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The Death Of Kyros


He rolled the cigar between his slim long fingers. He twirled it around twice and slipped it between his lips. He walked to the window and lit the cigar. He took a luxurious drag, a spark of fire leapt into his cold brown eyes as he watched the pandemonium on earth. It had been told that a confrontation would ensue. Now, it was time.
 
Fire rained upon the dry earth, parched it, razed all and sundry. Blood flowed as rivers. Mankind was bent on obliterating itself; with it rip the fabric of creation. God’s greatest creation was now the devil’s to toy with. Man’s free will had taken him to the brink of destruction and beyond. Judgment day was upon man.
 
He trotted into the blinding brilliance of the haven. The exotic life all around withered at his very touch. His a aura of triumph and malice cast a shadow over the paradise, distorting the very existence of divinity. He slithered to the abode of the creator. He had decimated his father’s creation; now all that was left was to savor the nectar of triumph.
 
“How have you been son?”
 
“Oh! Very well actually, banishment from your paradise has been an interesting experience and I have to say I have come to like the warmth of the lake of fire. Also twisting and corrupting men has been a very amusing task, pathetic creatures that they are.”
 
“I see you have sown the seeds of chaos on earth.”
 
“Chaos would be an understatement. My flames are the fires that consume earth; I have raised the lake of fire from the very depths of hell to destroy your imitation of paradise. I figured expanding out would really help, it getting cramped down there.”
 
“You seen to believe that the race of men has decayed beyond salvation. I have to say you remain a naïve little brat.”
 
“That might be true, but man was doomed the very day Adam fell to my whispers and defied the one restriction you placed on him. “
 
   An awkward silence ensued, as two mighty powers inspected each other with an inexplicable air of ease. There was no real hostility, but the silence would have weighed heavy on any bystander crushing him with an incomprehensible fear. Satan broke the silence.
 
“If you’re wondering why I’m bent upon destroying man, it has got nothing to do with your little test of loyalty. I have long transcended the realm of vengeance, surpassed the humiliation of being asked to bow down to a lump of clay. I know I’m superior to man in all aspects and that what really matters to me now.  Now it’s all just senseless destruction unshackled by chains of reason and logic, it is my most artistic creation.” 
“Burn son, burn the race of men, and every time they will rise from the ashes purified by your flame.”
 
“Don’t kid yourself. My flames are now mine. They are no longer the holy flame from which you conceived me. They are now the flames of my malice. It’s the flame that will char humanity, and shred it of its very reason and will. My flames are now my tool of destruction, not your test of loyalty and perseverance.”
 
“You speak as if you have traversed beyond my perception of the universe. You speak as if you have now the ability to create from your own will, to conjure everything from nothing.”

 “Creation is an act of independent thought, of free will, of all the things pure and naïve that you stand for.  You faith in man, faith of the fact that his faith in you will persevere, is my loophole. Banal, mundane, fear driven social creature that he is, all that he needs to be shown is that there is a power more potent that his ‘almighty’.  And then my flames will rise to consume your utopian havens, and I will drag you to the depths of my hell, to an exile far worse that my own. So wait father, wait patiently for your son to surpass you.”

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Vakul Mohanty
A metal-head who's wants to do pursue a Ph.D Currently studying Biology & Comp Sc. at BITS,Pilani - Hyderabad Campus, his life-long ambition is to become a professor and wear shorts to work.


 

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