Sins of flesh and sweet delights: Amar
A short story about a casted out god who is still bitter about it
" May you suffer in flesh and blood; may your body rot by my mother hand for all eternity as I watch in absolute delight as you suffer by your own hand. And I will watch you pave” – Atlas
The bitterness of dark, rich chocolate coats the back of my throat. The taste lingers on my tongue long enough to crave more. the figs and grapes lay before me on the rickety old table; wood decayed from exposure to the world. A useless shrine to a sin. A sin that does not even apply to humanity. Just me. My body twisted from self mutilation from attempts to make myself less human. yet no matter how many bones I snap, muscles torn and organs ripped and body parts moved. It will not be enough.
Punished with the curse to be trapped in a body. A body that will never die. A body that can be twisted and mangled that will never give away. it will encase me, suffocate me with flesh and bone. squeezing my whole being into a small encasing that will forever feel tight, forever suffocated and smothered and gasping to breath. I take a fig; my clawed fingers piercing into the fruits flesh before bringing it to my mouth. Teeth sinking into the ripened fruit and taking in the delights of the sweetness. Juices dripping down my chin as I relish in the offering.
My title of God taken from me long ago. My name taken, a name I once use to hear being sung from mighty temples and offerings of gold and incense in bulk. I was mighty. Mightier than the others. I was strength. I was power, and it was stripped from me. taken by the jealousy of gods and goddesses who I was once amongst. They sneered at me with envy for my power and they stripped me to this. They made me into this. They made me nothing and taken everything. Now I sit here, instead of lavish silks I sit upon mossy tree roots, behind a small wooden table with nothing but figs, grapes, bitter chocolates, and cheap incense burned. A wooden cup of honey milk sat with the small plate of offerings.
it was nothing compared to what I had before
For now, however, it will suffice. The small gathering now my only thing close to a following. Yet their prayers and offerings felt empty. They believed me to be a god that does not exist. Giving me offerings in hopes in of blessings. They call me a name is not mine. Osis. A god that does not exist. They ask me for blessings that I cannot grant.
'' will you cure my sister from Assiah's decay? she suffers from from rotting legs where the bones have begun to show.'' A little girl asks, her eyes were wide with hope as she lights cheap pachouli. An incense that I fucking despise and forced to take. My teeth rip into the last bite of sweet fig.
''Your sister will be healed in time. Do what must be done to save her body and soul from the decay.'' I hum, if they were smart, they will cut the rot from that poor human's body. The decay will spread until it takes root in their soul. A prayer to a sin will not cure her of rot. She hums in satisfaction before turning to leave the table. The last of the small gathering to go. Leaving me to indulge in a false god's gifts. I spit out a bad bite from my mouth, a hand from many plucks the patchouli incense form from its holder before putting it out on the wooden offering plate. Discarding the stick into foliage. A sigh escaped my lips before consuming more
Eating my fill and finishing it off the the wooden cup of honey milk before returning to the forest. My body carrying me as fast as it could being pulled and dragged as I continued. Fucking gods. Pathetic gods. When I first arrived onto this forsaken realm I looked like the other mortals. Soft and delicate. I could hide amongst them, but the fact I looked like them made my skin crawl and stomach sick. It was as if I was wrapped in plastic wrap, my skeleton itched beneath the skin as I was constantly aware of my organs within. Each twitch of my nerves and the sensation of flesh on me made me feel constricted. Breathing burned and hunger gnawed at me.
I was in man's domain. For eternity.
For the rest of my existence, I am here. In this fleshy cage that will never die. I despised it looking like looking them. My bone structure matching those lesser than. It made me sick; it made me angry, violated to be come lesser than what I was. I was cattle to the gods' whims. I was apart of a realm that was inflicted by torment for the sake of it by those above them, and I was subjected to it. They made me to nothing but sin and to experience constant torment.
The only sin to the gods is flesh.
It disgusts them, they have deep, rooted hatred towards it. It is a sin that they only uphold to each other. They threaten it on occasion to each other, to drag each other down to this vile realm and become flesh. Inflicting their own version of justice on each other. The sin they inflicted upon me; I now only have two things that belong to me.
The first was a name, Amar. the Second was a title, The sin of flesh.
Even then, those two things are just reminders of what has been done to me. my name origins from blood and my tile a declaration. Something to torment me with. They torment me with twisted laughs and smiles or grant me mercy of ignoring my existence, only willing to play with me to remind me of my torturing existence. reminding me of the sin I am burdened to carry. the flesh that I carry upon me is heavy on my very essence.
They tell me I am an example. An example to those who defy them, I was the first to descend from my godhood and the last as those who did after were simply wiped from existence. Nothing remaining of their glory and what they stood for. None subjected to what has come to me. I envy those who have been sent to the void than this fate.
I linger a little more in the forests, my arms outstretched as they pull the rest of my body along the earth. My lungs burned as I dragged myself across the woodland floor. My legs still regenerating from this morning's mutilation. This was my life, this life that I did not even want. My existence belongs elsewhere, not here. Eventually I reach it.
The old temple of one of the gods.
It was covered in moss and vines, but regardless of the temple’s abandonment they still linger. As essence of themselves is left there. The pull is less strong due to the temple no longer having regular visits, but none the less they will know. They know when someone is there. I pull myself onto the stone platform. Ah yes, this place is familiar. It was built for a celestial whose vessel was massive. One when they were new to their existence. Reaping chaos and havoc. Destroying their own temples and consuming everything alive and breathing. All that was alive and near them were prey. Born from rot and decay, trapped in dimension left to starve by their own creator. once they escaped, to a world full all they could want and desire.
And all they wanted was to eat.
their starvation prevailed all senses, their hunger consumed their mind and soul, and it was truly a sight to behold. Their mother looked down upon them in disgust at her only creation. she wanted nothing to do with it. I remember the screams of those who served them, fellow man tied them down to be fed to the very thing they worshipped. A Ruthlessness that was as bad as Talia's temperament. Yet they calmed after a few centuries. Their hunger still not satisfied but no longer acting like an animal, leaving behind the remains of their worshippers. Long being consumed by the very thing they loved. I lay on the platform and take in the cool sensations of stone. The wetness of moss and leaves stuck to my back. The smell of earth with ancient blood still linger sin the air.
''you can hear me. If not, you know I am here. I hear you have a new temple now.'' A smile spreads across my face. They will repeat their mistakes.
It is in their nature.
The sky above me was grey and cloudy, the air cooling by the day. How long have they had their new temple now? a century or two now? they are bound to repeat the cycle once more. For the gods to be disgusted by their onslaught once more. the blood that will stain their decorated temple walls. Spreading to the city. A city full of blood to satisfy their desire. It is in their bones and blood. It is ingrained into them. Something they will forever be bound to. They will devour the city their vessel lives in, it is only a matter of time. A matter of when.
the wind howls through the trees, they groan and creak as they sway. the sky predicts a storm; the sky grows angry as I lay on the old temple. I am met with silence like always. This deity was one of the few that ignored my existence. they despise me of course; I remind them of the sin they committed. I will admit they too disgust me. The other gods are conflicted with them. The gods whisper behind their back, with opinions and rumours and all sorts of stories.
'' still ignoring me?'' a smile appears on my face, I picked a bad day to speak at their old temple. It is their day of worship. The day the city comes to shower them with affection and gifts. They dress their vessel in lavish silks and gold. Their disciples dressed to their liking as well. it is their moment. The moment when all eyes of the mortal city are on them. The attention and affection, they will drown themselves in it.
"No matter doesn't matter if you respond. We both know you turn a blind eye towards those like me." I wait for a sign, a sign that they hear me. Maybe this time they will listen to my words for once. Of course, though, as I listen to the rustling of leaves and the whistling of wind there was nothing. prying my body off the stone slab I stare up into the sky, my body aching with each muscle movement.
"Oh, come on...I know you're not that busy, all you do is sit in that vessel of yours."
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