Indeed it was with some pain that she acknowledged the circumstances of her birth: that it had been the devil to first offer congratulations at her cradle, his unwelcome ciphers as inescapable as the wet of rain. Alizeh’s parents had tried, desperately, to banish such a beast from their home, but he had returned again and again, forever embroideringthe tapestry of her life with ominous forebodings, in what seemed a promise of destruction she could not outmaneuver.
Even now she felt the devil’s voice, felt it like a breath loosed inside her body, an exhale against her bones.
There once was a man,he whispered.
“No,” she nearly shouted, panicking. “Not another riddle—please—”
There once was a man, he whispered,who bore a snake on each shoulder.
Alizeh clapped both hands over her ears and shook her head; she’d never wanted so badly to cry.
“Please,” she said, “please don’t—”
Again:
There once was a man
who bore a snake on each shoulder.
If the snakes were well fed
their master ceased growing older.
Alizeh squeezed her eyes shut, pulled her knees to her chest. He wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t shut him out.
What they ate no one knew, even as the children—
“Please,” she said, begging now. “Please, I don’t want to know—”
What they ate no one knew,
even as the children were found
with brains shucked from their skulls,
bodies splayed on the ground.
She inhaled sharply and he was gone, gone, the devil’s voice torn free from her bones. The room suddenly shuddered around her, shadows lifting and stretching—and in the warped light a strange, hazy face peered back at her. Alizeh bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.
It was a young man staring at her now, one she did not recognize.
That he was human, Alizeh had no doubt—but something about him seemed different from the others. In the dim light the young man seemed carved not from clay, but marble, his face trapped in hard lines, centered by a soft mouth. The longer she stared at him the harder her heart raced. Was this the man with the snakes? Why did it even matter? Why would she ever believe a single word spoken by the devil?
Ah, but she already knew the answer to the latter.
Alizeh was losing her calm. Her mind screamed at her to look away from the conjured face, screamed that this was all madness—and yet.
Heat crept up her neck.
Alizeh was unaccustomed to staring too long at any face,and this one was violently handsome. He had noble features, all straight lines and hollows, easy arrogance at rest. He tilted his head as he took her in, unflinching as he studied her eyes. All his unwavering attention stoked a forgotten flame inside her, startling her tired mind.
And then, a hand.
Hishand, conjured from a curl of darkness. He was looking straight into her eyes when he dragged a vanishing finger across her lips.
She screamed.
In the Beginning
