evil - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
The evil dark, not the noble dark, will come at you through your primitive drive. Any hunter will go for the weak spot of an animal, and that's yours, my love. First there will be a trigger to open up the primitive drive, activate it as fully as possible, then will come the impulse to cause harm, one that hurts both others and yourself. Your only protection is to love fully. Love yourself. Love others. Be present in the moment. Question your own actions - own them fully for regardless of the evil force, except in the case of true insanity, they are yours. And long after we have forgiven you, you will struggle to forgive yourself. If an action feels as if it comes from your survival drive, with a feeling of malice, hate or fear - stop. If an action feels as if it comes from your higher thinking mind and with a feeling of love, kindness and compassion - go.
Some people say I'm evil, but I say I'm just wired differently. Others look at a squirrel and see something cute, but I see something I can kill. I don't want to just shoot it though, I want to see how long it can last while I disembowel it nice and slow. I want to see the light go out in it's rodent eyes while I examine it's innards. I could say it's for science, but that would be a lie. The truth is I enjoy it. I get a kick out of it. And I'll record it on my phone too so I can play it over and over to relive the moment. Just be glad it's a squirrel in my sights right now, soon I'll graduate to bigger and better things. In some human cultures a guy like me would be valued for our skills, we'd be honoured. Maybe I'll go abroad and be some kind of mercenary one day.
I am nothing more than a visionary with a dream. I don't care what you think of me as long as you obey. I acknowledge that I have odd methods, but they work. I know what life should be like and I understand that many things and creatures are inferior to me. In my position it is simply mercy. I know if I don't save them with the wonders of death. they will die in the horror of life.
Evil rubbed his hands together in that classic way villains do, he wasn't about to pretend to be anything other than what he was. He enjoyed it, to him making more money, taking more power was only a game. He placed his moves and sat back for his opponent to make the move he knew they would. Really, where was the challenge in that? But it was more fun than not playing at all. His moves were all variations on the same thing. Being rich it was simple, first offer your "deputies" money with some power mixed in, that pretty much worked every time. They sold their morals, ignored their moral compasses for such low prices and the price was falling every day. Second keep the "little people" distracted with greed and vanity. "Look, Kim K has curves! She's blonde! She got engaged/married/divorced/married. Look wedding photos! Baby photos! Enter the lottery! Win a vacation!" It was so simple. Scare them with the news, tell them "products" would make them happy again. Simple, simple.
As his game wound to an end the money would be in the hands of just a few, the children would be starving, their parents too distracted with survival to ask intellectual questions, the young would be mutinous having been dragged up by frustrated and angry adults. The earth would have a run-away green house effect, the ecosystem ruined. But he would be rich, he would live in his air conditioned palace while billions starved and waged war over the scraps. He knew that a simple change of his ways would stop all that but it was too much fun being the pied piper of hell. So he kept on playing and the people danced after him for luxury products and a chance in millions to be one of the new "kings," one of the "celebrities." God was so busy trying to help all those people that Evil was sure of his victory. Were these little "sheep" going to tell him "No"? Hardly. The Loving God was going to lose. They'd never find their moral compasses in time, let alone have the faith to operate by them.
I sat at the table playing poker with that joker, Satan. He deals with a grin, that founder of sin. “Boy,” he says, “You can’t win.” I pick up my hand, and it is not so grand. I see two eights, a king, and two twos. I try not to react, but he sees though the pack. I throw down the eights; take a chance with my fate.
“Two, please, Mr. Devil Man.” He deals himself none, as if he already won. He throws two to my place, and once more, he reads my face. I have zip, a five and a four. I hoped for more. He opens his lips in his devil smile, “What’s your bet, Boy?” I can’t fold, but I have no gold. “How about your soul?” Is he bluffing and lying? I can’t give in. If I lose, I’m dying.
“Okay, one soul and what will you bet?”
He whispers, “The best I say. I’ll leave you alone for a day.”
“You win,” I’m about to give in, when blood pours on my cards. I turn about, and The Man on the cross shouts, “Boy, My blood covers your sin.” I turn my cards and sing, “Four aces and One King.”
Roy gave sociopaths a bad name. Others found it easy to trust Roy. He had an easy going style, but it was this conniving persona that made him dangerous. He hid his true self like a snake covered with leaves. There was no indication of evil intent, no hint of self deviant motives. Roy didn't care who got hurt because his passion is power. He hid behind a congenial mask of concern even as he planned to control others. He never wasted a minute on anyone who was not in a position that he coveted. He learned in grade school how to get an "in" with teacher. In solid with the teacher, and he had power over classmates as "hall monitor." Now, with this wall street firm, Roy has moved up in power. He rose through the ranks and at this board meeting, he has worked to undercut his boss. The present C.E.O. didn't know that he would be voted out, and Roy had the votes to become boss. A "cut throat" usually attacks from behind. No one suspected how evil Roy was, until it was way too late.
The devil is not evil ,the only evil ones are us.
Some people are born good and always fight off the bad. Some people are born bad and become good through great effort. Others are born in light and fall to darkness. And others are born in darkness and cannot see the light.
Try as you might to believe otherwise, everyone fits into one of those categories. Which one are you? Are you good or bad? Light or dark? An angel or a demon?
I know what I am.
When I came of age I realised the life ahead of me was one of anger, pain and hatred. Of darkness. Did I want that?
Yeah. I did.
I grew up surrounded by fire and ash and poison and death. It was the only thing I knew, so of course I wanted it. I was never taught what love was. What kindness was. In fact, in my entire childhood I think I saw just one type of smile - a smile full of malice and cruel intent.
It was all I knew.
I was trained to be the perfect killer. Battle axes, daggers, swords, maces, bows and arrows. Put a weapon in my hand and chances are I would use it to bludgeon you to death.
For three decades I slaved away, learning ever more imaginative ways to torture and kill. And I enjoyed it, because I knew of no other life.
"Babe, you cannot be fully angelic unless you possess the ability to be truly evil; goodness is a choice. It is feeling the power of darkness and walking the other way no matter how painful. It is looking in the mirror with open eyes and learning how to change until you love who you are. Goodness is an exercise in free will; this life will reveal all within you, yet choose wisely the pieces with which you build yourself. All roads back into the light are pain ten fold, your soul a magnifying glass for your guilt. Take heart, be brave, acknowledge and own your capacity for evil - for it is only by the darkness that the brilliance of pure light can shine as a beacon for others. Your destiny is to lead, not from your own demand, but because you are the brightest star in this black night."
The anger from my eyes showed the scared child within?
The girl who was taught to fight? Denied the love she craved?
I knew the pain beneath it, the grief that came in waves,
Soul drowning in the persona she'd created to fit to the indifference,
Turning the pain to anger, she boiled in the lava of her anger,
It churned within, hungry for destruction, well, I know why.
The pressure of this raging sea of anger, shutting out the world,
Darkness swallowing me whole, from head to toe,
Fire of fury and hatred swimming in narrow brown eyes,
The anger like a looming huntress, lurking at night,
Underestimate her, and boo! She's ready to strike,
You see the threat, and she plays the game right.
Hurricane of the harsh, hoarse insults out,
Face bright red, well, like a ripe tomato? Ugh,
She says- 'Blood was bound to be spilled, feelings hurt',
'What made you this way, angel of death,' they ask all the time,
A throaty laugh, much more like the devil, she said-
"I was too vulnerable to withstand the heat, they misused that."