A Day int the LIfe of the Prince

He wept all alone in the corner of his magnificent castle. The room was very neatly arranged and obviously with good taste. Some of the best pieces of work had been bought by him from Christie’s. People never realized nor did they care about who bought them or where they went. But he had all of them arranged in their frames aesthetically in this room. This was his private lounge. It was perpetually dark, he seemed to love darkness. He found it more natural. He very often said “You see light is artificial, there has to something to provide you with light but darkness well even God could not create it. It was always there just waiting for the light to go out. You could remove the light but you could not remove the dark, it would always sneak in”. The place was so silent, so beautiful that he always came to contemplate and occasionally cry in this room.

His name was Lucifer, though most people better knew him as Satan or by his title The Prince of Darkness. And no, his favorite number was not 666, it was 2. There was no particular reason for this; it was just arbitrarily his favorite number. And no, he didn’t have horns or a tail, though he wore them when he felt like going old school with his newer entries. Ruling a sad place like hell had worn him down. He wanted a break; he wanted to stay for a few days, away from this misery, this silence. It overwhlemed him.He hadn't always been so alone. Once the closest to God, he now lay forsaken in his kingdom. To have been amongst the chosen few of Lord himself and then to live in such a cold place, broke him. Sometimes, even after so many years, he dreamt he was back with his father in heaven, tucked near him, listening to a bed time story. He pondered when in his life had he become the villain of those tales.He still cried in his dreams over the beauty he was missing. He hadn't always been so alone. God himself had kept him company many a times when he felt alone, and now in this giant mansion he felt like a brick himself. It seemed he was there just because the mason had nothing better to put there. This facade of evilness was eroding the core of his heart, which was not completely dark yet. He wanted to run away but where he had no clue. He had no friends, no relatives he could go to. The dark clouds were covering the sun, but somehow a few sunrays still gleamed from that core.

Heaven was no longer as merciful as it had been. This had happened ever since God had appointed Peter to be the guardian of those pearly gates. He lighted a cigarette. He loved smoking when he was all alone, it calmed him,thought he never did so in public. He didn’t want people to die prematurely and not get their complete life duration to live. He wanted to give people every second of their lives so that they could do a good deed, so that they could repent and not have to come to such a poignant place. The smoke cleared his head, sobered him down. He had left drinking ever since his wife had left him. Though he had tried to hold on to her on virtue of his being the sole authority of this inferno, he had let her go realizing all the powers of hell were not enough to please a women when she did not love you, for hell hath no fury like a woman scorn’d. Ah! The happy moments he had with his wife still lingered fresh in his mind, her sweet smell, and her rosy lips all felt so delightful in such a place. He wished he had not been so busy back then with all that job of re-arranging everything in hell. How he wished she could be here. That someone cared for him was all he longed for in this inferno.

A knock on the door woke him up from his day dreaming, and Mephisto walked in announcing that his daily speech was due in 15 minutes. The routine speech about repentance, to give the poor souls one more chance to make it to heaven, was one of the most interesting times of his daily fixture.He could act the way he was meant to be, a lone soul with a wosh to help others. He stood up from his armchair with a sigh and walked out of the room, with a sly smile on his face for that was what the crowd expected from him and as was very well known in private circles he always kept what he promised. He gently closed the door of the room leaving behind him his feelings for he knew they were safely locked in. No one cared, and he knew he wasn’t worth being cared about.