Release Through Subjugation
An Existential Horror Story
You didn’t want to obey, you resisted. But you should not resist any humiliation. You should accept the injustice, since Abraxas wants to knead you into people like yeast into flour.” ~Jung’s Soul, The Black Books, Vol. VI, Page 217
The new vessel is you, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it. You feel a little bit like something was stolen from you, but that’s not right. This was an exchange that you made willingly, you even signed a contract.
You look in the mirror and you still see yourself, maybe it was all a dream and nothing more.
It was a late night. You knew you had to be up early the next day, but you just got off a late shift and all your cells were buzzing, vibrating fast enough to destabilize you on a molecular level.
You tried laying down and turning off the lights, but nothing magic happened. You don’t remember thinking anything during those endless dark hours, but it was about three when the magic started to happen and you saw a figure materialize in the dark at the foot of your bed. A man, statuesque, beautiful, shaped like a hero in a renaissance painting. He was nude, but thankfully and frighteningly inhuman; the lower half of his body was all scales. Instead of legs he stood on two green serpents. A black, armored tail with a hooked stinger swerved behind him, curling up around his shoulder. His head was crowned with unruly blonde hair and his eyes were blue, shining like stars buried in the bottom of the sea. His whole form shined, but not in such a way that it diminished the three a.m darkness. He shined on his own, as though he existed on a seperate layer of reality.
“Good morning.” said the shining man.
You sat up slowly, oddly unafraid, and fumbled for words, “It’s um . . .”
“Yes. Three. The witching hour. Morning, by your arbitrary human laws. And perhaps a new dawn for you.”
He presented a contract, made his pitch, and you eventually signed away your body. Why did you do that? How did he persuade you? You don’t really remember.
It was probably just a dream, right? That kind of thing doesn’t happen, and that’s not the kind of thing you would do. You love your body, love your life, you wouldn’t invite some spooky sleep paralysis demon into your heart!
Anyway, you’ve been looking in the mirror for 15 minutes now. You have to get moving or you’ll be late for work!
You brush your teeth, wash your face, forget to eat breakfast, and rush to your car. You speed all the way to your job and you almost crash into a minivan when you turn away to skip an add on spotify.
You get to work five minutes late but you skillfully avoid your boss. You find your place and get to work, and predictably, your stomach starts growling. Dejected, you lean back in your seat, but there’s an unexpected weight in your pocket. What is that? An apple? You don’t remember pocketing an apple, but you’re really thankful you have something to eat.
It’s still dark as you stare out the window and bite into your fruit. It tastes really sweet.
You try not to stare at the girl who walks by you every morning to get to her desk, but she’s hard to look away from, and this moment of stillness is the only moment in the day you have a chance to interact with her. She has a plain kind of beauty to her face and form, and there’s something indescribable about the way she walks that projects her attitude. One time, you could have sworn she looked back at you.
“Hey,” you say as her sun reaches your planetary perihelion.
She turns, looks at you, and smiles. Her teeth are a bit crooked, but that smile warms your soul, “Hi.” She says, and keeps walking.
You feel a little better about the desolate landscape of your upcoming workday, but when did you get so brave?
You are not so exhausted. You feel at peace. Your eyes feel a bit heavy, and time is moving quickly today. You could have sworn you drifted off to sleep while you were working, but when you look at your work, it’s all done with intense precision, close to perfect.
You can’t help but think back to that weird dream you had last night about the man with the sad, sunken blue eyes. He seemed so confident, but so very sad.
You take a minute to stare out the window and watch the sun slowly rise over the purple horizon.
Maybe you’ll let yourself drift off to sleep for the rest of the day.
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