The Goat [Completed]

How I Died

Hospitals made me sick. Not just because several people died there but because several people left the building looking like scientific experiments. No doubt most ended jumping off buildings or bridges. If only they knew where they were going after taking their lifes; because in hell you could not take your life no matter how hard you tried. Besides if the giant flames couldn't kill you what else could.

Hell is a terrible place.

Megan struggled under the sheets; her movements drew my attention. She held the sheets tight in her fist. I placed my dark fingers on her dark skin. We were dark but she was way darker on the inside. Brushing her skin with my thumb, memories of my first life came to me. Those beautiful days in Canada. When we were young holy black kids. Like all other black parents our parents ushered us to church every Sunday. As we grew older we learned a lot of things; a lot of things which contracdicted with what Sister Helen had taught us about the Bible. What you learn affects how you think and how you think determines who you are. Megan became skeptical about God especially when our grandma died on her way to church.
"How could God let her die on her way to His temple." Megan wondered. "Why is God so mean?"
"God's ways are pure and unquestionable." I quoted our Father's favourite words.

As Megan entered her twenties she steadily drifted away from God. Very often she argued with the priest regarding the nature of God.
"Why does he let his children suffer?" She often asked. The priest like my parents became worried of her attitude. They even stopped her from using the internet but when they did it was too late; she had already joined the Satanic Church. She began converting me and several of her friends. It always began as a petit argument; arguments she always won. Her doctrines were very pleasing to the ear. She made the devil seem good and God seem bad.
"So God is the bad guy?" I will ask her.
"Yes He is." She replied confidently. "Anyone who says He is not hasn't read the Bible properly." This was when she will begin narrating how God let the Israelites suffer as slaves in Egypt for three hundread years. How God made people masters and others slaves. How God led his chosen people into the desert rather than magically placing them in the promise land; besides he had the power to do so but rather he let them suffer in the wilderness. Everything she said had some sense in it, it made me feel stupid being a christian. My dad had taught me to beware of false teachings.

"But God sent His son Jesus to die for our sins, isn't that love." The was no way she could deny that. I felt proud being a christian.
"Tom don't be foolish." She replied that lovely evening as we sat outside observing the night sky. "If God was so loving as you say He shouldn't have killed His son. What kind of Father does that?!" I searched my mind for a reply but I didn't find any. "Jesus was no saviour, if He was there should be no more disease, war, famine and death. When The Goat will come, you will see how a true saviour works." The Goat was her version of a Satanic messiah; someone to free mankind from all its suffering. The devil had called me The Goat during my appointment and since I came to earth I've done nothing but helped him aquire souls and release demons into the world. That's how the devil saves mankind.
The devil comes to steal, kill and destroy. Sister Helen's voice echoed though my mind. Like all the others she was right. If I knew I wouldn't have believed Megan. Her philosophy was too good. I didn't realize when I joined her in her devil worship rituals.

We had purified ourselves by bathing in salt for about a week. It was Sunday evening; the night sky was without the moon or stars. She took me down to the basement of her appartment. It had been transformed to shrine with several candle stands. A large pentagram covered most of the floor. Several dark bottles were arranged perfectly on two wooden shelfs. The bottles were identical and the red inscriptions on them indicated what they contained. As she guided me into the basement, I could feel people walking around. My eyes searched the darkness only to form headless figures. I wiped my eyes with my sweaty hands. I smelt something; it smelt like meat, fresh meat. I ignored it.
"We are alone, right." I held her arm tight so she could feel my fear.
"Yes." That didn't make me feel any better. "But they will be coming soon."
"Who?" I looked around confused.
"The spirits." The way she said it sent chills down my spine. "Don't be afraid..." who wouldn't be ".... I will keep the bad ones away." By bad ones she meant angels.