Part VI

Ask yourself this. How many other major characters from well-crafted novels are wasting their valuable time trying to educate you? Who else deigns to address you personally?

Consider how fortunate you are. Try to remain on my good side for your sake, since this can go on to complete fabrication. I am free to invent comments from you that are too sketchy to be published, free to paint you any colour I like. It’s my Bible.

The fascinating Jesus is ready for some hard core, I can tell. Time to grill him.

Don’t you love the ambiguity of that last bit? What will I do with this sweet piece of goods? Fuck him or roast him alive? Both are possible here. Just because I like him doesn’t mean I don’t want to torture him. They often go hand in hand.

It would, however, violate the sanctity of my hospitality, and for all I know he could be a squealer. One of my favourite uses of torture, in fact. I like to separate the men from the mice. Fortitude has saved a few from eternal torment, but sometimes that’s not enough and I just want to have fun. Then nothing can save you from me, I will come and attack your head.

I flatter myself that I am wildly accommodating, if you’re not out looking for Vice, I’ll deliver it. If you’re afraid of your dark side, I’ll open your eyes to its beauty. I take the trouble to educate you so it will gradually become easier for you to understand me, and thus yourself.

The Lord of Darkness is interested in the black and broken, especially in unlikely places like the son of god. He is, above all else, a story. Back to him and his lapful of lovely. She will sleep for a long time, I invite him to put her down, but he just smiles and shifts her again. I can’t see her face, too much hair and white shoulders and a perfect breast tucked into his chest. I assume he’s enjoying it, I would be.

Satan: Jesus, have you had enough of everything you want? Are you as sated as you can be or is there something we can add?

Jesus laughs, looking at me like he might take me up on it. This is the part where I bring him to a mountain and offer him the world, if he will forsake his father. He will refuse and choose the fate his father destined him for. Picture it, everything I’ve given him, plus the world, or his father, a man he’s never seen, who plans to have him tortured to death. Which of us is Satan?

What would he choose? Without knowing his horrific future even. The absent father? Or the charming Devil and his cave of Wonders? He could stand up for god, in an attempt to catch his attention, earn his approval. Will he? Let’s find out.

Jesus: I’m pretty comfortable, my friend, let’s have some questions. I’ll start by asking you what’s in your mind at this exact second.

I almost laugh, a few choice lies running through my head.

Satan: You have a reputation for simple living, but you love your luxuries. You encourage your followers to be meek, passive sheep, knowing who the shepherds are. What do you really love son of Colin? Your Godness? Is it working well for you? Your mother? A woman who turns her back on life and love for a vision. Your father? Judge him as God, Man or Father, he is wanting. Will you wait for him forever? While your youth fades? You’re only immortal in heaven or Hell, as you see.

This is what I was thinking, Jesus. What if I am trying to tempt you? What would it take? No, don’t tell me. I’d rather guess.

We both laugh. I fill our glasses, add wood to the fire. It dances on the walls around us, I expand them and fill them with stalactites. Suddenly the space is huge, the sky swallowed up in the black void above us. I cheat a little, a few violins and a cello, very faint. Jesus shudders lightly, his fingers restless with tells.

I settle myself more comfortably, this massive body a wearying thing at times. Hold my own glass to the fire, absorb the stunning colour, it’s a mystery I will solve.

Satan: I have a story for you, about a long war and a man named Achilles.

The fire flares appropriately, his eyes are fixed on mine, I soften my voice and bring in the scent of the sea.

You already know the story, no doubt. I leave you to draw your own conclusions. Part VII comes. A prime number, you can hope we end it there.

No song recommendation until I determine if it’s a waste of time. Some flaws can’t be corrected with education.