Billy

Inspired by a true life story, the following is entitled Billy. It is intended as a sequel to Benny. If you haven't read Benny I encourage you to do so; it is a symbolic spiritual representation of my own personal experience. And Billy, much the same, is also a representation of the true life story of someone else. I would love to hear your comments. Enjoy!

Billy

     Detesting the acidic taste of defeat, the Serpent of Old slithered away leaving an undulating path in the dust of the earth. So, it has come to this, he thought, smoldering as he skulked away. He was exasperated with botched jobs assigned to his lackeys. His goal now was to find a new project. He needed to find something a little more hands-on this time. The unsuspecting and unguarded were his most sumptuous prey. They were easy to find and he prided himself on his stealth attacks. He was tired of the puppetry with his minions. They never seemed to respond with the precision he would prefer. However, he had to admit, being the puppeteer did produce great pleasure as one jerk of the line held the power to make many jump. This reflection twisted his reptilian face into a sinister smile.

     Being a serpent, it was necessary to employ some creativity for the perfect “hands-on” adventure and thereby provide a two-fold experience – posses one and torment another. He needed to choose well or he could find all his efforts wasted after a time. His vehicle needed to be completely devoid of conscience, empty in spirit, easily given to suggestion and ripe for possession. It was as close to sensual as the Serpent could come when occupying his vehicle, snaking his way up the spine and into the psyche. He found Billy as ripe as an August peach. Already given to lust and it's perversions, Billy was the perfect choice. As the Serpent made his pleasured access to assume his new persona, Billy shuddered with excitement when the awareness of his own lust was heightened. The embrace was mutual. Consummating control of the body, the Serpent immediately felt the unity. The unholy duo was born. Pleased to be standing upright, he marveled at finding himself tall and handsome; charming was a bonus, as Billy had previously laid the groundwork necessary via a “little black book”. The reformation was complete – he was now at the helm. Seamlessly, as Billy, he took his first steps toward his next delight. New-B, as he thought of himself, hissing out a sulfurous laugh at his own wit, could not have been more thrilled with his new visage.

     A consummate ladies man, narcissistic and cunning to the core, Billy always had one in his pocket, one on the hook and at the very least one in the wings being groomed – but that was only on a slow day. Today was no different. A jack-of-all-trades by profession working odd jobs, Billy had varied skills which kept him in regular contact with a wide field of prey. Again, the Serpent congratulated himself on his discriminating choice. Billy came complete with the perfect infrastructure for the plan. While on his current job he had sighted the neighbor, a young single woman, whom the Serpent thought would be the perfect “toy”. He detested having to go out of his way. He coiled with pleasure over Billy's keen eye and Billy responded with a sadistic sigh. Now, with a few hours until she returned home from work, he devised his plan. First contact was always crucial.

     Needing to assume the perfect character for the part, he found Billy had already honed his skill at contrition. Ah, the ideal ploy. This was always a good opening he found. His dark side had the uncanny ability to shine when needed. Having already set the stage, prior to her return, with a calculated truck bumper shoved against her now broken split-rail fence he moved in, feigning humility, to make first contact. So smooth was his approach he very nearly left a trail in the dust rather than the expected footprints as he moved in sizing up his prey. His apology had to be flawless. Sliding in with a contrite smile applied – carefully not allowing his snake-like features to reveal themselves - and speaking to obtain her attention, he sprang his trap. He felt bad...could he be forgiven...yada, yada, yada. She, of course, caught off guard by such a forthright admission - and handsome smile - could do nothing but smile back and clear his conscience for him. Besides, Billy, contorting his reptilian features into the most humble form possible, offered to repair her fence before completing the job at her neighbors. Convenient and it proffered future contact.

     Over eons of practice New-B (he thoroughly enjoyed the irony of his self-proclaimed moniker) had honed his people skills well and was able to extract vital personal information in the course of the conversation. With his strategy in place he could begin the grooming process of What was her name? Oh, well, names are of no consequence. However he liked Souris, the French word for mouse, and thought it appropriate in this instance. Yes, Souris, she will be, he thought, remembering his love for watching the earthly little felines toying with their prey before the kill. The relationship to his current arrangement didn't escape him in the least. He almost blew his cover as those troublesome reptilian features twisted into a sadistic smirk behind Billy's face.

     Relishing the game as Billy, he took his time with Souris during the following week. Keeping the contact casual but flirty to maintain interest. Besides, time was of no essence, he had other options in play in the meanwhile - being without options was never an option. And the little black book was certainly a windfall for that purpose. And, Oh, the technology! A few phone calls, some well abbreviated text messages, and his horizons expanded over night. Delighted, he barely knew which option to pursue to keep the game in play the longest. He allotted some time for playing with Billy's current girlfriend, twisting her thinking, building her dependence, all-the-while plotting his next move with Souris. Feeling completely enamored of his new found pleasures in lust, each nefarious thought inspired another raising his consciousness to a new god-like level. At the moment he couldn't even remember this girlfriend's name. She provided only the necessary hovel for him to return to each night. He had no real use for her – except her credit cards which allowed him access to the worldly implements of his trade. He found it unusual when Souris rebuffed his use of flowers. In the past the flattery of flowers had been an easy scheme always working to open doors when well timed and well placed. However, she actually appeared offended and that was intriguing. Now he must find the right approach to break her will. This was going to be a challenge he would thoroughly enjoy.

     Meanwhile, the one Billy was grooming for his next foray was easily held in place with minimal contact. Easy marks were in no short supply. This one only required an occasional text message and brief phone call – almost too easy. It was Souris who was keeping him bemused. She was unlike any other he had previously encountered. By prolonging the job next door he was able to watch and learn; placing some well timed phone calls and text messages. Oh, how he loved text messages. Intimate yet casual all at the same time. It was amazing what could be conveyed merely with a letter. It sure beat stone tablets! The modern world - the ultimate playground – became opportunity at the very finger tips. Yet, Souris was holding him at arm's length when others had already begun to yield. A greater challenge than expected but one that only served to increase the pleasure of the hunt. This challenge demanded darker more ancient skills. Skills honed over 2000 years ago. He began to salivate at the thought of going even deeper. Tapping into ancient resources of knowledge and experience acquired eons ago, Billy was jubilant. It filled him with an exuberance for life previously unexplored fueling his ungodly passions. Souris would be no match for this new art form; because, indeed, this time it would be elevated to a work of art. Cunning and craft combined to the ultimate end, he mused as a demented smile crossed his face. Was that a scale he saw on his eyebrow in the mirror this morning?

     That night, distracted by Souris' rebuff, he snaked his way back to the girlfriend's pit – for that's what he thought of it. Her attempts at cleanliness were only met with contempt, though he did enjoy tormenting her with his raving upon finding the smallest thing out of place when he came home. This time he used his new found energy against the girl, demeaning her mercilessly and found it uniquely satisfying. He would have to call this energy up more often. The power was intoxicating. Reeling her in with feigned love and adoration, along with a little blasphemy, she had fallen for him in short order, allowing him free access into her home. The misplaced morals of this age made it too easy - but there was no victory to be had there and that disgusted him. Tonight he would sleep in the den.

     Billy's dreams that night were a torment of passion and putrescence. He awoke abruptly with the smell of decay in his nostrils and lust in his blackened heart and he took it out on the girl. This new sovereignty is highly effectual, he smirked with gratification. Leaving her without a thought he slithered off to work with a renewed sense of purpose for the day. This was going to be the day Souris would be added to his spoil. He felt confident there would be no hindrances. Sure, the rebuff had been put into play but that was just the way of the mouse wasn't it. They always enjoyed the game as much as the cat, right? toying with the affections of the felines just to keep it interesting. But in the end the cat always got the prize. The reward for a game well played.

     Still working on the job at the neighbor's house, Billy was able to monitor the coming and going of Souris. Gaining entry through an unlocked door while she was away, he surveyed her home noting all points of access. He smoldered with excitement at the intimacy of being in her space undetected, carefully leaving no evidence of his intrusion. But the urge to touch and fondle was nearly impossible to keep in check. The sights and smells were tantalizing, drawing him like a moth to a flame as he went from room to room taking in the luxury of this reconnaissance. Knowing the intimacy of the mouse's space was always helpful in forming his final tactic, and touching brought him Oh, so much closer. Yet his demonic confidence maintained that this time his approach wouldn't need elaborate design and thus touching wouldn't be necessary – though highly desirable. He reluctantly withdrew himself returning to work.

     In recent months his ego had grown with each new conquest. So certain was he this time he would need only to adorn himself with his soft feline qualities, he would rely only on the persistent patience of the hunt to gain him entrance without force. Now all he had to do was wait – the tantalizing and torturous wait. And wait he must; it had to be after dark. That's when the advantage is his, when the resistance of every Souris is weakest. He had never failed when his strategy was employed after dark. For now, in the waiting, he would pursue the game, pulling strings, making use of technology with some text messages and a phone call or two. Endearing phrases, along with the sound of his voice would, most certainly, prime the pump, so-to-speak. But he didn't quite have the patience of the feline refined as yet and the wait was virtually unbearable. Returning to the pit at the end of the day he was caught off guard finding an empty house and a note. He would be alone for the weekend. His lip curled in an angry snarl, What's-her-name was gone visiting her sister. His sinister heart had been set on some amusement and a shower before playing out the game with Souris. A little pre-game entertainment along with a beer or two – if he even bothered to count – would heighten the outcome.

     Conceding to only the beer and to help pass the time he curled his scaly reptilian fingers around the “little black book”, scanned the entries and chose an alternate pastime to amuse himself. Ah, here's one previously overlooked, his sulfuric breath wheezed through flaccid lips, surprised at the repulsive sound it made. This diversion would be quite entertaining. Fresh targets always caused his cold blood to run faster. Secondary contact had to be well timed and the clock was ticking on this one. He was grateful for the time-stamp system in this registry otherwise the occasional one would slip away due to lack of attention. Here strategy wasn't necessary, only contact, so he entertained himself in lengthy conversation before boredom and lack of interest set in. Trapping Souris was nagging in his perverted mind driving him like an overbearing taskmaster. He had to take control. He bowed to no master; he was no slave! He showered, made the awkward attempt at shaving – contorting the human face for such a ritual was so distasteful - and left without any gratification from the evening's entertainment.

     Checking himself in the rear-view mirror of his truck he sampled several expressions, focusing on the eyes. Not only did his appearance have to be perfection, so also did his demeanor. He never had quite gotten the whole transition into human form down pat and found often the eyes gave him away for some reason. Tonight it must be impeccable. Intimidation and forcefulness most certainly must remain concealed upon approach. Force would come later, but for starters it was all about pacification; convincing Souris the feline meant no harm. This, the final stage of the chase, always filled him with an unmatched exhilaration, yet managed with a cunning and calculated calm. This is what he lived for.

     Opting to begin with a short text message before driving away, he sent a simple query to Souris about her day. Expecting a quick response, he was momentarily confused when it went unanswered. He sent another five minutes later. Again nothing. Several more tries and his patience began to wear thinner than a sheet of ice in hell. He changed tactics. Dialing her number, the expectation was an answer, yet again he was met with only a voice mail prompt. Caught off guard for the second time in the evening he immediately hung up; but reconsidering and redialing, he chose to leave an enticing voice message instead. Getting cut-off by the message timer, he called back just to finish his thought. Lack of control was completely unacceptable, not to mention, he despised when the game-play didn't follow his predetermined plan. He snorted, very nearly expelling sulfurous fumes through his nostrils, as he sat in the truck. The alcohol he had previously consumed now fully coursing through his system began to sway his decision making. Juss who does s'this lil' snip ofa mouse think she ish anyway? She can't lead me on and then'ot follow through! Billy slurred out loud.

     The Serpent was incensed, ready to send Billy up in flames he was so angry. His passion for lustful pleasures had ensnared him, along with Billy, and now he was suffering the consequences as Billy wrestled for control due to the high alcohol levels in his blood. This was not the usual outcome; Billy's lust ran even deeper than anticipated. He would need to divert Billy's attention. Twisting tighter up into Billy's psyche, reminding him of all his past conquests, and giving him a brief glimpse into the future, the Serpent hissed conspiratorially, Who said there has to be only one tonight? Billy surrendered as the passions of his past played across his mind in pornographic fashion. The Serpent sighed with sadistic pleasure at once again being in control. This was going to be a good night!

     Billy drove off in a drunken fog deciding first to make a brief detour, thinking that nearly overlooked little entry in his black book would be fun for some warm up exercises. They say you should always stretch before a work out, right? he calculated, as he aimed his truck toward his first victim of the night.

     Completing that mission so quickly he didn't even work up a sweat, and after ravishing her violently and mercilessly, he left her devastated on the floor of her bedroom, bleeding and bruised. He huffed fumes of contempt and disgust at her as he slammed the door behind himself, heading for Souris' house; already worked up because she hadn't had the courtesy to answer her phone or texts. He knew the drive blindfolded, having been in the neighborhood for his job and the frequent drive-by to keep an eye on the prize. Arriving well after dark, he grew giddy with deviant delight to find lights still on in the house. So, she IS home after all! Playing hard to get, I see, he hissed; and the windows were all open as well. Perfect for alternate access if necessary. He exited his truck on legs still rubbery from the alcoholic consumption, though it's effects were beginning to wear off.

     Making his bold play, Billy sauntered up to the front door, nearly loosing his cool as he stumbled over some unseen object, rang the doorbell fully confident Souris would emerge, and pleased the glass in the door would allow him to see her face as she approached. The element of surprise always made for great counterplot. Yet, this time, he was certain she knew he was coming and would be waiting expectantly for him to appear. Really, she understands the game play by now, right? he reflected, as thoughts of other troublesome chaff came to mind. When there was no immediate response, the rage quickly surfaced; holding it in check, he took his time to, once again, ring the doorbell. He wanted her to be sure and understand ignoring him was NOT an option. A few more cycles of ringing and waiting ensued, building both his anger and his passions. Remaining calm was imperative; now was not the time to allow human emotions to interfere with his devilish intent.

     In the midst of his victorious musings there suddenly burst a thunderous rumbling roar from the other side of the door; deafening and as frightening as a freight train's imminent destructive crush bearing down with the great hideous light of it's engine illuminating him in it's spotlight, nearly blinding those reptilian eyes. Shocked and disoriented, yet driven by the engine of his own lust, he continued, now pounding on the door. Blinded by his own lustful rage and livid anger with the former botched jobs of his minions, the Serpent was completely unaware The Ancient of Days had called forth his most mighty warrior to stand guard at the door to protect one of his own. Billy had been too dull to notice, having freely given himself over to the to the demonic schemes. Seething at this turn of events the Serpent's scales bristled with contempt. This will be the final face-off! There is no light greater than mine! he scoured. He did not intend to lose this one.

     Through the glass Billy saw the looming presence of a monstrous creature with hundreds of eyes staring him down and an ear-shattering voice, loud like the crack of thunder, shaking the very ground on which he stood. The blinding white-hot light gave Billy pause to wonder how the door could withstand the heat without bursting into flames. The Serpent knew it well and coiled to strike. The menacing voice was commanding and powerful causing both Billy and the Serpent to stumble backward, unable to resist. This one you may not have! the voice pealed, She belongs to the Lion and the Lamb. The Serpent, recognizing the voice, remained undaunted; bent on the destruction he had already charted, propelled Billy forward, attempting his own countermove toward the door. He was ready to shed this worthless shell and do battle on his own - but not yet prepared to admit he'd chosen another substandard vessel - so he pushed on.

     As if bending into the force of hurricane winds, the Serpent drove Billy forward toward the door once again, determined to break through. The prize was in there and he WOULD have it! Billy, feeling the bile of fear rising up in his throat, froze when suddenly the unspeakable creature stepped through the unopened door morphing into a great living spire of light. The entire yard was illuminated with its blazing presence revealing the reptilian form within Billy, and it was bearing down on him. How was THAT even possible? Billy freaked, attempting to wrap his mind around what he'd just seen, not noticing the scales now protruding through his skin. Out from the midst of the light the great voice resounded once again, STOP! The Keeper will not allow you access. You cannot touch those who belong to Him! and producing a flaming sword, aimed it directly at Billy's heart, chilling him to the core. Billy's legs turned to jello at the fearsome sight. Yet he could feel the unholy struggle raging within himself; his own lust not having departed. This ancient battle was all too familiar to the Serpent; an ever present thorn in his side. He pressed even deeper into Billy's psyche. I am god here! he shrieked. Move, Billy! You simpering little snipe! You know she's in there, and I know you want her, he goaded.

     Attempting to comply with the Serpent's promptings, Billy's feet seemed rooted to the ground. He was unable to respond as the light of this creature enveloped him with its incinerating presence, pressing the sword into his flesh. Billy, your sins have found you out, the great voice of the creature condemned. Billy recoiled at the sound, retreating into the depths of his depravity, as he felt his body begin to smolder. Then from behind more lights appeared, flashing colors - red and blue, red and blue - with the ear-piercing scream of sirens. Filled with the frustration of the unattained conquest, he collapsed on the lawn unaware of the Serpent's seamless precision of withdrawal.

     Choking on the stench of his defeat, the Serpent silently slipped away across the lawn, the shifting of the blades of grass barely noticeable as he slithered into the darkness, leaving Billy to bear the consequences he knew all too well.

     He would Find a better goat next time, he coughed, puffing a toxic fume.

John 3:19-20

This is the judgment, that the Light has come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the Light, for their deeds were evil. For everyone who does evil hates the Light, and does not come to the Light for fear that his deeds will be exposed.

Copyright 2012 Donna Larsen