raised a talon over his head and his eyes glowed with evil yellow light. The men began to scream a blood curdling scream and writhe in pain. Then each of the men began to shake violently from head to toe. Their eyes liquefied and oozed down their own melting faces. Their whole bodies were being liquefied as well.
A black mist was flowing from their mouths and floated toward the demon’s mouth. The demon began to suck up the mists like one would drink a milkshake through a straw. For what seemed like years but what could have only taken minutes, the men screamed and melted into human puddles until there was nothing left but skeletons as well as pink gooey puddles beneath and around each skeleton. Then there was only silence.
“Mmmmmh. That was delicious! Thirteen is so much better than just one puny mortal.” The Demon licked his lips and smacked them together in satisfaction several times.
Lily could see the demon wasn’t preparing to leave. She had a flash image of a passage from the book her predecessor had written about how to make a demon leave.
“Now, Demon I am protected and you cannot harm me. I address you with the utmost respect. You are intruding on our lives, and there is nothing for you here. I am asking you to please leave. Go back whence you came. Go to your home, where you will be at peace. Thank you,” Lily said with a respectful bow.
“Humph.” The Prince of Darkness let out.
Lilian couldn’t tell if it was with a feeling of annoyance or being slightly impressed.
The Storyteller of Pain stood up.
“All thirteen have had their fun and our pact is now done,” the Storyteller said to the Prince of Darkness with a pointed look.
The Prince of Darkness stared at Lily and John for several moments in contemplation.
“Holy Water, Holy Oil and that brick dust makes you taste like shit anyway,” Beelzebub said with a look of disgust on his demonic face.
“Fine, Storyteller. Let us leave. Don’t forget the book. Can’t have any fun without it being given to another stupid mortal, can we?” The Prince of Darkness said to the Storyteller with an evil grin.
“There are always plenty of those. Mortals who think they can control us and use us for their own gains,” The Storyteller said with a smirk, picking up the book and handing it to the Prince of Darkness.
“Ha! So true, Storyteller, so very true. I can’t wait to see who the next group that uses the book will be. I wonder what delights of torment and terror we will get to inflict next. Until then Storyteller... See you in Hell.” The Prince of Darkness cackled and began to dematerialize in front of their eyes.
The last thing Lilian and John saw of the Demon was his face. He was smirking at them and then gave them a wink before disappearing entirely.
The Storyteller looked back at them smiling.
“What a wonderful chapter this makes for me. How truly delightful it has been!” The demon collapsed to its knees seemingly exhausted.
Still smiling at them she said, “Don’t you see, I am a map of scars? Under this skin, under this flesh, a book of scars tell the story of my life. I’m like a patchwork quilt but nothing so pretty or so neat. Each scar is a story. Each story leads to another scar and another story. The story is never complete. It will never be complete. I am the storyteller of pain.”
Then she let out a horrific scream and the woman’s whole body began to writhe in pain and shake from head to toe. The woman was melting just like the other men did. In a matter of minutes the woman was another pool of gooey human substance. Except afterwards, even that gooey human liquid disappeared leaving only the skeleton.
“Delia’s become another page in the Storytellers book of pain,” Lily said in terror and sorrow.
John looked at Lily and pulled her tight to him. He hugged her hard and began kissing her passionately. They were alive. Somehow they were both alive and in each other’s arms.
“Let’s get out of here!” John finally said to her when he was able to pull himself away from her.
“Yes! Yes, oh please. Let’s get as far away from this as possible,” Lilian cried.
The rain had stopped at some point making them both believe the storm was not a natural one. Even the roads, once flooded, were now dry. It had only taken an hour to get out of that asylum into John’s car and onto a ferry the state had set up. The ferry got them to the next state safely. Then they were on their way to Oregon as they had originally planned.
They stopped in Ohio where they spent a week recouping. John was as good as his word and as soon as they were both healed and recovered from the horrific ordeal, they got married. Lilian couldn’t stop saying out loud, “Mrs. Lilian Barkley” which made John smile from ear to ear every time. They settled in Oregon where John began a construction business and Lily began a private therapy practice.
They kept the boxes of information that her predecessor had complied. Just in case they ever ran into another demonic problem, they would know what to do. The boxes of information came in very handy when Lilian began to help others who would tell her about problems in their personal lives or in their homes which Lilian would realize were demonic in nature.
She became known as the Spiritual Shrink. Whether it was a matter of the mind or spirit, people would call her for advice and help.
John and Lilian lived out the rest of their days together, happily in love. They knew they were blessed to have found each other and to survive what had happened to them. They were also truly thankful that they never became a chapter for The Storyteller of Pain.
Loren Molloy won her first award in 2005 for Best Young Poet. This was the catalyst to the creation of her first published book Black Dreams and Shattered Illusions. Loren has been writing books ever since.
When Loren isn’t writing or researching for her next novel she spends time watching Horror movies, walking outdoors in her beautiful home state of New York, and interacting with others through her social media accounts.
Find out more at: www.lorenmolloy.com
Loren Molloy, The Storyteller of Pain
The Storyteller of Pain by Loren Molloy / History & Fiction have rating 4 out of 5 / Based on32 votes