MicroHorror

Xiere loomed over the screaming man and laughed. His prey was a young man named Michael. Michael was chosen because he was kind and had aspirations of becoming a priest. He was exactly the type of person Xiere despised.

Although Xiere could take any form, he chose to appear before Michael as a man. Xiere, however, was far more than a mere mortal. He was a very old creature, almost as old as time and completely evil. The power he wielded was overwhelming and terrifying. He flitted among the humans defiling or slaughtering all who opposed him.

He ran his fingers through his shoulder-length black hair, pausing briefly before resuming his game. Michael’s shrill pleas for mercy brought a smile to his cruel lips. Mercy was for the weak and something Xiere would never give. He slowly pulled Michael’s limbs from his body, using magic to keep him alive. Soon Xiere would claim Michael’s soul, adding him to his minions eagerly awaiting command. His callers were collecting souls even as he paused for a moment to play. It was only a matter of time for the battle between good and evil to begin and Xiere lusted for the death of his enemies.

“Are you ready to die?” Xiere asked, growing weary of the game.

“Yessss! P… please!” Michael begged.

“All in good time,” Xiere chuckled. “First, I require your soul.”

“Take it,” Michael whimpered.

Xiere quickly cast a spell, obliterating Michael’s body and spraying blood like a fine mist. The soul knelt before Xiere.

“Join the others and await my command,” Xiere ordered.

“Yes, my lord,” Michael said, disappearing.

“Are you here to join me as well, Tiberus?” Xiere asked the guardian angel who had arrived too late.

“NEVER! I am here under God’s command. He demands an audience with you.”

“And why should I obey such a weak creature?” Xiere provoked him.

“GOD IS NOT WEAK!” the angel shouted. “Should I tell him you are too much of a coward?”

Xiere’s eyes grew cold though the smile never left his lips.

“You can tell him anything you wish, Tiberus,” Xiere said, softly.

Tiberus knew he had overstepped his bounds.

“I… I apologize,” Tiberus stammered.

“Perhaps I should go. It will give me the opportunity to corrupt innocent souls.”

Tiberus turned quickly, eager to avoid the death echoing in Xiere’s eyes. He knew Xiere would kill him at the first available opportunity. He took Xiere to the outskirts of Heaven where God was patiently waiting.

“Xiere,” God greeted coldly.

“And what, pray tell, do you want?” Xiere asked sarcastically, “as you know, I’m very busy. There are so many of your people I have yet to kill.”

“I am ordering you to stop immediately!” God demanded. “I am ready to return my son to the earth. He will battle you and your evil creatures.”

“After all these years, you still don’t know.” Xiere clucked.

“Know what?” God asked, confused.

“That your son serves ME.”

God’s mouth opened with dismay.

“You see, he was suffering on the cross, begging for your help and being ignored. I came to him and offered MY salvation. He readily agreed and he has been MY caller ever since. He shall control a legion of the most heinous creatures in existence. Your son will command the very evil YOU sought to defeat. All this time, you thought he was calling souls for you,” Xiere scoffed, “while he was actually calling them for me.”

God knew Xiere had spoken the truth. His own love had foolishly blinded him.

“My son was supposed to die so that others might live,” God finally said.

“And little did you know he died so that others may die.”

“YOU… vile beast!” God spat.

Xiere threw his head back and laughed. “I think I shall leave you with this final thought. Who do you think incited the masses to crucify your son in the first place?”

Xiere disappeared, his laughter hanging in the air.