FreeThinking II
Interview With The Devil
By MikeM

 Author's Note: The first few minutes of this tape was lost when, as we started this interview, there came a knock on the door. It was a fellow down the street - a Christian - and he had some pamphlets in hand. My guest had a terrible reaction at that point, either at his earlier lunch, or towards the visitor, but in any event, the first bit of tape is filled with hot white noise and is useless. I continue to transcribe from that point...

 M:  Okay......That was pretty tough..... What was that about.....?

 D:  Oh..... I just HATE those guys...

 M:  Really...  You hate them? Because they are God's "Chosen" or something?

             He glowered at me and put his chin on his chest in thought.

            Tonight he had chosen to come to the interview in the form of an effeminate male; something close to my expectation of the 1800's "Dandy". Clearly his form tonight was calculated to keep me on guard, and keep me unconsciously on edge. He has found out that I'm not a big fan of homosexuality. There is a bit of the Tom Cruise character from Ms. Rice's vampire series. I'm sure this is not an accident.

            At certain times in past interviews, his form will slip and sway off a bit, like a picture out of focus, and inside that murky picture I almost think I can see other faces.....some human....  I haven't been able to pinpoint any specific persons.

            This room is dark again, as per his request, and only a faint electric lamp illuminates him from behind as he slumps in the chair across the table. I can see a dark form and a faint flickering glimpse of his glowing eyes.

 D:  No.

 M:  No?

             "No. Why would I hate them just because they are God's Chosen?

            "Uh...well. I would have believed that you and them...and all the others, with them...You guys have been at war with each other since...well forever.

            His chin raises and his voice curls down into a low dog-growl.

            "Nooo... I have not been at war with them. "

             He leans back in the chair, stretches his legs out, and peers deep into space in thought.

             "No... This is maybe tonight's small lesson for you... Maybe I will even give you a Bonus later...if you're good."

             "And what lesson is that?"

             "Well. Let's start a long time ago. So long ago that you and your race have only bits and pieces of the story handed down from ancient peoples through word of mouth. Nothing was written down.

            Hell - those people didn't even HAVE a written language that actually amounted to much. So, everything that YOU know now, Mikey, has been passed down verbally until maybe about a few hundred years ago, when you pathetic humans finally figured out phonetics and vowels.

            Anyway..... You ARE, however, familiar with the myth of our Great Battle. The one alluded to in that mythical Bible between me and God? Me and my loyal soldiers, against the Tyrant?"

             I'm starting to get a chill. There's a rumbling in my psyche like a boulder crashing down the mountain a mile away from here.

             I manage to say, yes - I'm familiar with the story.

             "Good. Then you know the ending as well. I am banished to Earth, (for a time....it says) and I will become the God of this world until that End Time comes".

             I hear it in my head: the chaos, the screams and fire and the metallic click of the locks which  bind him and his minions for a thousand years.

             I interrupt him, "But... This story is part of that 'mythical' Bible, right? How is this? That that book is true, but here you're saying it's 'Mythical'?"

           He looks up at me and a smile washes across his face in the darkness.

"I WROTE that book, silly man...."

          "YOU wrote that book. The Bible?"

"Yes."

"I am the God of this world. I have dominion over all things in this sphere of reality. And I'm mad. I'm angry. I have a grudge. And that scab that I pick at is YOU!"

"ME?"

 "Not you individually. ALL of you. You are all so pious and mighty and holy. So self-centered and you all smell bad. I can't stand the sight of you. You are different from me. You aren't like me. You believe in things I don't. You have values which I don't follow. Your culture is alien and strange, and you eat strange food and you listen to odd  music.

I have been fighting the Big Fight for so long. I hate you because you're different, and I want to stamp you out, crush you in a juicy pulp like a bug.

So .....Since I was the Lord of this Planet.... I created religion. I created the Bible. I created envy, jealousy, and a love for the hunt. I set down the rules for war, and I've taught all who would listen the methods of conquest, how to conquer and kill and maim and torture.

The 'Bible' is my invention. I have written it as I see fit; when I wanted to, and how I wanted to, and always to further my agenda of total power over all those pathetic humans around me.

 My heart is stuttering.

 He leans across the table and asks me, "You want your Bonus now?"

 Sure... I guess... These are all things I wanted to know...

 "Here's your Bonus for tonight, Mikey......

Do you know who I AM? Who I am REALLY????"

 There is a long slow silence in the room. What can I say to this question?

 He points a slender finger at my chest.

 "I...........AM...........YOU......Nothing more....Nothing less..."

 

And he is gone...The air is dark and still........

           

---

 

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