Did time…stop?
Not a sound. Not a breath.
Father Azrael and Daniel sat there, in their positions, frozen, as if hushed to a still. The air seemed stagnant, and even the dust particles lingered in the atmosphere.
It was only about 3 seconds since I laid my eyes on the Tempter—the only other thing that moved.
"Did time stop?" I asked.
"No. Joshua." The Tempter responded with my voice. "It's all in your head."
I know it is. But what is happening?
"You must be troubled," he said.
I spent the next few seconds, swiftly as they passed, struggling to figure out the situation. When I failed, I chose to adapt, reassessing everything that occurred not so long after Father Azrael posed that question at me.
But my understanding did not increase by a millimeter.
As a result, I acted purely on emotion. The ever unsteady agitation that quaked the walls of my heart.
"Be gone!" I screamed immediately. It wasn't out of fear, nor spite this time, as my emotions had gone on highs and lows in a short amount of time like a hysterical rollercoaster, before concluding on a single feeling.
Confusion.
A confused man does confused things.
Of course, confused things are products of sentimental decisions, which could be good or bad. I recalled my previous encounter with the Tempter, hoping to find patterns to satiate my internal bedlam, but it only worsened.
Yet, I was fully convinced of one thing—if nothing else. I did see the Tempter earlier, but my paranoia had trapped me in distrust of my own experience. And ultimately, of my own self.
What stood before me was Satan. We had several names for it. The Inciter, Devil, Lucifer…
But…all these…these unnatural phenomenons…
It appeared that the cycle—the chain of strange events that had been transpiring around me were only starting to settle in. Even right from my first exorcism. These were things that I paid no mind to at first—but now, they bothered me.
Or was I simply overreacting because of Father Azrael's words?
Did that mean that I was scared?
Fear?
Again?
No, this wasn't fear.
As I stood underneath the motionless gaze of the doppelganger that spoke, words fell through my lips, trapping my thoughts in segments of fragmented speech.
My mind conveyed itself through my mouth. And my heart screamed one question, seeking an answer to my bewilderment.
"What are you?" I asked.
"I'm Satan." He replied, lips moving so unnoticeably that they were easy to miss.
"I'm Satan. Isn't that what you think?"
Ofcourse. A being known as a deceiver would never give a definitive answer.
Unsurprisingly. It's as if he knows of my befuddlement.
…..
Father Azrael really isn't moving. His eyes are wide open but he's so stationary that you would think he's asleep.
Daniel is doing the same too.
Time has-!
No, the devil has no such power. It's in my head.
Yes, it has to be.
The Tempter's corpse-like head moved, but its irises hung in its eyes, as if disconnected from its body, such that they fell on me as it lifted its head.
"Would you like to see something?" asked the Tempter, staring at me.
Confusion births curiosity. It's in the same manner that hate births anger.
I wanted to. However, I knew the devil told nothing but lies. It's basic knowledge for Christians.
"Get behind me, Satan!"
"But you are curious." urged the Tempter. His eyes were of disturbing semblance with mine, and they seemed like they conceived the exact emotions I had in them.
Paranoia of my past. Curiosity of my present. Fear of my future.
"You've been questioning yourself, haven't you? Seeing how naive you've been despite your age."
"....."
Satan had a playful tone brimming underneath 'his' much familiar voice. "Would you really, really, dedicate your entire life to something as shallow as hunting demons?"
A memory surfaced in my mind. It was of my brief but impactful conversation with Mary. Bothersomely, I immediately realised that this creature had intentionally brought it to my remembrance.
"It's my calling."
"I get it." It interjected. "Your calling. Bet it's worth dying for."
"….."
I see where this is going.
I knew it was odd enough that he would manifest itself right in the midst of a pivotal phase. And the visitation earlier, it was all for this moment, wasn't it?
I knew it.
I know the devil's scheme.
'If you know the plans of the enemy, victory is easier to visualise'. Father Azrael once told me this.
Undoubtedly, this is a rather odd chain of events. But it is one of major, (although unknown) significance. I can tell from the enemy's desperation.
Yet, I 'know'. There's nothing to be curious or paranoid about.
"What do you know?" The Tempter suddenly asked.
"I know that-!"
"You know nothing." Satan cut me off, silencing me mid-speech. And shockingly, I forgot what I was about to say.
My jaw hung open, but nothing was uttered, save for a jumbled mix of muffled nonsense.
At that moment, the Tempter drew closer to me.
It took one step, careful, slothful, yet calculated. Its movements were rigid, almost robotic—yet too discreet, making it appear as one still mass that approached like a phantom.
His wounds were gruesome. No, that was an understatement.
They were horrifying—even more so because he had my face.
I didn't feel very comfortable. Not as I watched it take progressive, consecutive steps towards me, as if wanting to give a first-row view of his grotesqueness.
"You don't really know anything." whispered the Tempter. "You're simply rejecting the unknown."
"...."
"Why?" asked the Tempter, his voice half-familiar, half-foreign. "Is it because curiosity killed the cat?"
I must rebuke him immediately.
He summons my ear. I must lend him none.
He calls for my heart. He weaponises my conflict against me.
He is the Devil, Father of Lies.
Immediately, I drew out my cross and my rosary. In this matter, the path of oblivion would be best.
Remember Eve…
Satan stopped.
"You are thinking of Eve, aren't you?" He questioned.
"....."
Did he read my mind?
But only God can discern the heart…
"It's obvious." The Tempter mocked. "A severely indoctrinated brat like you would not hesitate to liken every single circumstance to a biblical scenario."
The story of Adam and Eve was something every Christian was acquainted with, thanks to constant retelling in the modern age, and its major significance.
The way the story was told—particularly to me, portrayed inquisitiveness, that is, the want to know, as the villain of the story.
"You're curious." He added. "You deem curiosity as something bad because of your mindless rejection of the unknown. And everything you do claim to know are things you were told."
"You're drifting!" I replied. "I will not question my faith."
"I know you won't." Satan replied. Then his lips curled up into a smug smile as he went on to stir my whirlpool of unease.
It's almost like he's reading my mind.
"Eve?" The Tempter scorned. "I know Eve. Didn't your bible tell of my part in the whole, elaborate story? Of course, the fall of man. And the spark that lit the flame was something as flimsy as curiosity."
Satan stared at me, his irises seeming to expand in his eyes. "Isn't that what you think?"
"....."
Seeing as I said nothing in response, the Devil decided to continue in his advance, much keen on hitting the hammer on the nail.
"Dogmatism." He sneered. "Stupidly dogmatic. Say, if all you know is that which you were told. Then what do you really know?"
"I don't want to know." I replied.
"Your heart says otherwise," said the Tempter.
"You know not the thoughts of my heart!"
For the second time, Satan halted his approach.
"You're right. I don't." He confessed. "But guess what I do know?"
"....."
"Your future, Joshua. Do you want to see your future?"
"Nonsense! You know no such thing!"
Satan flashed a knowing smile at me. "So you do want to know after all.."
"...."
This is wrong.
A part of me already believes that he knows something. If not, how could I repudiate the obscure?
If one side of my heart didn't believe his lies, and knew them to be lies, his words wouldn't weigh so much.
But I was told that the Devil is untruthful, and no honest thing lies on his lips.
It seems….
I do wish to know….
Satan grinned.
"See?" He whispered, with a subtle terrific charm playing in his voice. And then, with an outstretched arm—wounds nowhere to be found as if they never existed, the Devil gave me an invitation…to the unknown.