Its not ironical to say I'm a man who has lived ten thousand lifetimes.
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[Year 1209]
Intense noises of the horses neighing reverberated from a distance, it was followed by the chattering noises of the crowd.
their faces laced with happiness as they watched him from the distance.
The feint breeze blew and the scorched sun descended upon the land.
His arms were tied together, with the chains wrapped around the horses, each distant the horses crossed, the more severe injuries he received, dressed in rags.....his flesh covered with bruises.
He was presented before the crowd.
A mockery to the Empire, he was hurled to his knees by the armored soldiers who escorted him.
He was whipped severely, the movements of the horses came to a halt and he received the last whip on his back.
Within a few seconds.....silenced reigned.
A giant cross was mounted before him.
Emerging from the shadows were three elderly looking figures, dressed in white cloaks.
Their silhouettes were on display.
From their dressings, one could easily tell they were priests and their appearance resulted in the uproar of applause, they were cheered.
And praised.
Their movements came to a halt.
Facing the man who remained on his knees, a man who could barely breath.....his throat stayed dried, his hands shivered....his eyes reddened, a result of the brutal beatings he received in captivity.
" Frey Howard, first of his name...you have been accused of blasphemy against the word of the Lord, charged with the crimes of witchcraft...."
" An evil art which dessicates the commandment of thy father, you have been given a fair trial.....this is your judgement "
" Any last words? "
The first of the three elders questioned, his words were authority itself, being the oldest amongst the three priests, he was ordained to pass on the judgement against the evildoer.
The Court stayed silent, they watched from the distance.
An hysterical laughter erupted, he chuckled softly... staying on his knees, he glared directly at the elders, unfazed by the gaze of the priests...he remain silent for a few minutes.
" I've been falsely accused of witchcrafts.....punished for being a holder of a blessing, you accused me of blasphemy because I speak against the doctrines of the church, you are all hypocrites "
He voiced out, he spat on the ground.
The crowd scorned him, he received a whip to the back once again, the pains he felt resulted him to groan out loud.
he could feel his insides being twisted by the savage beating he received.
He noticed the smirk displayed on the lips of the priest.
" Child, you do not hold a blessing but a curse.....a child born out of sorcery, that's who you truly are, the word of the Lord is absolute, your questions are blasphemous against his commandment "
" If there are no last words again.... goodbye "
The Priest stared coldly as he uttered those words, Frey overheard a bladed sound unsheathed behind him, the screams of the spectators became even louder, the noises of the outrageous believers kept piercing into his ears.
A single swing was all it took.
His bloods splattered on the air
His pool of bloods stained the ground, with his headless corpse soaked in his own bloods, he died as a sinner, judged and condemned...
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Quite saddening isn't it?
I simply showed you what's truly like to be me, blessed with a curse.
Reincarnation was like tuesday for me.
Every death equals a new life.
Over and over again.
Reborn and upon my awakening, my memory returns.
but every time I lived...I died by the hands of his children.
Who else would I be talking about if not Yahweh!
He is known by many names.
The Almighty, the King of Kings...the Ancient of Days, the Omnipotent Ruler.
Just when I thought I was a special creation of his, created for the purpose of spreading his name to the world.
I realized I was nothing but a mere puppet to him.
For ten thousand lifetimes.....I was slaughtered by those who bare his doctrines, his children persecuted me.
Centuries went by..... Millennials went by.
The same scenario replayed...my existence was a mere toy to him, a game he tossed around without care.
I prayed to him.....hoped for a chance to redeem myself.
But it was all fruitless.
My role was to die by the hands of his children.
I hated it.
I hated the endless persecutions I had to endure for his satisfaction.
I wondered when he would be satiated watching me suffer.
I'm done being a puppet in his grand game.
I'm done being a mere chapter in his endless novel.
If this is my fate....
Then I must break it.
If this is my curse, then I must get rid of it.
I must change my role...
If I'm always the victim in his story.
I think it's high time I become the Devil of the story.
The Incarnation of the Armageddon!
Instead of dying by the hands of his children....perhaps it's time for me to start killing them.
Its time to corrupt the church.
To prepare it for the end time!
I'm nameless, I've lived for eons...
Lived ten thousand lifetimes with ten thousand different names, only a few could I truly remember.
But if you must identify me.
I'm the Devil.