Spoke the Liar

He lay on the ground, unconscious. His eyes were half closed, their lids penetrated by the pouring rain, but not his slumber.

"Who are you?" spoke the liar. Still was he in the dark and the rain, presently staring forward toward a bright entity—a hazy but clear white light—that hovered before his eyes.
"I am all that you fear," said a wispy, gentle voice, seemingly imagined but so strong and profound it could not be ignored.
"Who are you?" spoke the killer, a bit louder this time as the power of that voice shook him. He shivered in the cold, reddish brown hair pasted against his face with rainwater, dripping down to his soggy shoes.
"I am what you know you cannot face," the voice replied, just as calmly as before. The killer stepped back, wide-eyed, and demanded an answer once more.
"Who are you?" spoke the cheater, desperately as the light approached him. It seemed to grow brighter and brighter until he felt blinded by its force.
"The truth," the voice said simply. "You know me, but you deny me. You refuse to accept what I offer you." The wind howled, he shrieked, and the liar knew then that it was he who spoke to him. "Liar; killer; cheater, you are; to yourself as much as to others! A lie told has rightful cause, you say, but your lies are black and deadly. The dead are only sleeping, you insist, but without waking sleep cannot be. Insignificant, you think, that a cheat sneaked has many results, but you will accept the consequences. The light shines for you, but you stare into its splendor only to find a vast, empty void. Look not into the blankness, but beyond it, to behold what it reveals—then shall you see me and know that I will not eternally be denied."
The liar stood frozen for moments at once, bewildered. Upon breaking from his trance, he shifted his wild-eyed gaze beyond the light—as the wind had told him—and opened his true eyes. The blackened irises lit up with fire as they set upon their destination, and the rest of the world faded into darkness as he watched.

The liar opened his eyes only to have them stung by the trickling rain. He lifted his head and searched through the darkness for the light, and saw naught but a circle of stars through an opening in the black clouds overhead. He searched through the silence for the voice of the wind, but heard nothing save the pitter-patter of celestial droplets crashing like tiny meteorites into the earth. It had been a dream. And yet it was more real than anything else in his life before then. Armed with a newfound truth, the liar—the killer, the cheater—set out to find its true meaning. That was all he told me before leaving my church.
"Farewell," spoke the liar, and with that, he was gone.

Author's Notes: I rather like this one. ^_^ This was an idea I got from a poem written by FF.net's own Terra Tigra called "Spoke the Liar" (check her out sometime, that's not the only great poem of hers ^_~). I got her permission to write this and I hope she, too, likes the way I interpreted her work. :) Thanks for all the inspiration, Tigra-san. *bows*
As for you readers...I think this story is pretty self-explanatory, so I think I'll refrain from long, elucidating remarks. If you have questions, e-mail me! ^_^ And don't forget to review this and the poem that it sprang from! Thanks for taking the time; hope to hear from you! ~Mistress Jakira
Date of Composition: Saturday, October 26, 2002