At last, this is the night I have been waiting for.
The night I have been planning for all these long months.
Tonight I shall once again create my beautiful beast!
My terrible, horrifying, beautiful beast...for which I have such a great and undying love.

I'm at the barn now. It's peaceful here, quiet.
No one is here, no animal is present, save the owl that calls from a tree over there.
Ah yes, over there. By that house where the people sleep, not knowing what is soon to come.

I'm spreading the fuel now, how sweet the smell of gasoline. I love it so.
Carefully I stack the loosened straw - just right!
I carefully open the side doors;
only a bit, for my creature must breathe.
Now I'll block these doors, so that others cannot enter and kill my creation before it can truly live.

Now I'm lighting the match, so wonderous that this tiny flicker will soon create such a hellish monster.
But the straw is damp - it will not catch!
You must catch, YOU MUST!
Catch afire! CATCH AFIRE! Oh but please...
IN THE NAME OF ALMIGHTY GOD, BURN! BURN YOU FILTHY VILE WHORE, YOU FOUL BASTARD, BURN! I WILL NOT BE DENIED MY PLEASURE!

All is good, the straw has caught now.
Life is stirring within my child, it grows.
It's growing quickly now, spreading, beginning to eat.
How mystical to see the flames dance silently across the wooden floor, in search of more to consume.
It reaches to the loft!
So beautiful the light and shadows that dance upon the walls, like nymphs and fairies in their graceful play.

I must leave... for my beast begins to speak.
A hiss, a hiss that rises, without stopping for breath, 'til it will reach a fearful roar!
I must leave now, before it destroys ME!
Out the small window, and across the field I run, that terrifying entity behind, lighting my path before me.

Now I'm in the woods.
Now I can watch my creation live, in all it's glory!
It's beautiful, It's magnificent with it's all consuming power!
It lights the darkened skies of the night with it's wonderous pillars of fire!
I have done what had to be done!
YES! YES! THIS IS WHAT WAS MEANT TO BE!

Those people. Those people from the house, they've come out now.
They've come out to relish in the sight of that which I have created!
But wait, they're crying. Why are they crying?
How can they not love what they see before them?
Do they not realize that this is so much better than what they had?
THE FOOLS! DO THEY NOT COMPREHEND THE SHEER MAJESTY OF THAT WHICH I HAVE PRESENTED TO THEM?
DO THEY NOT LOVE MY ALL POWERFUL BEAST?

The others, they're coming now. Those others who would kill my creature.
I can see the pulsating lights, I hear the wail of the sirens.
What a beautiful reflection the red lights make on the smoke that fills the sky.
It's a magical sight to behold, this luscious inferno that rules the night.

Now they're running about, they shoot their pitiful streams of water at my creation.
They make such feeble efforts to stop it.
But they cannot stop this fearsome brute!
They are powerless in the face of my beloved monster!
THIS DEMONIC CHILD OF MINE WILL NOT BE DENIED IT'S FEAST!

But I must flee.
I must go so that they will not capture me again, so they will not put me in that place again.
That place. That place with it's sterilized walls and it's pills.
That place where they have locked doors. I cannot bear the locked doors!
That place where they don't understand.
THAT PLACE, WHERE I CAN NEVER GO AGAIN!

And so I run. I run as fast as my feet will carry me.
I run until my side stabs at me with merciless, searing pain.
I run until my lungs are burning, gasping.
RUN! RUN!

There, I'm home now.
Once again I'm safe.
Once again I am secure in this sanctuary.
They never find me here. They look for me, but never here.
I'm always safe here.

Now I feel the fear coming. Why must I endure the fear again?
What am I frightened of?
And now I'm trembling so, shaking!
My stomach makes me ill!
I race for the sink, barely in time do I get there.
I vomit. Why do I always vomit?
I vomit for so long, so hard, my stomach brings forth a terrible pain!
PLEASE DEAR MERCIFUL GOD, STOP THIS PAIN!

I'm crying. I always cry afterwards, I don't know why I do.
I don't want to cry, but it always happens.
It isn't fair. It isn't fair that I should be put through all this.
Oh, I want to stop crying!

Now I'm better. I'm at ease once again.
But I'm so tired, I feel exhausted.
These nights always leave me exhausted.
I must sleep.
Ah, beautiful sleep. Wonderful, soothing, peaceful sleep.
How I need you so. I am yours...

At last it's morning.
What a spectacular morning!
The birds do sing the most pleasant of songs.
The dew glistens on the blades of grass in the yard.
The sun is slowly showing itself from behind the distant mountain peaks.
All is well in this world tody.

I am making me a breakfast.
A simple meal. I have not the time for extravagent cookery.
For there is work to do, I must plan.
Plan for another night...plan for a night, when my beautiful beast shall live again!

Footnotes to follow.

[This message was edited by Ridin1 on 03-05-02 at 12:40 AM.]

I thought you said you couldn't write. LIAR!

I was drawn in to this. Such an innocuous beginning, and the tension and madness mounts throughout. You never lose the reader. I was fascinated and horrified. But at least there were no animals in the barn.

One suggestion. You set this up as a poem - I would change the format, and remove the breaks after each sentence. It reads and feels like a story (dare I say 'essay'?). I'd make it 'look' like one, too. But don't take out anything except the spaces!

-----
If you're offering me diamonds and rust
I've already paid

WoW..
This reminded me of a girl I was competing against in an interp match (no pun intended). In her peice she was setting her house on fire, and it was really interesting...The reasons that she had, and how it was...beautiful to her. And, well, her screaming at the top of her lungs...hehee

Ah well, to echo rhon, why don't you just make this a short story? Lovely peice!

Selena

Children of the Night,
Only some will star the sky
Only believers in Death will die.
-Saul Williams

The local authorities have already expressed concerns over my mental well being, this might just be enough to push them into taking action.

Footnotes,

1)~ Some years ago I encountered an individual, at a train station, who was on his way to a facility for the criminally insane. He felt compelled to tell me all about what he did. I garnered the preceding from his semi coherent rant. I was going to get up and change seats when he started up his one-sided dialogue, but I soon found his ravings fascinating to listen to. All the while, he was handcuffed to an iron railing (Gee, no surprise there). His guard would occasionally look up at me, roll his eyes, and go back to reading his book. I guess the novelty of this twisted mind had worn off for him.

2)~ Several times while rambling on, this madman's voice would rise to a scream. In fact, everything in "caps" is something he screamed at me. Then he would suddenly become calm, lucid and articulate. Next he would become frightened of where he was being sent. The line about the sterilized walls and pills is an exact quote. Those two things seemed to be his biggest concerns (along with the locked doors). I began to feel sorry for this man, robbed of a normal and happy life, he constantly fought the demons within him - without much success.
As an aside: He used the same vernacular in speaking to me that I use in the story. It was as if he likened himself to be a dramatic player on a stage.

3)~ I wasn't sure of how to put the tangled mess of thoughts he spewed forth, into print. I decided on a running narrative format. As I look at it on my monitor, I'm still not sure if it "works". (Where's Rhon's expert opinion when I need it?) So if all of you hold your nose whilst giving it a profound "Thumbs Down", I'll understand.

4)~ Rhon and FairGwen, this is not the piece I told you I'd write. That one got relegated to the back burner, for as of late I've been rather busy.
I'm at 2nd draft now, but I need to edit it down to a more reader friendly length. (I don't think Theno would appreciate my posting a novel here.) Maybe by midweek.

~

[This message was edited by Ridin1 on 03-05-02 at 12:41 AM.]

I cannot believe that you two found this before I could even get the footnotes posted! And you call me a lurker, Rhon. Were you just sitting there waiting to pounce? Maybe you and Selena were waiting, guns cocked and at the ready, so as to open fire the instant this hit the board! I feel intimidated, stalked if you will, now.

------------------------------
"He talks a lot, but he doesn't say much."

trader...

Rhon: I thought you said you couldn't write. LIAR!

I always heard it as, "Liar, liar, pants on fire." Apt, I think, as I direct it now to you!

Well, between you and adept soulmate kenyjackson, I again call it preferred reading where "he," in his mad rant, takes my hand and leads me, a popeyed witness, along his trail of insanity. I listen as this pyromanic lovingly, frighteningly personifies one of the terrors we who are normal so dread to face.

I found in your essay?/narrative? the same sort of fascination I feel when I pass bloody roadkill while driving the interstate. I simply must look (read) even as it repels me in theory.

You did a splendid job of "locking me in."

Thumbs decidedly up!!!

Limn

Trader,
That was fantastic! I don't normally read the long pieces all the way through, I just scan them but I was really drawn into this one. It really dragged you along, you've got the pace perfect. Just thought I'd reply to say I love it. It made me feel really excited - just like playing with fire - daring almost. Ooooooo
love
Sapphire

Just what I thought- there is, indeed, a fantastical writer in Trader. I'm glad you posted this... I started it a little unsure, as most of the "not for everyone" pieces aren't my style, but as I had been begging for a piece, it seemed appropriate to read it. But then- wowzers! The story of a madman brought to life... I liked the way it sounded... short sentences... very looped feel to it. Snazziness!

Fantastical Job, Trader.
Thanks for sharing!

-------....-----
Have a fantastical day!

But thanks all...especially for not calling the whitesuits on me. (YET)

------------------------------
"He talks a lot, but he doesn't say much."

Trader,

Soon after you ignited controversy in the ".Not eromyna" thread, you posted this incendiary piece. What's a logical person to think? (You hadn't posted the notes yet when I read the piece.)

Ergo, I think you like playing with fire. ;-)

Seriously, this account is riveting.... to read how a human mind can perceive chaos and destruction as a beautiful beast is shudderingly awful.

Don't be so slow to share more writing.

Airedale

trader,

I am very impressed, not only with the vividness of this, but with your talent also. While reading this it occurred to me that there are people who have to live inside of that mindset...it's disturbing.

Also, while not the same thing, I was reminded of thenostromo's post, "Time to Kill", which can be found here:
http://forum.quoteland.com/eve/forums?a=tpc&s=586192041&f=207192712&m=7281994922&r=1411975032#1411975032

-Hellsangel

------------------------------------------------------------
"Where you used to be,
there is a hole in the world,
which I find myself constantly
walking around in the daytime,
and falling in at night
I miss you like hell."
-- Edna St. Vincent Millay

Well trader,

I see if you can't get people to live outside their box you can always burn down the box.

We tried to talk them out of the box. Now you have taken it one step further. I hope rhon and Airedale have fire insurance.

Good work

I can trace my lineage back to King Lear's fool, so it is genetic.
Nick

A disturbing but brilliant look inside
the mind of a psychotic arsonist and by your footnotes I see you were given a very close look.
Well done!trader

We shall not cease from exploration. and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time T.S. Eliot

Very good. By the way, I wear a white coat at work.
I once told pest on the Debate Forum that they were akin to someone that liked to start fires and then go off to a nearby hill and watch it burn. Now you've written about it.
The last four lines seemed superfluous. I can gather that this "beast" has been around for awhile and ain't going anywhere soon. Just a suggestion, but it would have a more eerie (for me) and paradoxically menacing feel to it (for me) if you were to end on an up note, as in:
At last it's morning.
What a spectacular morning!
The dew glistens on the blades of grass in the yard.
The sun is slowly showing itself from behind the distant mountain peaks.
The birds do sing the most pleasant of songs.
All is well in this world today.

Just a thought. Great work.
P.S. note to Jess (HellsAngel). thanks for remembering "Time to Kill" and the link.

I rather suspected that all of you would get just a bit of the chill I felt when I met this wretch. It has been several years now since I looked into his eyes, but I can still recall vividly, the cold evil I saw in them. I was quite surprised to find myself having feelings of pity for this demented lunatic.
I do appreciate the suggestions for changes from all of you here and in the E-mails, (Whoa! Lots and lots of E-mails!) but you know...Strange as it seems, this is pretty much what I was able to make of what he said. The thoughts bounced around like a ball as they came out of his mouth. I have tried to group them together, into little packets of relevence to each other.
~T/N; I can appreciate what you're saying about the last few lines, but he said that to me, with a wild look growing on his face as he said it. I know it would appear foolish to concern myself with this madman, but I just felt he deserved that little bit of respect. So I made as much of an effort as possible to maintain all the dialogue I could remember within this piece.


(Hey everybody, this reply actually posted!)

[This message was edited by Trader on 11-02-02 at 05:12 AM.]

I read this poem and thought, wow, this guy likes to pretend he sets fires. Then i read your notes and thought, wow, this guy likes to listen to crazy loons and though, wow, how appropriate for QL. But seriously, this was an excellent poem, and i know someone said it earlier, but you draw us in so well, and then hold us tight while we watch in a mix of fascination, horror, and fanatical glee (the narrator's part) as this fire grows and consumes the arsonist's mind, then realeases him to do it again.

Whew... is it hot in here or is it just me??

Harv

A QUESTION
A voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.

Robert Frost

Well, Well, this fire was more funner then proper grammer anyway

Nelly Furtado- Well, Well

The End

Or you can write something that shows that they are in boxes by claiming it is not a poem. Then when they refuse to acknowledge it...torch them.

I can trace my lineage back to King Lear's fool, so it is genetic.
Nick

The police caught a firebug here the other day. I read what the paper had to say about her and it reminded me of this one. No matter how many times I read this it still gives me chills.

All right, everyone can relax now, I'm here!