We met at a rally. Mama always said that church was the best place to meet a man, but I was sure that he had strong religious convictions. He was on the right side of the picket lines, after all. I figured that anybody willing to stand-up to those goddamn harlots must be a man of the Lord. Just the thought of those sluts choosing sin and debauchery over the life of an innocent baby is enough to make me want to upchuck. I can’t stand the sense of entitlement some of the women who come in and out of that clinic, have. It’s not your body; it’s God’s. He’s just lending it to you, honey.
Sorry, I digress. We were talking about him, weren’t we?
You should have seen him. He was so handsome—curly blond hair and eyes like an angel’s. You could hear the passion in his voice every time one of those little whores walked by on their way into that slaughterhouse. I was far too shy to approach to him, but that wouldn’t have been very ladylike of me anyways. When our eyes met I felt my stomach flutter. Even to this day, thinking about that moment still gives me goosebumps. He smiled at me and told me his name. I replied in kind and I knew he could tell that I was already smitten.
We began to court shortly after. He was always the perfect gentleman. So many men act like they care about you, but in reality they’re only interested in getting into your pants. It felt different with him though. There was no heavy necking and he never pressured me to kiss him. Our dates mostly consisted of sitting under my favorite Juniper tree at the park while we discussed the book of the Lord. He was so knowledgeable. I fancied hearing all of his interesting thoughts and ideas when he talked about scripture. Once I told him that he should write a book about the bible, but he laughed my suggestion off. He told me that people who buy that kind of literature weren’t usually as open-minded as I was. It made me blush when he said that.
I think I fell head over heels for him before the summer was over. When you’re in love, your heart makes you do funny things. Every time I saw him it became increasingly more difficult to control my urges. I wanted to hold him, to kiss him all over his body. I wanted to feel his hands caressing my breasts, but we weren’t married and I knew that Jesus would frown on me if I acted on my desires. I was certainly no sinner, after all. Not like those sluts at the clinic.
I remember the last time I ever saw him just as clear as if it were yesterday.
He had walked me home from the park after one of our dates. We were discussing the book of Job, but I’m embarrassed to say that I wasn’t paying too much attention. The demon, lust, had clouded my mind, making it almost impossible for me to focus. When we arrived at my front door, I asked him if he wanted to come inside for a while. I knew it was Bingo night at the church, which meant Mama wouldn’t be home until late in the evening. He seemed surprised by my invitation, but politely obliged. I’m not sure if my intentions were innocent or not, but once I had him all to myself, I knew I couldn’t subdue my yearnings anymore.
I kissed him.
At first, he was frozen with what I can only assume was shock. Plunging your tongue into a man’s mouth is not the kind of behavior one would expect from a proper lady like myself, but despite his stunned reaction, he slowly began to warm to my advances. I wanted him—all of him, and he told me he wanted me too.
I held his hand and guided him to my bedroom. Together we undressed until our figures were just as bare and exposed as Adam and Eve’s. He held me in his arms and I kissed him again. I knew that what we were doing was a sin. We weren’t married, but at that point I just didn’t care anymore. I loved him and I knew in my heart of hearts that we would be together forever.
He took my virginity that night. His touch was the most incredible thing I have ever felt in my entire life. I was lost in his embrace, my body sinking like an anchor into the deepest darkest depths of his passion. He filled my entire being with pleasure. The intense sensation built inside of me until I felt as though I was going to burst. And burst I did—our love erupted that night into a carnal, hedonistic explosion of sexual gratification.
When he finished he stood up from the bed and shot a handsome smile my way. I asked him if he wanted to lay with me a little while longer since we still had some time before Mama returned home, but he declined my offer to cuddle. It was then that my lover informed me that he had gotten what he came for. His answer left me confused and upset. I had never pegged him to be the type to use a woman for sex.
I begged him to clarify what he meant—to tell me that he wanted to be with me, but hearing my desperate pleads only caused him to throw his head back and laugh. His voice had mutated into something horrible and repulsive. The mocking chortles gushing from his mouth sounded like the howls of a dozen dying dogs all crying out together in unison. But that wasn’t the only thing about him that changed before my eyes.
I could feel heart rise in my throat as I watched his beautiful blonde hair fall from his head only to be replaced by a pair of twisted goat-like horns. His nose turned upwards like a boar’s while his chin receded to the point where it was almost nonexistent. He smiled at me again, but now he was wearing the grin of a serpent. A row of pointed teeth glistened in the twilight that had trickled into my room.
The revolting sound of bones cracking and flesh tearing filled the room as his body continued to contort itself into a horrible, disfigured mass. By the time the noises had faded his feet had become hooved, his spine was bent and misshapen, and his body had almost doubled in size. He looked down at me—those angelic eyes were now as cold and white as porcelain—and I realized I had been deceived by the Morning Star.
The beast spoke to me. He told me that he wasn’t interested in a wife; it was a child he wanted. Of course the son of the devil could only be born out of sin—a sin I had been tricked into committing. I could tell he took great pleasure in persuading me to stray from the righteous path. I begged him to take it out of me, but he showed me no mercy. In the blink of an eye he had vanished from my bedroom, leaving only the lingering smell of sulfur in the air to remind me of his presence.
That was two months ago. I’ve been worried about how I’m going to hide my bump from the rest of the church once I start to show. I admit that I’ve been tempted at times to head down to the clinic and get the demon’s seed removed, but I made a promise to God that I would never sin again and I still believe that he will see me through this. I’m not one of those whores. I refuse to take the easy way out. God is testing me and I won’t take the bait. As long as there is a child is inside of me then it’s safe—even if I’m harboring the Anti-Christ.
Credited to Vincent Vena Cava