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The Day of Reconciliation
No boundaries. No limitations. Time is ticking away, and soon, two worlds will merge and conduct the same symphony. Hell is heaven; heaven is hell. Angels will be in harmony with devils. Devils will share the halos and pure hearts of their fellow angels. Respect is the Law, which will be expressed through love. There will be no hatred, but peace overflowing the corners in this single world. It is the Day of Reconciliation.
“So it has begun.”
Mahr Kwonsky—murderer, racist, vagabond—clenched his teeth until they are ground into pale white powder—the color of cocaine—as he muttered the words. The powder transforms itself into ashes then drifts away into the darkness. Instantaneously, the bloodstained eyes that surrounded and glared endlessly at Mahr casted a wicked shade over the ashes. Through a chemical combustion unknown to the world, the ashes were vaporized, and then they disappeared. His teeth, those of a saber-tooth tiger, reproduce themselves swiftly.
As he put on his magenta overcoat smeared with dried blood and hardened clumps of ash, he chanted the Captivate—an incantation written by Demon Ahrk millenniums ago to enhance evil in a soul’s mind—vigorously and maniacally. Every time he wore the overcoat, he felt magnificent, for he loved how his dry skin scraped against the inner surface of the coat in which he knew was made up of the dead skin of those who he killed during his early twenties.
Mahr chuckled to himself as images of shrieking victims that he tortured reappeared in his mind. The ring of darkness that encircled him thickened profusely.
While cracking his knuckles and gulping down gallons of blood, Mahr wore his dark gray helmet that was forged out of a taipan’s toxic venon in addition with smoldering iron and just a little piece of uranium. He climbed onto his dark gray motorcycle—a gift Hades presented to him on the first day he arrived at the Underworld—that was built up with skulls, rib cages, and vertebrates of the innocent people he murdered. The fuel it ran on was the blood of these very same people.
“Time to fly!” Mahr wailed as his dark gray motorcycle zoomed upward in light speed. Up and up he traveled as he flew past the Demon Cave where he caught glimpses of some of his friends waving at him and a few lost souls wandering around in Wilderness Kirx. He rode past the Land of Imps and purposely knocked some of them down. Up and up he traveled, past the guards, past the entrance, past the human world in which he took the route of a different dimension, and finally, into the heavenly clouds. Everything around him seemed to sing along while Apollo performed beautifully on his lyre. In the far distance, Mahr spotted Isaac Newton carrying a delicate basket full of golden apples, Ray Bradbudy writing science fiction stories with a diamond pen that glittered and produced rainbows, and Jesus dancing with several children. All of them waved and winked at Mahr and the other devils riding on their scorching hot motorcycles. They waved back good naturedly.
Soon, Mahr saw his friends that he befriended during the time he lived in the human world just a few clouds away.
“Look at that man coming! All styled up and physically on fire!” bellowed Weldon, the prosperous businessman and psychologist who died from a heart attack right after the celebration of his fiftieth birthday. He used to be Mahr’s best buddy during high school, but that was before he realized that Mahr was involved in drug dealing and prostitution.
“Hey Wel, what’s up? How you guys doing?” Mahr smiled to his other friends as he fist-bumped with Weldon.
“Nothing much. Just a few days ago, I heard Darwin just collected a million species! I saw his entire collection, and oh my, it was incredible. You won’t believe the variety of animals and plants up here, and oh yes!, I heard a new breed of unicorn was created!” Barlton, a famous botanist and adventurer, said cheerfully as he shook hands with Mahr.
“So do you enjoy the delicacies here, Marius?” asked Mahr.
“Oh yes, definitely! There is this ice cream mountain that has all the flavors you can ever dream of right on Kindness Avenue. And and, on Love Street, I saw a new French restaurant that looks exactly like Gusteau’s restaurant in Ratatouille! Amazing!” Marius replied energetically.
“Mozart will be performing his symphonies tomorrow since it’s his birthday. Will you like to come with us to his performance, Mahr?” Victor, the charming gentleman with an unbelievable talent in violin, asked with his clear blue eyes looking into Mahr’s dark gray eyes which Mahr always found disconcerting.
“Well, I would love to, but you all know the rule. I have to leave before the day ends; otherwise, I will be pulverized and sent to the Land of Nowhere.” Mahr answered as he shrugged and tilted his head.
His friends became silent. They looked to each other with seemingly transparent eyes. The light that surrounds them quivered slightly. Without realizing, Mahr trembled with unease.
“You see, Mahr, we know, and you know, that any devil that is willing to change and become a better soul can enter the Chamber of Repentance, and if he is successful, he can be forgiven!” Victor said hopefully.
“Exactly,” concurred Barlton, “we want you, Mahr, to take on the challenge! Trust us, you will be forgiven! Afterwards, you will be sent to the House of Recovery where you will have the opportunity in transforming into an angel!” Barlton cheered as his wings fluttered joyfully.
“Come on, Mahr, you can do it!” Weldon pleaded as he softly lowered his hand onto the devil’s shoulder.
Immediately, Mahr twisted Weldon’s hand like an anaconda when torturing its prey. Weldon simply stood there, smiling tenderly and unaware of his hand’s situation. Weldon mouthed the words: Give it all in, my friend. We want you here with us. I want you here with me.
“Bullsh*t! Nonsense! I’m a devil! I am a f**king d-e-v-i-l! Don’t do this to me, bastards! I live in hell, that’s where I should be, and that’s where I want to be! Hell is my love, hell is my life! Don’t you take it away from me!” Mahr fired gigantic fireballs fiercely toward his friends as he shouted uncontrollably. He felt the ring of darkness around him was slowly overlapped by the light his friends carried.
Unsurprised but compassionate, Victor said, “Mahr, my man, you are making this harder every year,”—the friends nodded in agreement—“why don’t you let kindness and true love into your heart?” Mahr caught a flicker of disappointment in Victor’s dazzling blue eyes.
“Because,” Mahr growled horrendously, “I am in hell and hell is in me. There is nothing you can do to change that.”
The friends looked at the devil with caring but distressed eyes. They reached their hands out, hesitated, and then pulled them back.
“Okay then, Mahr, it’s your choice, and we will respect it. Farewell, my friend.” Barlton bowed as he drifted away into the clouds.
“I guess I will see you next year,” said Victor almost soundlessly. Marius nodded his head in Mahr’s direction as he floated away with Victor across Peace Street.
Weldon still stood firmly next to Mahr. His presence was not of intimidation, but a silent resistant that made Mahr incredibly uncomfortable and nerve-shivering. From the corner of his eyes, Mahr noticed a twinkle in his friend’s eyes. Is that defiance? Is that disappointment? Tell me, you piece of… His thoughts ended in mid-sentence when he saw Weldon, seemingly coated in a shimmering cloth, turned around and slowly drifted away. His best buddy said nothing, not even a simple nod or a pat on the back. Nothing
It was twenty minutes before midnight. The Day of Reconciliation was nearing its end. Mahr stood where he was hours ago. He had been motionless since Weldon leave him. He was not thinking, but rather he was living in his thoughts. His heart felt abandoned and betrayed, and his mind was confused in determining its identity. Mahr Kwonsky was lost. He was living in a state of indecisiveness where he felt that his soul was gradually being torn into pieces.
“So it has begun.” Mahr murmured as he let his soul being gradually pulverized…
…and sent into the Land of Nowhere.