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Venom Of God
He was good looking, like model gorgeous, that's what they all kept telling him but he didn't see it. He still felt like that nerdy boy from his first years in school they all teased. They'd really messed with his head and those nights he'd go home feeling unloved, unappreciated and unwanted...they never really went away. Now they saw the image of what he'd like to be, the clown mask that was beautifully put together. Artistry, the contacts and trendy haircut, the designer clothes he secretly bought online second hand as he was dirt poor. The bits they didn't see like the skin creams and beauty products he stole to rid him of his spots and marks. He was a hyena masquerading as a tiger, laughing at himself underneath the facade; but nobody saw the scavenger underneath. They saw what he projected, confidence. Yet he'd never felt so weak and vulnerable in all his life, because he really was different.
His parents had their own problems, and he'd never wanted to compound to them by sharing his. All his life he'd tried to handle things alone. It isn't easy when you have nobody you feel you can open up to, or if there were you seriously feel like you'd only bring them down and ruin the relationship if you opened up. So Samael kept his peace, and struggled on internally trying to cope. He drifted more and more into a reclusive nature, but curiously he wasn't an introvert. It was all part of the show, the "what they want to see," and by his teens he'd got it perfected. At eighteen he was already a master of disguise, and the friends he had weren't really aware of who he really was. They didn't care, they just wanted to hang with the guy most girls fancied, or the one who was socially "out there". On lonely nights in his room he was posting on social media his fake dream life. Nothing of it was true, all a fabrication he knew they want to hear or see. He was cautious, knew how to play the game.
Now you might think having good looks wins you a whole lot of credit points in today's shallow world. And it's true, it does. More so for girls, but these days even the lads were favouritised too just for their outward appearance. Couple this with telling people what they want to hear and you have all the attention you could ever want. He dated, was attentive but never truly loving. How could he be? He didn't feel
the connection they did and he wasn't interested in sex. His body repulsed him, and beyond the charade of acting how he imagined a boyfriend would be, he was stuck. It's surprising how the vapid nature of some people means they can be entirely happy just going out or hanging out with good looking people. It's as if they bump up their own attractive rating just by hanging out with those of a higher score. Ugly kids are invariably pushed to the periphery, and secretly that's where Samael Santiago expected to be. But he worked damned hard to stay out of the shadows.
That was until he met Pierre De Ferio one fateful Summer evening. He was a gawky looking guy hanging out on his motorcycle in the street where Samael lived. He was coming home from walking his date, Cindy Robbins, back to her car. She was head cheerleader, vice president of the student council and typical rich kid who gets all she wants. Samael always felt his dark skin and her fair complexion seemed to look good together. He didn't dislike her, she was driven and hard working and he admired that. He tried to choose dates that he at least found something attractive in, but looks wise she wasn't his thing. In fact, he didn't know what his thing was. He wasn't interested that much in physicality; not until he saw Pierre astride that bike. He was pale and pastey, with unkempt mousey brown hair and thick big round glasses that reminded him of a sexy Harry Potter. The adult version all brooding, like a combo of those brothers in Vampire Diaries, bad boy to look at, but underneath you know they're ripped and streetwise.
As Samael passed him he noticed the kid was reading a book totally ignoring the looks he was getting. He looked about twenty, with jeans and a plain tee. Simple enough clothes but his sleeves gave him an edge, the tattoos all gold and bronze. They were some kind of intricate design that wound their way up both his muscled arms. He couldn't stop staring, but he kept on walking. In a lot of ways he was still so insecure, and he'd never felt this spark of attraction before. When the stranger looked up at him as he passed and smiled, he stumbled. Piercing green grey eyes stabbed him and he missed a beat. He was too embarrassed to stop, he went red faced and marched on by. But as he got far enough away he thought he'd dare chance a look around, and sure enough the guy was still staring and smiling. Now I don't know if you believe in love at first sight, but certainly there's lust at first sight. He was a stranger to it, but Samael knew then in the privacy of his room that afternoon what real attraction was for him. He'd found the object of his affection, and it didn't matter the gender, he just wanted to get to know the person.
Word soon got around that Samael Santiago was single again. The guys on his track team thought it was because Cindy could be real pushy, but to his credit Samael blamed himself. It was the truth, she just wasn't what he was looking for. Cindy seemed to take it well, kind of expected it coming and had already been prepping her next flame just in case, Dave Stoberman, a junior banker in her daddy's firm. Neither felt too bad about the split, but in fact Samael felt relieved. Now he knew he was free to hunt out the guy with the motorbike. It had been three months and he'd not bumped into him again. He'd tried the same routes home, the hangouts of other bikers or street kids. He'd never go in the places, he didn't have the nerve, but he would hang around hoping to catch sight of him.
As luck would have it, he found him in the last place on earth he'd expected to. He was in this old antiquarian bookshop that the Santiago's had discovered decades ago. They were a family of book lovers, and Samael felt it was an escape from the lies he lived every day. The owner always let him stay and hang around to read the books as long as he wanted. His dad and the owner were best mates. That day he met Pierre quite by chance once again, and this time there was no ducking out of an introduction. Amongst the smell of old books, and the dark corridors of shelves stacked to the ceiling, the pale rebel blocked his way. He was smiling that dangerously captivating smile.
"Hello, again. We never got chance to chat last time, I'm Pierre. Didn't think I'd bump into you here. You looking for something special?"
He seemed polite and friendly, but the inner Samael was squirming thinking of what a fool he must have appeared last time. But the guy was talking to him and it was a chance he'd been waiting for. Funny how fate seems to create such opportunities, but he was so unready, felt so awkward. He pushed it down like he did everyday as he left his room to face the outside world. It mattered to him this one time, and he so wanted to create a good impression.
"No, I just come here to browse. I like old books, they're like old friends, welcoming and easy to read." He smiled the charming smile he'd rehearsed a hundred times or more in the mirror. But to his chagrin it didn't seem to phase Pierre at all, in fact he frowned a little.
"That's a nice way to look at it. In that case I may have many to get acquainted with." Pierre was still smiling, and seemed confident.
"I haven't seen you here before." Samael sounded very matter of fact, but this guy was throwing him off. He felt very self conscious.
"You've been looking then?" came the hopeful reply from Pierre.
"Yeah, err no, I mean I was hoping to catch you around." Idiot, he sounded so tongue tied, he cringed and berated himself inwardly. The cracks were already starting to show in his beautiful veneer.
"And do I get your name?" the Frenchman asked. He sounded a bit annoyed that Samael hadn't already offered it.
"Samael Santiago," he offered a hand to shake. It was old school but he kind of felt it was the right thing to do. " The owner is my dad's friend."
"Pierre De Ferio," he said smiling again shaking it," the owner's my uncle." And with that they brushed up close as the stranger went past and left with a "See you around Samael..be sure of it."
And he was gone!
As Pierre left, he felt his heart racing. That guy was gorgeous, but he didn't seem to be as interested. He was wary of the good looking, well dressed guys who seem to flirt naturally with everybody who showed an interest. Pierre wasn't like that. He looked for the person on the inside, and he didn't jump into things without getting to know where he was about to land. He wasn't quite the rebel he portrayed, he was sensitive and deeply caring. He wore a costume, a facade that got him noticed and seemed to fit in with the modern world, but he kind of felt old school in some ways. He liked others who took time to be as beautiful on the inside as the out. He hoped Samael was just such a guy, and first impressions were good. But these days everybody was playing some sort of role and bigging up who they were and what they wanted. Fake profiles and fake lives, lies and deceit to varying degrees, and even at his late teens he was cynical of that falsehood. He called it "the venom of God", the poison that permeated God's pure spirits. They weren't themselves, pure and true, to survive this world that had become so contorted they had to morph into something else. They wore an outer skin and unzipped it in private to reveal so rarely who they truly were. The venom made people doubt themselves, corrupted their innocence and purity of love and kindness. It spread from one to another so easily, tainting God given uniqueness. He sighed, he wished he could be as strong and he was trying. He'd find out more about this Samael guy from his Uncle and maybe ask for a proper chance to meet him again.
Pierre stole a look behind hoping the dark haired beauty would be watching him. And as he did so he couldn't help but smile, for two light hazel eyes like a timid deer were watching his retreat. The beam that lit up that guy's face was as big and genuine as his own.
"Oh it's so on!" he said to himself. The venom of God can't reach pure hearts and genuine affection, it can't permeate or poison a loving heart. Maybe these two can ditch their hangups just long enough to seriously share the real them. It starts with that "chemistry", and it just might turn out to be enough to fight off and cure the venom already so much entrenched in them. And two hearts truly wanted to be cured. It all has to start somewhere, and you have to want to be healed and "seen".
© .Garry Saunders
His parents had their own problems, and he'd never wanted to compound to them by sharing his. All his life he'd tried to handle things alone. It isn't easy when you have nobody you feel you can open up to, or if there were you seriously feel like you'd only bring them down and ruin the relationship if you opened up. So Samael kept his peace, and struggled on internally trying to cope. He drifted more and more into a reclusive nature, but curiously he wasn't an introvert. It was all part of the show, the "what they want to see," and by his teens he'd got it perfected. At eighteen he was already a master of disguise, and the friends he had weren't really aware of who he really was. They didn't care, they just wanted to hang with the guy most girls fancied, or the one who was socially "out there". On lonely nights in his room he was posting on social media his fake dream life. Nothing of it was true, all a fabrication he knew they want to hear or see. He was cautious, knew how to play the game.
Now you might think having good looks wins you a whole lot of credit points in today's shallow world. And it's true, it does. More so for girls, but these days even the lads were favouritised too just for their outward appearance. Couple this with telling people what they want to hear and you have all the attention you could ever want. He dated, was attentive but never truly loving. How could he be? He didn't feel
the connection they did and he wasn't interested in sex. His body repulsed him, and beyond the charade of acting how he imagined a boyfriend would be, he was stuck. It's surprising how the vapid nature of some people means they can be entirely happy just going out or hanging out with good looking people. It's as if they bump up their own attractive rating just by hanging out with those of a higher score. Ugly kids are invariably pushed to the periphery, and secretly that's where Samael Santiago expected to be. But he worked damned hard to stay out of the shadows.
That was until he met Pierre De Ferio one fateful Summer evening. He was a gawky looking guy hanging out on his motorcycle in the street where Samael lived. He was coming home from walking his date, Cindy Robbins, back to her car. She was head cheerleader, vice president of the student council and typical rich kid who gets all she wants. Samael always felt his dark skin and her fair complexion seemed to look good together. He didn't dislike her, she was driven and hard working and he admired that. He tried to choose dates that he at least found something attractive in, but looks wise she wasn't his thing. In fact, he didn't know what his thing was. He wasn't interested that much in physicality; not until he saw Pierre astride that bike. He was pale and pastey, with unkempt mousey brown hair and thick big round glasses that reminded him of a sexy Harry Potter. The adult version all brooding, like a combo of those brothers in Vampire Diaries, bad boy to look at, but underneath you know they're ripped and streetwise.
As Samael passed him he noticed the kid was reading a book totally ignoring the looks he was getting. He looked about twenty, with jeans and a plain tee. Simple enough clothes but his sleeves gave him an edge, the tattoos all gold and bronze. They were some kind of intricate design that wound their way up both his muscled arms. He couldn't stop staring, but he kept on walking. In a lot of ways he was still so insecure, and he'd never felt this spark of attraction before. When the stranger looked up at him as he passed and smiled, he stumbled. Piercing green grey eyes stabbed him and he missed a beat. He was too embarrassed to stop, he went red faced and marched on by. But as he got far enough away he thought he'd dare chance a look around, and sure enough the guy was still staring and smiling. Now I don't know if you believe in love at first sight, but certainly there's lust at first sight. He was a stranger to it, but Samael knew then in the privacy of his room that afternoon what real attraction was for him. He'd found the object of his affection, and it didn't matter the gender, he just wanted to get to know the person.
Word soon got around that Samael Santiago was single again. The guys on his track team thought it was because Cindy could be real pushy, but to his credit Samael blamed himself. It was the truth, she just wasn't what he was looking for. Cindy seemed to take it well, kind of expected it coming and had already been prepping her next flame just in case, Dave Stoberman, a junior banker in her daddy's firm. Neither felt too bad about the split, but in fact Samael felt relieved. Now he knew he was free to hunt out the guy with the motorbike. It had been three months and he'd not bumped into him again. He'd tried the same routes home, the hangouts of other bikers or street kids. He'd never go in the places, he didn't have the nerve, but he would hang around hoping to catch sight of him.
As luck would have it, he found him in the last place on earth he'd expected to. He was in this old antiquarian bookshop that the Santiago's had discovered decades ago. They were a family of book lovers, and Samael felt it was an escape from the lies he lived every day. The owner always let him stay and hang around to read the books as long as he wanted. His dad and the owner were best mates. That day he met Pierre quite by chance once again, and this time there was no ducking out of an introduction. Amongst the smell of old books, and the dark corridors of shelves stacked to the ceiling, the pale rebel blocked his way. He was smiling that dangerously captivating smile.
"Hello, again. We never got chance to chat last time, I'm Pierre. Didn't think I'd bump into you here. You looking for something special?"
He seemed polite and friendly, but the inner Samael was squirming thinking of what a fool he must have appeared last time. But the guy was talking to him and it was a chance he'd been waiting for. Funny how fate seems to create such opportunities, but he was so unready, felt so awkward. He pushed it down like he did everyday as he left his room to face the outside world. It mattered to him this one time, and he so wanted to create a good impression.
"No, I just come here to browse. I like old books, they're like old friends, welcoming and easy to read." He smiled the charming smile he'd rehearsed a hundred times or more in the mirror. But to his chagrin it didn't seem to phase Pierre at all, in fact he frowned a little.
"That's a nice way to look at it. In that case I may have many to get acquainted with." Pierre was still smiling, and seemed confident.
"I haven't seen you here before." Samael sounded very matter of fact, but this guy was throwing him off. He felt very self conscious.
"You've been looking then?" came the hopeful reply from Pierre.
"Yeah, err no, I mean I was hoping to catch you around." Idiot, he sounded so tongue tied, he cringed and berated himself inwardly. The cracks were already starting to show in his beautiful veneer.
"And do I get your name?" the Frenchman asked. He sounded a bit annoyed that Samael hadn't already offered it.
"Samael Santiago," he offered a hand to shake. It was old school but he kind of felt it was the right thing to do. " The owner is my dad's friend."
"Pierre De Ferio," he said smiling again shaking it," the owner's my uncle." And with that they brushed up close as the stranger went past and left with a "See you around Samael..be sure of it."
And he was gone!
As Pierre left, he felt his heart racing. That guy was gorgeous, but he didn't seem to be as interested. He was wary of the good looking, well dressed guys who seem to flirt naturally with everybody who showed an interest. Pierre wasn't like that. He looked for the person on the inside, and he didn't jump into things without getting to know where he was about to land. He wasn't quite the rebel he portrayed, he was sensitive and deeply caring. He wore a costume, a facade that got him noticed and seemed to fit in with the modern world, but he kind of felt old school in some ways. He liked others who took time to be as beautiful on the inside as the out. He hoped Samael was just such a guy, and first impressions were good. But these days everybody was playing some sort of role and bigging up who they were and what they wanted. Fake profiles and fake lives, lies and deceit to varying degrees, and even at his late teens he was cynical of that falsehood. He called it "the venom of God", the poison that permeated God's pure spirits. They weren't themselves, pure and true, to survive this world that had become so contorted they had to morph into something else. They wore an outer skin and unzipped it in private to reveal so rarely who they truly were. The venom made people doubt themselves, corrupted their innocence and purity of love and kindness. It spread from one to another so easily, tainting God given uniqueness. He sighed, he wished he could be as strong and he was trying. He'd find out more about this Samael guy from his Uncle and maybe ask for a proper chance to meet him again.
Pierre stole a look behind hoping the dark haired beauty would be watching him. And as he did so he couldn't help but smile, for two light hazel eyes like a timid deer were watching his retreat. The beam that lit up that guy's face was as big and genuine as his own.
"Oh it's so on!" he said to himself. The venom of God can't reach pure hearts and genuine affection, it can't permeate or poison a loving heart. Maybe these two can ditch their hangups just long enough to seriously share the real them. It starts with that "chemistry", and it just might turn out to be enough to fight off and cure the venom already so much entrenched in them. And two hearts truly wanted to be cured. It all has to start somewhere, and you have to want to be healed and "seen".
© .Garry Saunders
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