Satan's Hand

Satan's Hand
by Lisa McCourt Hollar

An ancient legend tells of a sword and stone, but this was
something different. This was no sword that stuck out of the rock, but a hand, completely formed. I fell to my knees before the artifact, completely in awe. It was Satan's Hand and my search had finally come to an end.

Gingerly, I reached out to touch it. The flesh was mummified and I hesitated, concerned that I might damage the talisman. I had pursued it's wisdom for over fifty years, forsaking even the woman I loved, to learn the secrets of the jewel that was held within it's grip; knowledge that I had coveted, since first learning of it in the Book of Shadows.

To describe the gem would be impossible. Everyone saw it differently. The thing spoke to each person, reaching into their souls, searching out the desires of those that it would possess. Legend had it that Lucifer took it from God in the final moments of the battle, before he and his followers were cast outside of Heaven's gates. This was the Jewel of God, which would grant he who held it, Eternal Life.

I touched it and a jolt of electricity shot through my body, transforming me into my lord's image. I was no longer alive, yet I wasn't dead. I became something in-between, so that I could serve him better. For a thousand years now, I have passed between hell and this world, collecting souls for my master. It has become easier over the years. So many things to tempt the weak with. That is why I am here today.

That boy over there. He is only ten, but he is going places. No one knows this yet. You can't tell by looking at him. His hair is greasy and it hangs in his face. The girls make fun of him and the boys regularly use him as a whipping board. This is why he will be easy for me to manipulate. He wants the power to make them stop. He wants to make his tormentors bow before him and jump at his command. I can promise him this and more. All he has to do is agree to serve Lucifer and the world will be his.

Ah yes, he sees me now. None of the other children do. They are blinded to my presence as I walk up to the boy whose name will be known and feared for generations after he is gone.

I speak to him. "Hello Adolf"

Word Count: 419
@jezri1