PsychoFiction
by Christian Hellreigel
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The following is PsychoFiction, which comes about courtesy of those sweet
individuals who wanted a suicide for Samhain. It's a little weird and full
of "tongue in cheek" sarcasm, but unlike my other pornographic escapades,
I can actually post it here...WooHoo.
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Upon the stage stood the tall, odd looking man. Oddlooking in the "normal"
world of set perfections and standardized beauty, yet a beautiful man to
those who did not embrace the "normal" world. His audience consisted of
long time fans and newer fans alike. Only this time out, there was also
another contingent amongst his fans, those who adored him,
followed his every word,yet were so obsessed with him that they hoped that
along with agood show this Halloween night, they would get a bonus for the
price of their $20.00 ticket, his death...
He called himself the Anti-Christ Superstar, his hostility towards
Christianity and all it stood for was strong, as though the Christian God
himself had betrayed him personally. He preached individuality and thinking
for ones self, yet looked down upon a crowd where a good percentage of them
longed to look and be just like him. Yet, how could they look and be just
like him and retain their own individuality, how could they be just like
him when they didn't even have a clue what "just like him" even entailed?
They had to wait for their $20.00 worth this evening, a bomb threat
was called into tonight's venue. Obviously their Anti-Christ had some
religious group running a little worried, once again. Of course violence
and bomb scares were all ok as long as they were done in the name of their
God. But, here he was onstage, late but here none the less. The audience
stared at him as though mesmerized by their Anti-Christ, hanging on every
movement he made, every word. The children who mimicked his look,
the young women who wore more on their lips than anywhere else on their
bodies, all stared, all wanted some of him.
Their Anti-Christ decided to acknowledge the rumor of his suicide, and the
blood thirsty look in their eyes as they gazed upon him. He
inquired as to who had come to see him die tonight. More people than not
cheered, much more people than not. They had come to see his death and
grew excited at the very thought. But, it would appear that their
Anti-Christ would disappoint them this evening. There would be no suicide,
there would be nothing more than they paid their $20.00 for.
As the show neared its end, it became all too clear to those who had
come for death, that they wouldn't be satiated this Halloween night. They
became angry, the crowd of mesmerized fans slowly but surely became a mob
of people who felt cheated at not getting something they hadn't paid for.
Those few who had not comefor blood this evening were pushed aside without
a second thought.It didn't take much for the mob to get past security,
after all it was late and they resented being there, and only looked
forward to getting rid of the items confiscated from the fans before they
could reclaim them. The Anti-Christ and his Apostles attempted to make
their way back off the stage to escape the angry mob. No use,the mob was
too strong, too blood thirsty. By the time the stage cleared, their
Anti-Christ was dead, hanging by the neck on a cord thrown across the
overhead rafters. The mob was spent, the Apostles wept, those who were
pushed aside were in shock.
How were they to know? How were they to know that the resentments of the
betraying God were on such a personal level? How were they to
know that they just helped history repeat itself. How were they to know
that it couldn't be any other way? How were theyto know that their
precious Anti-Christ was nothing less than the second coming of Christ...
