Pandora's Box

"She's right, you know," Spencer heard the unmistakable voice of Jezzie say. "You are damned anyway."

Lynn and Lisa both slowly moved apart from each other as Jezzie walked between them, her signature freshly lit cigarette gingerly placed between two fingers. "Burning a church? Killing your father? And what about all that lust?" She slowly shook her head back and forth. "You've been anaughty boy."

"You tricked me," Spencer said bitterly. "You're the genesis of all this pain."

"Admit it, Spencer, you wanted to be tricked," she replied matter-of-factly as she crouched down to his level. "And as for all of this pain, I did it with God's approval." She took a puff on her Pandora and snapped it back, exhaling through her nose. "What kind of merciful and loving god lets me torment his most beloved, hmm?" She stroked his cheek with the hand holding her 120. "You are very important to me, Spencer. You are the last descendant of Job. He refused to curse God, and look where it got us. Thousands of additional years of horror on this planet. Wars, genocide, mass shootings, not to mention the personal pain every human being experiences in their own miserable lives. What kind of sick joke is God playing on you all? And the kicker is that He's convinced you won't turn against him. Hell, he demands that in return for all the shit he dumps on you that you continuously praise Him - without question!"

Stephanie got up so that Jezzie could sit down next to Spencer. "Imagine now what would happen if you rejected Him; He who is so convinced that you will stay the loyal dog no matter how many times he beats you." She smiled. "You can bite back. The descendant of his most virtuous follower canspit in his face. It would shake the very foundation of heaven if you proved God wrong. Chaos would ensue; a new order to the cosmos would be created."

"With you at the head of it," Spencer chuckled, trickles of blood oozing out of both sides of his mouth now.

"Well, Iam the most qualified candidate. And if power were thrust upon me...," she said modestly.

"Heavy is the head who wears the crown," Spencer added disdainfully.

"And if I did rule," Jezzie cooed as she brought her face close to Spencer's, "I would reward those who helped to make it happen. What do you want, Spencer? A kingdom? A whole world of your own? I'll happily give that to you."

Suddenly before him, Spencer saw himself dressed all in black with dark sunglasses that gave him a malevolent appearance, sitting on a high throne slowly smoking a cigarette.

"And of course, you'll be surrounded by those who adore you; those who want to serve and please you."

Spencer saw Stephanie sitting next to him, looking glorious in a long silky black gown as she brought a 120 up to her lips and slowly puffed on it. Lynn and Lisa, dressed in white gowns, sat at his feet as they smoked their long cigarettes, an expression of lustful desire on their faces.

Spencer's pain was gone as he suddenly found himself now sitting on that high throne. He felt powerful; masterful as he looked upon the splendor of the kingdoms he would rule.

"Imagine it," Jezzie whispered seductively into his ear, "your own Garden ofEvil to rule. I'll even throw in 72 virgins as a housewarming gift." Spencer saw before him 72 of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. Some were scantily clad; others were entirely naked. All of them were smoking long cigarettes and filling the air with such beautiful, luscious exhales of creamy white smoke.

"And, of course," Jezzie added, "you'll still have your favorite...how did you put it?...threesweet pussies."

Spencer was on a bed of roses, surrounded on all sides by Stephanie, Lisa, and Lynn as they vied to have his dick inserted into their pussies, their asses, their mouths - every orifice in their bodies. This was a power that Spencer enjoyed wielding. Fucking these cunts was like fucking the whole world. His ejaculation would flood this Garden of Evil with his seed. A new race of men would arise, worshiping him. "Oh, God," Spencer cried as he vigorously moved his pelvis back and forth. "I could create a new world!" Such an orgasm was building up inside of him. With one ejaculation he would recreate mankind in his image. Yes, he had wanted to do that. He would do anything to feel this way. This power.This pleasure! And then, just as he was about to ejaculate the most explosive, powerful lode of his life...of the whole fucking world...in an instant, it all vanished, and he was back gasping for breath on that lonely country road.

"I like your imagination, Spencer," Jezzie said with a wide smile. "It can all be yours with just three little words." She placed her thumb and index finger on his chin, which she moved up and down as she said, "I...curse...God."

Spencer knew his time was short. He always thought that the expression, "the light was fading fast," was overused in literature, but he realized now that it was an accurate description of the onset of death. His sight was indeed growing dim. He no longer even had the strength to continue sitting up. His body slid sideways and his head slumped into Jezzie's lap. He looked into her eyes as the temptress gently stroked his forehead. He had decided to say what she most needed to hear. With blood filling his mouth, he could only mumble the words at first.

"Yes?" Jezzie said in tremendous anticipation. She gently lifted his head up with both of her hands. "You want to say something?"

Spencer cleared his mouth by swallowing the blood. And then as clear as he could articulate the words, he said to Jezzie:"Fuck you, bitch."

Jezzie frowned and dropped his head back into her lap. "Those aren't the three little words I was expecting."

Spencer was tempted. Who wouldn't be with a fantasy that grand? But rewarding Jezzie with the keys to heaven? Nothing could convince the young man, despite his certain damnation, to do that after what she had done to his family. He would at least die with some dignity as he took responsibility for his actions.

He slowly turned his head to look at Stephanie, and he said with a smile, "I'll always love the person that you were." He then turned his eyes upwards and said with every ounce of sincerity in his soul, "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

The preacher's son took one last gasp of breath, and then his body was still.

"So close," Jezzie said in bitter disappointment as she again shook her head back and forth. "So, so close."

And then something remarkable happened. A white mist slowly began to rise up from the chest of this lifeless body towards the heavens.

"Oh, you have to beshittin me!" Jezzie said disdainfully. She looked up at the sky. "Really? The Prodigal Son returns?"

"I don't understand," Stephanie said in a state of confusion. "Spencer's dead. Why isn't he standing here with us now?" She began to panic. "You said that whether he cursed God or not, he was still going to Hell; that he and I would be together for an eternity...like Romeo and Juliette. Youpromised."

Jezzie looked at the three women, all of whom had tears welling up in their eyes as they considered what this all must mean for their own doomed fates. "God forgave him his sins," she said scornfully as her long fingers stroked her chin.

"What about us?" Lisa asked in terror.

"You," Jezzie replied with the raise of her hand, "aren't so lucky."

"Wait!" Stephanie pleaded, but Jezzie snapped her fingers and the three women vanished, leaving only an echo of their cries of despair.

Jezzie looked up at the heavens. "You win," she said in defeat, "...again." She took a long puff on her Pandora.Fuck. So close. I really thought I had this one. So much for the end of mankind. She stood up and brushed the dirt from her backside, and as she did so, something in the back seat of the Mercedes caught her eye. With a snap of a finger, the item flew into her waiting hands. She smiled, and again looked up at the heavens. "Can I at least keep the box?" There was no reply, which she knew, of course, was as good as a "yes" answer.

Jezzie turned and began to walk down the center of the road away from the scene of the accident. She placed her cigarette in her mouth and began to puff on it freehanded as she stroked the top of the small wooden chest. There would be, she had to conclude, no end of days; but at least God would allow her to continue to make a lot more mischief with Pandora's Box.

END/B>