I think I have a diseased imagination...

Extract from the Diaries Of Lucifia Bellebub Mephistopheles, 9^th March to the 20^th March

Lucifia Mephistopheles was born to a certain Mrs Rosalina Mephistopheles on an unspecified date, sometime in the 1960s. She was described as a 'small, dowdy child' by her then neighbours, the Merricks (see page 34) devout Christians who were said to have moved on soon after commenting for health reasons. Lucifia was eleven years old when these entries were written.

9^th March

Neri, the maid, left us. Said the devil himself haunted the streets of this city, and that hell roared in our cellar.

Asked Mama what Neri meant. She told me that I wouldn't understand.

"But Mama!"

"Shut your insolent mouth, child!"

She slapped me. I have a fiery mark on my cheek, and salty drops of liquid stain my clothes where Mama cried on me and asked for my forgiveness.

I gave it to her. She locked it up in a golden locket. She smiled at me. Her teeth glinted.

13^th March

Quentin, my playmate, didn't come today. When I went round to his, his Papa opened the door and told me to leave. He strode off to get me a biscuit. Bribery... A secondary sin...

I watched and waited. A dark figure was silhouetted against the white of the walls. The golden light of morning burst like an egg into the room, through the door. It cut out the shape of a boy and a man, two shadows... The man leaned forwards and made a cutting motion towards the boy, who keeled over.

A fiery light shone for a second on the white backdrop of the shadow puppet theatre. The man disappeared with the sudden light.

I clapped.

I have seen many other such shadow shows, and they never cease to enthral me.

I have never seen the actors.

I did not see Quentin again.

16^th March

My head feels like a melon about to split, about to disgorge its juicy gore. I have two small lumps on either side of my head. Mama tells me that they are perfectly normal. I demand to know why she hasn't got any.

She gives me two beautiful white rabbits.

I know I am being bought off.

Secondary sin, repeated...

I trip down the small steps to the pit. The smell is the first thing which assaults my nostrils. I toss the wriggling creatures into its bottomless depths.

As I watch prisoners crunch the small animals alive (their brains ooze pleasingly out of their ears), I flick off some little bits of intestine that have strayed from their true course, the course that leads to bubbling pools of acid in the deepest, darkest recesses of the warped entrails of the damned. I lie back. The sounds of gulping and swallowing, of pain and torture are music to my ears.

The head of the rabbit is still twitching as it is swallowed.

18^th March

I am bored. So bored. I have watched an age burn in the fireplace. Have visited a playmate. She bored me, so I asked Mama for a puppet show. She said that I need never be apathetic again.

Mama suggested I 'meddle with earthly matters'. She said it would be 'good practise'. I told her 'practise' sounds like work to me, and I would never do work.

Well, I wouldn't.

She laughed. It sounded like the tinkling of bells and I laughed with her. Then she showed me what she meant.

It looked like fun.

I have settled for starting a small war.

I think it will be entertaining.

--------------------------------

"What is it you want?"

The man stepped forwards, calmly. Carefully. Deliberately.

"You know what it is I want, Rosalina darling... "

"Know?" The woman laughed. The sound of ironic merriment slowly degenerated into a high, thin, screaming sound, piercing and painful.

"I know nothing! I FEEL nothing!" Rosalina collapsed.

He took her in his arms.

“I want my daughter back...” he hissed in pale swirl of her ear. Her dark hair flowed over his claw-like hand in one fluid movement. The sunset light caught its auburn glow. And fire spread its way through the dark, cursed room...

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20^th March

Mama was found dead in her bed. I don't know what killed her. There was a red silk cloth thrown over her body.

I was feeding her corpse to the prisoners when Father came.

“You are a true heir indeed.”

This was for the 'Big Bad Write' competition (describe a supervillain). I think they were looking for something a bit more Green Goblin, but I thought having the Devil's heir was scary enough.