Purpose:  Was it Worth It is my first attempt at a more literary style of writing. Again it is a darker piece of Fantasy exploring the question; is it better to rule in hell than serve in Heaven. In this piece, I choose to answer it against my own instincts for the challenge of it. I believe in writing it is good to reexamine the convention, look at life from another point of view. After all, isn’t my job as a writer to expose you to a different side of the world?

I hope you enjoy and that this piece does for you what it did for me, reaffirm your believe whatever that may be.

Piece: Was it Worth It?

“Idiot,” came the word like a sledgehammer out of the darkness. “Felled by a woman.”

The old man emerged from the shadows. I noticed his skin was sickly pale and drawn. His burlap clothing was caked with dirt and worn to rags. His stay in the dungeon must have been a prolonged one. To find my story had reached such a lowly one as this was astounding. Should I be embarrassed or flattered?

I chose the latter.

Cold bit into my bones. The lash marks on my back burned every time I took a deep breath, yet I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth.

“A smile, hah. Must be insane,” the old beggar wheezed.  He gently laid his body on the hard-packed floor, shaking his head in contempt at me.

“I knew she was the devil,” I started, settling on the solitary rough-stone bench, “the minute she smiled at me. The devil tricks most of us into thinking his most dangerous attack is the hidden one. The one when we aren’t sure if it really is him or a trick of our paranoid mind.

‘That of course is false.

‘The most dangerous attack is the one he personally delivers to our door. The one with his signature scrawled in neat letters across her forehead. We take this gift in with gratitude in our hearts and a smile on our lips.

‘I knew Mona was devil-sent the minute I saw her smile, with that gentle overbite that gave her full lips a permanent pout,” I continued, the warm winter mint smell of her filling the room with the mere mention of her name. “She fell in my arms with a spark in her eyes and a burning desire between her thighs.”

Our first night came back to me in a rush. The cinnamon taste of her mouth filled my mind. The warm press of her soft body against mine brought forth a bittersweet yearning in me. I had to shake my head violently or be lost in remembrance.

“As an imperfect man, I was helpless to resist a wealthy merchant’s daughter. How was I to know? Promised as a virgin bride to another.”

I gazed down at the shackles clamped tight to my wrist, then out the small window directly opposite the gallows.

“After a month in her pleasure I sit here awaiting the noose. Many have asked me if it was worth it.”

The smile finally reached my eyes, warming my soul.

*

Dawn broke through with particular violence.  A burly, silent guard wrenched me from the shadow into the sun for the last time. The march to the gallows was a solemn one. Even the sky was filled with a splash of blood. The crowd stood like petulant statues, ready to see if my death would be quick, or would I prolong their entertainment and struggle, at the end of the rope.

The ground was muddy under my bare feet and the air fresh after the previous night’s rain. I took a deep breath savoring every beat of the end of this life.

Amidst the stone faces, I spotted my demon lover. She was shrouded in black but I saw the fires of hell in her eyes. They called me to their warm embrace.

“Remember lover,” she whispered to me three nights hence. “Die in my name and you will become a prince of the underworld. We will have an eternity together.”

The abrasive rope scratched at my neck. Apprehension made my knees wobble.  Was her promise true? Was it worth it?

I looked into her eyes. Was it worth it?

A smile bubbled its way up from the core of me.

The lever was pulled and the platform disappeared out from under me.

YES.