Alliance Assignment: 72 Virgins

It's been a while since I've completed an assignment for the Alliance of Free Blogs.
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!!!Ka-BOOM!!!

Omar's last thought was, "I should not have crossed those wir..." Then, everything was eradicated in single bright burst, an instant of searing pain, and finally darkness.

He floated. The substance buoying him up was warm and viscous. He opened his eyes, and was greeted by a pleasant radiance, as of sunlight muted beyond lattice screens. The air on his face was warm. He lifted his hand, and saw that it was bathed in red. He raised it to his lips, and tasted...

Blood.

He sat up at once, the bright red splashing. Why, he was in a pool of it! A deep pool, as for bathing! He cast around, alarmed. Had he been unclean at the moment of death? He had made all the proper prayers, called out God's greatness, and meditated on the proper method of sacrifice before he set to work on the bomb jackets...

"Allahu..." he began.

"No need," a voice interrupted.

Omar turned. A tall man stood in the doorway, dressed as one of the faithful, his hair and beard thick and luxuriant. This stranger bowed, spreading his hands, "Welcome, warrior. Your time has ended. You have sacrificed yourself in the name of jihad."

"I have come to paradise?" Omar gasped, and then a radiant smile crossed his features, "Oh, God is..."

"You are in the paradise you earned," the stranger interrupted, but gently. "Come. You have bathed in the blood of jihadi martyred in the cause. Now we will prepare you for your other rewards."

"Who are you?" Omar asked as he fell in step with this tall, elegant man. "Muhammed?" He felt a spreading sort of joy; a weakness in his knees. O, to have come to the kingdom of God at last! Here he would dwell in peace forever. Had he not sacrificed every earthly pleasure for this day? Had he not fought to press the message of Submission upon the world? Now was the prize, just as the mullahs had said. Here would he be in Paradise, to rest under the swaying trees, and eat the sweet dates, drink the celestial joy, and know the pleasures of women beautiful beyond the ken of men.

"All will be made clear shortly," his companion said, interrupting his thoughts. "Enter this room. I shall be along soon."

Omar bowed to the Prophet, for this calm, wise-eyed man could be no other. Upon entering the room, he was greeted by veiled women, their eyes dark and flashing as gems behind their modest dress. Men came then, to take him aside and bathe him, while the women brought light raiment, and set to washing his feet and anointing his head.

The oils they rubbed into his scalp and flesh were oddly pungent. They ruffled his nostrils, even though the servants seemed untroubled. He thought, "Perhaps it is because my nose is unused to heavenly odors. No doubt I shall become accustomed to it in time."

He was taken into another room, and laid upon a bed hung with silk. The servants stepped back, out of the way. Wonderingly, Omar settled back among the pillows, and looked around. A tray of food was brought, laden with dates, nuts, cheese, and bread. Rich, red wine was poured into a golden cup.

"Eat. Drink." The Prophet stepped into the room. "It is no longer forbidden." He bore a carved wooden box in his hands. "Do you find this place to be to your liking?"

"Very much," Omar responded with enthusiasm. He leaned forward, almost upsetting the tray beside him, "But I have so many questions I wish to ask of you..."

"They will all be answered," The Prophet responded. "Only drink."

Omar lifted the cup, and saluted the Prophet with it, "I drink to you," he said, "I drink to the glory of this place, and the might of its Master. All your teachings, they never betrayed us." He drank deep of the wine, and thought it tasted strange; smoky and thick on his tongue. Then, the pain and horror suffused him. His eyes bulged. His gorge caught in his throat. His face reddened, and he started sucking in breath before loosing an unending, ragged scream.

"Actually," Lucifer whispered, "All my teaching have betrayed you, and now you are mine forever." He motioned to one of the women, revealed as a succubus with a whip coiled on her curving hip. "Take the Cup of Sorrow away." He nodded to one of the men, a demon with curving horns. "Bring me the virgins."

Lucifer laid Omar back with a terrible gentleness. The bed was also revealed in truth: nails pierced the erstwhile terrorist's back. Too gently, he ran his hand over the condemned man's staring face. The screaming subsided, and Omar looked up at the Prince of Darkness with eyes that finally knew the truth.

"It was but a game of mine," Lucifer told him. "Islam. Submission. That should have been your first clue, for the God of creation imbued mankind with inalienable liberties, among those free will. Anyone who uses fear or promises of rewards hereafter to make you behave are lying to you. It's simple to see, really, but it's been quite effective. Man is so easily controlled through fear that they will betray anyone; anything.

"I needed tools that would fight to destroy the seed of Yahweh's chosen people. Who better than the scriptural offspring of an estranged brother? Who better to set an example for them than a delusional pedophile? You have served me well, even if you failed. The Hebrew people will continue to the end of the world. Nevertheless, I need armies to fight Him, regardless of the outcome."

He paused, opening the box, regarding its contents with an expression bordering on pensive, "The true irony of all of this is that there really is more than one path for a soul to follow. My war with Yahweh, that is only one truth. There are other truths, but I don't expect you to understand that right now. Perhaps you will, later on." He carried the box over with reverence. "It is my role in this universe to be the manifestation of evil. Man has given me many names, across time and space." He dipped his fingers into the box, and began sprinkling its contents over Omar's naked skin. Omar's eyes widened, and he drew breath for renewed screaming. Lucifer's eyes flashed a warning, and Omar bit back his horror, whimpering with the strain.

Lucifer continued, his voice still horrifically gentle. "You served me well in life, Omar. You murdered, tortured, and raped. You committed every heinous act you could think of, in the name of God's glory. You merely misunderstood the greater truth. Every act of kindness, generosity, and love is His. Every act of hatred, deliberate destruction, and betrayal are mine. You are mine, and I deliver the rewards promised you." Lucifer finished emptying the sickening, squirming mass onto Omar's bare skin.

He could hold it back no longer. He broke into fresh screams as the insects began burrowing into his chest, his belly; his thighs, arms and groin. Lucifer, latterly called Satan, smiled with satisfaction. "Your seventy-two virgins," he commented. "They're a particular type of flesh-eating beetle I subverted to my use. They use parthenogenesis to propagate. You should have studied zoology."

He turned, and glided toward the door, gesturing. One of the attending succubi came to him, leaning her body against his. He ran one finger down the side of her face before slapping her away. He pointed to her cat o'nine tails, and then to Omar. She smiled, and began to unwind the sharp coils.

Before he exited, he spared one glance over his shoulder, "Oh, Omar?" Mere groans answered him. Satan's smile turned vindictive, "Welcome to Hell."

posted by Linda on February 18, 2004 07:39 PM

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