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Disclaimer: I own this piece of fiction, and it comes entirely from my imagination. If this poem sounds like any other, it is purely coincidental. The use of Abel and Cain is from the bible.
Authors Note: I submit this piece of fiction for you to read. Please note that this is rated by Fiction Press and you should decide whether to read it accordingly. For the people who read it please review when you’re finished.
AN: I know this is my first actual story in a long line of poems, but I would be really really really grateful if someone could just tell me what they think of it. Be warned: use of swearing and graphic details is included!
Abel and Cain : I Fucking Hate You
I feel like smiling in joy as my tearing fingers reach across for your throat. Feel the muscles and flesh tearing apar beneath my itching fingers. Watching the tendons part company. Seeing your eyes roll back into their sockets, as the blood rushes out and pumps from gushing arteries onto the floor. I'd watch you writhing in your own blood upon the floor and throw my head back. Let the laughter come forth, pouring through my body and filling my mind with savage joy. Oh yes. You heard right. Don't try to appeal to my better instincts, to my sense of 'right' and 'wrong'. At the moment I have no morals. No sense of shame. Let it come later after I have torn my vengeance from you and your pathetic body. Let the weight of the sentence lie on 'torn'. Peeling back your skin from the muscle. Tearing chunks of that same muscle away for the flies to gather and eat. Snapping, splintering bones beneath my loving gaze. Tearing out your eyelashes, wishing sadistically for you to live a little longer. Just a little longer. So that I may extract every bit of pain possible from what is left of you. Make you beg for survival. Terrify you until the last lingering remaints of your sanity dissappear. Maybe then I'll be satisfied. Maybe the my bloodlust will be sated, appeased.
You can be my sacrifice. You'll like that, and if you don't, well, it doesn't matter much. It's not like your opinion counts for much, after all, is it? Just mine. I'm the god around here. Yes, I could laugh as finally your silly illusions about the deity in the sky are wiped away. I am the god around here, you see. Master of all I survey, which includes you. I can do anything I fucking want. Then we'll see who'll be laughing then. Yes, we'll see. It'll be ME who'll feel that adrenaline rush of power as your life hangs beneath my feet. ME who decides whether the pain will be fast or slow. ME who your life will depend on. Do you sense the power that flows through my immortal veins? Probably not. You always were so slow, so stupid. It made me so angry that your brain couldn't comprehend how so much more perfect I was than you. It's easy to see now, isn't it? After all, I am the one pulling off your fingers, roasting them so the scent of burning flesh pervades this room. For the world has contracted, spinning slowly, to this one room. You should be proud of yourself really, I am giving your death so much of my time and attention; you should really feel honoured. No? Oh well. Whether you know it or not, I am the only one who matters now. My thoughts, my feelings. And right now I FEEL that your ears are tempting. I think I'll cut them off with a rusty knife, so the pain is slow and long. What should I do with your severed ears? I'll take an example from a famous artist, I'll send them to your family. Wonder what they'll think when they find their son's bloody ear in an envelope? What do you think, my little brother?
Oh little brother. Do you feel sorry now? Do you finally feel shame and guilt at what you inflicted on me? Well, it's ok. No need for guilt or shame. For I have banished them. I have set things right now. Balanced the pain and anger I felt so long ago, for you feel them now. Don't you see? Life IS fair after all. What goes around comes around, doesn't it, my dear brother? Karma, and all that shit. I have extracted my vengeance from your pain. I feel so healthy now, relieved, at peace almost. I have found 'closure' as some people would have it known. But don't worry, I won't kill you immediately. I still have some sense of family. I could laugh but I'll keep it in. 'Cause you don't know I'm your brother, do you? Your own long-lost blood-brother. Oh, how just the word "blood" makes me smile. Let us see some of the blood that you and I suppodedly share. I admit I have changed since you saw me last, but still. No real excuse on your part but laziness. The bond of DNA should still be there somewhere. Hidden, in all that blood. You'll find it soon, I guarantee. If not, well, I'll give you a little hint. Then we'll see who's laughing then? Hmmm?
Oh, you were always better than me, weren't you? Daddy loved you best because you were supposedly smarter, handsomer, kinder, better in every way than me. But I was older. That was one thing you couldn’t robe me of. So you were jealous. No need to take it out on me, though, was there? Reason never stopped anyone though, we both know that. So why all of a sudden you seem to think that you can reason with me? Pathetic. You can't even take the pain, can you? Stupid little crybaby. The more you plead, the more you'll bleed. Sometimes I crack myself up. I'm so funny, really. Another thing you hated me for. I was always wittier, more sarcastic, just plain funnier than you. Figured it out, yes you have, haven't you? That we're related. Hah! The whole brother-brother thing won't get you out of here, my brother. I lost all love for you a long time ago, if I ever had any.
You owe me one, little brother. All that praise, all that luck, all that good fortune that was showered upon you. Didn’t I deserve some of it? Or was our father’s last words to me, the fact that he loved you more than me, was that my legacy? Thanks to you, I’ve been cursed. Wondering around this earth, seeing my failure spread with me. The hidden knowledge that although I was first, I would always be second-best. You and your sheep, little brother. You and those damn sheep.
You just don't GET it do you? Fucking idiot. Now you're making me mad, really mad. You don't understand why you're lying here, bleeding redness all over my clean floor. You just don't GET why I'm torturing you. You don't feel the need for my vengeance, selfish little swine. The world must balance, you see. My pain your pain. It took years I admit for it to come about and smack you in the face. But it came, nonetheless. And even if I could have let go of the pain, forgaven you and forgotten you. Become so much more at peace with myself and the world. That's not the only reason why you're here today, bleeding and dying at my feet. The real reason is buried under the burning need for revenge. The power and thrill of holding your life is part of it, but not all. No, the real reason why I have snapped your bones, made you lick your own blood off the floor, ripped out your eyeballs, stuffed the sockets with your hair, ripped tendon from tendon, made you eat your toes, torn off your fingernails and the million of other forms of pain I have subjected you to today is quite simple. I believe I mentioned it earlier.
I FUCKING HATE YOU
You little bastard, fucking cock-sucker, idiot. The reason why is that I simply can't stand you. The sight of you sickens me, lying there pathetically. Blood dripping down your fucking face. I just can't look at you at all. I hate you, every inch of my being filled with it. I can't stand you at all. I fucking hate you, little brother, and that's all there is to it.
She again bore his brother Abel. And Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller of the ground.
In process of time it came to pass, that Cain brought the fruit of the ground as an offering for his father.
And Abel, he also brought the best, fattest sheep and firstling lambs of his flock. And his father had respect for Abel and to his offering:
But as for Cain and his offering, Adam had no respect. And Cain was filled with rage, and he fell silent as he began to form a plan.
And his father said to Cain, Why are you angry? and why do you keep so silent?
If you do well and show me that you are worthy of my respect, won’t you then be accepted? and if you don’t do well, then surely I am right in not respecting you.
Adam told Cain, See your brother, Abel. He works hard for many days so that his flock may grow fat and when the time comes he slaughters them so that we may eat.
That is Abels offering – his finest sheep, the best he could raise from his own hand.
Your offering is crops from your field. They are small and sour, you have offered me the least of your bounty. Why should I accept my oldest son when my youngest son works harder and deserves my respect more than any you have ever shown me?
And Cain talked with Abel his brother: and though we know not what words were exchanged the outcome was that Cain fled his family and set forth on his own, disillusioned and filled with rage at his brother.
Many years later, it came to pass that the blood brothers met again. And although Cain recognized his little brother, Abel had all but forgotten that he was not the only son of Adam and Eve.
Once alone, Cain rose up against Abel his blood brother, and exacted his revenge.
And when Abels body was returning to Adam and Eve, the first man and woman on earth, Abels body was placed in the ground where his mothers blood bore him. The first grave ever: and so blood returned to blood.
Also, I would like to just state that I know I have taken liberties with the real Abel and Cain bible story. I know that this isn’t what’s in the bible. It’s called creative licence, and I’ve taken advantage of it. :)
May blessings follow in your footsteps,
Ethereal Kisses
