Before He came upon the village where he was raised, the Baptist stopped under a fig tree to pray. He kneeled beneath the tree, laying his belongings on top of a rock. While he was resting beneath the shade of its giant leaves a snake came upon the rock where his belongings sat. The snake’s belly was bloated and writhing – filled with some terrified and tortured animal. The Baptist nodded towards the serpentine visage and as he did so – a terrible vision came upon him.
The snake’s maw began to open wide, revealing the gore within – until it split evenly down the middle – as if a hunter had begun to skin the reptilian monarch. From within a horrible torrent of vitae and violence burst – the lump within the limbless beast was a deformed mass of flesh – a collection of prey and waste.
The skeletal structure of the snake and the contents of its belly molded together in a harrowing vision of flesh and bone – sinew stretched like threads of cotton – dyed an inky red and black. The Baptist gazed upon this vision of extremity and nodded passively – for he knew what spoke to him.
“BEHOLD MY FACE NOT, BEHOLD MY VIOLENCE, MY TERROR, FOR I AM GOD” – the mass of meat expunged from its mouthless body. Its voice boomed in the Baptist’s ears – a horrible reminder of his fragility and mortality.
“Man has not heard my words or my kindness – he shall suffer. I am all powerful, but not for mercy does my power retain. Lo, in the desert bellows a horrid abomination – Moloch – the Eater of Children, the Grand Furnace. They speak only unto him, and know not that they speak unto the Great Deceiver. You are my anointed one Gabriel.”
As the voice spoke, blood and black ichor spewed forth from the writhing creature’s midst. Leaving steaming trails of fluids and organs upon the sandy rocks.
“In this vision of violence and terror I bring you and your kin redemption – not by mine own hand – but by man’s own hands. I am fear, I am terror, I am horror, I am all that man has come to forget. He knows no longer that he comes from nothing. Tell them I am no longer a vision of peace and love. I am no longer his father. I am the face of judgment. I am the eater of moon and star. I am the great void from whence all came. You must make them repent, or they shall be swallowed in my righteous indignation. Tell them that their god has not abandoned them – tell them that he has never kept a closer eye upon his keep”
Upon finishing these words, a loud cry was sent into the sky, deafening the Baptist. His ears bled from within and crimson calligraphy slid down the sides of his temple. The pulsating ball of gore was rescinded, turning back into the bloated snake – the blood and horror seemingly never happened.
The Baptist stood, quaking. Not with fear – but with harrowing purpose.