Saturday, April 11, 2015


Lilith did not know Betrayal was a physical assault. She assumed it was an emotion that momentarily devastated the mind, and if you believed in such things, slowly eroded the soul, but had no actual physical manifestation. No bloody nose.

But it isn’t true. 

Betrayal hits all three spheres of mind, body and soul. It attacks every perception, right into the darkest recesses of the subconscious and comes unbidden, physically forcing its way out of every part of you and manifesting in pain.

Physically, mentally and spiritually, it crucifies you.

In retrospect, she supposes she should have known better. Retrospect, however, was of no use to her when Betrayal slammed into her so hard that acid tears spewed from her eye sockets like lava and waves of shock avalanched  down her spine, crushing vertebrae like dominoes and then reaching around to squeeze her heart tight enough to make her believe she would die.

But death at that instance would have been a relief and the assault wasn’t over yet.

Her heart’s agony was ruthlessly ignored even as it pounded, begged and screamed for all its life to get out of its rib-encaged prison.

But Betrayal continued its torment without mercy, bringing Lilith to her knees with such speed and intensity she felt the physical pain of her limbs fracturing into shards of cartilage and bone. There was tissue and cellular debris as Betrayal torpedoed through every atom of her being, sadistically seeking out pain receptors and nerve endings with which to intensive the brutality of its attack.

When it had done its job, leaving her flesh ripped open to reveal the insides of her, Betrayal calmly walked away, like one of nature’s instinct-driven beasts, unperturbed at what it had done and having no awareness whatsoever that it and its actions were an abomination. 

The Beast of Betrayal was thus not moved to compassion by the sights and sounds of Lilith's suffering, but rather was annoyed in an almost off-hand way by the sound of her uncontrollable whimpering, the gnashing of her teeth and the crushing of her dislocated jaw. To the Beast, witnessing the excruciating torture of her body and soul was a mild annoyance, like swiping at a single fruit fly buzzing by.

It didn’t care. No one cared. Lilith lay there, fallen, believing she'd never be able to move her broken bones or dry her oozing wounds on her own, that she would need someone.

But no one came. She lay there for an eternity, hoping death would finally just do its job and put her out of her agony, but discovered even death had deserted her. Left with no other choice, she gathered herself from her fallen position of heaped-up, forgotten kindling and ever so slowly rose back to life like the sparks of a newly created fire.

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