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!
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
