by Ryder W. Miller
They needed for him to be scary and the
parents got what they asked for, but they would also be scared. He was conceived on Halloween out of love and fear, but he
was not anxious to be part of the world and was born late in mid August, on the night of the 13th. Halloween night and during
the pregnancy the mother drank poisons and potions so he would be especially unusual. These substances would enhance certain
natural features of his. Later they would be supernatural features if developed successfully. He was an odd boy who would
not fit in. He would have birth defects and odd skin colorations.
The parents, Adelma and Rick, dressed in
black, dyed their hair black, and followed the dark ways of the Old World. They were demonologists who worshipped the demon
Azeroth. They had big plans for their child who they named Azeal. He could be a voice for this unknown sect of people. He
would understand the importance of celebrating the old ways. He could maintain the traditions of sadism and masochism. Pain
taught humility. Pain taught connectiveness.
They lived in an isolated house in a dark
wood that was only accessible by a dirt road. Rick was a farmer, and Adelma was an artist and craftswoman. They sold their
goods in town. Adelma cashed in around Halloween with her jewelry, while Rick sold mushrooms, odd herbs and other things that
he could propagate in the forest.
Azeal was sheltered from mainstream society,
he was left alone to consider the lessons he was taught by Adelma and Rick. He grew up outside of society. He would have a
connection with the natural world, rather the human community. He could judge society as an outsider, as an objective individual.
This would help him spread the word of Azeroth, an unfortunate loser in the battle that was waged between the forces of good
an evil. He would be a general in this old fight, this travesty of history: the unrelenting battle which took precedence over
He could assert the interests of those who
found meaning in the old ways, the old teachings. When he stopped thinking he could hear music in his mind. The music was
from either South America or the Middle East. He was not part of mainstream American society, but he would need to speak their
language. He would need to convince them that the old ways were effective. He would need to understand the shortcomings of
society. He would need to understand their pain and their failings. But they were of another world, they were followers of
the Christ. They had a way of life to follow, a way of life that made sense to those whose worked and struggled to be good.
He would have to teach that bad was good,
that selfishness was truth. That avarice and greed, even for the right reasons, was acceptable. It was okay to want. It was
okay to be bad or selfish. If people were expected to be selfish they would be more likely to be happy with leaders who understood
this. He would be selfish and espouse a philosophy of selfishness. This was more honest. Do what is right for yourself. At
least with this in the public mind people would be reacting to peoples needs and concerns.
Azeal was a Halloween lovechild, with the
deformed features to announce it. There were dark hairy patches of skin on his mostly hairless white body. His nose appeared
as if it was broken, even though it never had been. One of his eyes was blue, the other green. People were bound to be scared,
but maybe they would feel relived or free of the shackles of morality. He was on a dark path, and many were free to join him
in this painful, personal or selfish path. He would talk of the dead and dark ways. He would provide an alternative, dark,
and maybe more truthful vision. This was his birthright. This was his mission. To be a Halloween child, to be a messenger
and servant of the dark and selfish.
An “eye for an eye”, do it first,
“take no prisoners”, “better it happened to them then yourself”, “that’s their problem”,
and “respect the wicked”. He would be a lightning rod for the disenfranchised. He would explain and announce their
pain. This was his birthright. People would think twice about crossing him because he was born on the 13th.
At first he did not know how to control
or convince people, but Adelma reminded him that he needed to understand people’s needs and pain. He needed to understand
their situation, so he could improve their situation. He would have a better chance to do so because he was selfish.
Selflessness was also for others. If he
expected his followers to be selfless he would be unsuccessful, he would be insincere. He needed to speak to people’s
needs and desires. The world had become dark and dangerous, and his parents had prepared him for this. He was born on the
13th, one who chose not to follow the unsuccessful dozen. He would provide an alternative vision. A vision which
was based on mutual suffering and pain.
But how would he convince this dark swarm,
this dark minion? Should he tell them that they are not part of the earth, that there was no heaven or salvation. He could
understand their pain and alienation, he could sanctify their desires. His parents prepared him for this dark road.
But how could he reach the masses? How could
he connect with so many others? He decided to write poetry. He decided to communicate as an artist. He would take the risk,
he would send the message. He was ready to send his message in his mid twenties.
Members of the sect had been waiting many
years for him to be ready to speak. They built a church in the country next to a stagnant stream. The walls were dark, and
there was a painting which told the story of the demon Azeroth who fought for a more personal and selfish code of behavior.
Many had read the poems of his childhood: the dark longings, the anger, the interest in feeling and inflicting pain. They
would scream and break things in their services. They would initiate the newcomers in the pleasures of pain. He had become
part of a larger fragile community.
Azeal would need to figure out a way to
make their arguments inspirational to mainstream society. They would need to find the funding to send the message to the masses.
They decided to send people books. He would write books of their dark philosophy. Azeal’s church was scorned by Christian
society, but the notoriety brought interested souls to Azeal’s parish.
“They have not told you the truth.
They have not shown you the way,” Azeal would say to the newcomers.
His flock grew, and there were many artists,
writers and poets among them. The Azeroth Ministry tried to find members all over the world. Azeal was launching a movement,
but he met someone who change him forever.
Hope, a young svelte woman with white hair,
moved South to be part of his flock. Azeal noticed her and asked what her story had been. She told him that she sought to
escape the hypocrisy of the north. He told her on the day that he met her that he would like to hear about her struggles,
and that he wanted her to be on the path that he was taking his flock upon.
They would meet for dessert after he gave
his midnight talks. They would drink chocolate wine and talk about the dark ways of nature.
“There was no future for me in the
north,” Hope was telling him one evening.
“Our ways are better,” said
“People must find the ways that suit
them,” said Hope.
“Our path is suited for those who
respect their own desires. For those who trust the dark side of their nature,” said Azeal.
Sometimes they would inflict pain upon each
other. Azeal had small whips and pinchers.
“You know you would make a great psycho,
born of the 13th and all,” said Hope.
“You think so,” said Azeal beaming
with a smile.
“You have enough friends so that you
would not even need to get your hands dirty. There would be plenty of people who would do it for you,” said Hope.
Hope eventually convinced him to let her
explore his skin. She was planning to draw a map of its odd colorations and hairy spots.
“What happened to you?”
“My mother wanted me to be unusual.
She wanted me to be odd, to be able to connect with the darkness in the natural world. She took potions and herbs while I
grew in her. I can hear the wind in a closed room. I can hear the animals and trees talking amongst themselves.”
“Can you teach me how to do that.”
“I was born with the ability. Close
your eyes and listen.”
Hope tried, but she could not hear the wild
“It is a gift that I have.”
Hope was sad, but she smiled anyway.
“You cannot give me everything can
“No, but I can give you a hickey.”
Azeal walked towards her menacingly, and
Hope chose not to run. She smiled and offered her neck.
The flock noticed that they spent a lot
of time together, and wondered if he would have a child with her. They called her the ghost because of her white hair and
pale complexion. Azeal had changed. He no longer seemed meek, but full of warmth and fury. He also had a swagger about him.
“I have gone to the forest today.
No odd rules, no unrealistic expectations. Just life surviving and taking advantage of its situation. The sun and the ground
feed the plants. The plants feed on bugs which are fed on by the animals which eat eachother. This natural process to survive,
to strive is inherent in all living things. It is not morality but wildness that should guide our course,” Azeal told
“Yeah,” said Hope.
The congregation tried to hold back a smirk.
When they met later that night, Hope told
him that she wished to bear him a child.
“We will be like the creatures
of the forest. We will create progeny. We will continue to populate the forest with crying voices.”
“The human cry is sincere,”
That night they drank deep of the chocalate
wine and wrapped themselves in each other’s arms.
“You have done this before?”
“Does it matter?” said Hope.
“Yes, and no,” said Azeal.
“I have experimented so that I could
better please,” said Hope.
Azeal smirked, but he found her beguiling.
“Let us proceed in this sanctified
act,” said Azeal.
Though they tried Azeal could not impregnate
Hope. She suggested that maybe she should try with another, but Azeal grew angry.
“We need to try some more,”
Azeal eventually grew jealous of Hope, who
began being friendly with other members of the flock. He knew that she may try to get impregnated by another and say that
it was his child. This did not seem so unusual, actually it was a practical solution, but Azeal kept a closer eye upon her.
Rick and Adelma let him know that this may
occur. Rick would smirk. Adelma was somber and serious about the matter.
“She was your first. You may want
to try with another,” advised Adelma.
“I love her. I do not know if I can
love another,” said Azeal.
“Maybe you should try. If you really
love her the child will still be yours,” said Rick.
“This is a indignity I will not stand
for,” said Azeal.
“Try these herbs,” said the
Azeal brought Hope the herbs, and she agreed
to try them. For months they tried without success. Eventually Hope told him that she needed to leave the flock, and return
to the north.
“But you are my life. You are my future,”
“I need to have a child. I cannot
have one here,” said Hope.
“But there are things that we have
“I have tried things that I have not
“Have you been with others.”
“That is my business. I must go.”
Azeal stood up angrily.
“Don’t strike me. I will leave,”
“But I need you.”
“Your pain will pass. There are things
that I need. I will return to the north.”
Without telling many people she packed up
and left for the north the following week.
“I will not be in contact so the pain
will not last as long,” she told Azeal.
“The pain will remind of the wonderous
times we had.”
The flock noticed the change in Azeal. He
was more intense and more earnest. He was in more pain. A member of the flock questioned him while he was giving a talk one
It was Gaspar who looked familiar to him.
“What about freedom? Why did you not
let Hope have a child with another?”
Azeal grew angry.
“That is not the way children should
be born. Children need to have a sense of belonging.”
“But that is against your teaching
of freedom and wildness,” argued Gaspar.
“You challenge me because you are
a bastard. I do not want my child to be a son of a bitch.”
The flock shuddered at the impact of his
“If it was true love you will not
“That is my decision.”
“Me and Hope, we tried to help you.”
Azeal walked towards him with a metal rod
in his hand.
“We have all followed you Azeal. She
left because she was carrying my child and you would not understand. We have built our lives on the frameworks of your teaching.
You hurt us be not being flexible enough to understand the pain that we need to endure.”
“We are not anarchists Gaspar,”
“Your teachings are false,”
“They are part of a continuum. I have
given these teachings new voice in these times.”
“There were modern ways in which you
could have had children. I will also not choose to be part of this.”
“Where would you go?”
“You are not the only one who has
The crowd circled around them, making a
space for them to converse directly.
“We will not let you leave. You will
hurt the movement. You will hurt the flock.”
Gaspar stood up as strait as he could.
“Do you think you can stop me?”
said Gaspar with an angry smile.
“You are rocking the boat. We need
to work together to survive.”
“She is carrying my child, not yours.”
Adelma walked towards them.
“Let him go,” she said.
“He has made a monster of out me,”
“I made you a monster so that you
would understand others like yourself. We are all monsters,” said Adelma.
“You can do to others the things that
were done to you,” said Rick.
“Everybody is cool about everybody
being bad, but I am going to start doing you good. That will throw things out of whack. That will see to it that things did
not go as planned,” said Gaspar.
“You will not leave this room alive,”
The crowd moved in around them to surround
“She loved me. You must have forced
her,” said Azeal.
One man grabbed Gaspar’s arm. Another
punched him in the stomach. Gaspar fell on his knees in pain.
“I did not decide this fate. Who were
you to pick this ghastly fate for me?” Garpar yelled.
“We all did. You ruined the few beautiful
things we shared,” said Azeal now standing over him with a metal rod.
“We shared beautiful things too,”
The rod came down and a pool of greyish
blood formed around where Gaspar lay on the floor.
Azeal hit him again where he lay on the
Azeal then screamed so loud the windows
The crowd stepped back shocked.
“I will take responsibility for the
children of the flock. From now on they will all be my children,” said Azeal.
Most of the flock looked scared, but a few
of the women were smirking.
“Can I say he is my kid? I want to
say he is my kid,” Rick asked Adelma.
“Yes, he takes after you,” she
“Wild, dangerous, great! That’s
my kid,” Rick said.
Copyright Ryder W. Miller 2005