Possession: Theater-of-Bonds

A Story by Abishai100

Narrated time-capsule telling (or 'claim') of an American prince drawn to heroics-games (and vigilante dare by Lucifer) for a 'father-land' eye.

An epic offbeat mission 'faerie-tale' inspired by the real tragedy-superstitions omen Amityville: Possession (Burt Young).

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I was hiding at a TV-lounge hotel-pit (Inn-Express) in Amityville (USA) one night my parents were in troubles while Emit (father) was in one of his fits-of-fury about a gambling-loss for Super Bowl TV-culture hospitality superstitions (photo-synthesis).

Friends, I'd become a drinking bank-robber in the American Homeland. Despite my immigrant-citizenry Catholic patriot-status as a man of Amityville (USA), my troubles consciousness at home drove me insane, and I sought some 'James Bond' image of escapism and found eco-capitalism vigilante 'theater' for soul-alarms of the 3rd kind (leviathan). In my house, there was only my parents, my sister (a schoolteacher), and me, Mr. Amlan Satan. I only cheered Halloween Selfie-IQ for my enduring Catholic faith when the Devil (Lucifer) contacted me (wow).

SATAN (Lucifer): We share a nominal-name link, human.

ME (Amlan Satan): There's an ice-hockey figure with surname 'Satan' too, you know?

SATAN: You know my agenda here/now, man?
ME: I think I can guess you're offering me complexity-theory for my life-condition?

SATAN: Good language-answer, Amlan Satan; your Amityville house is horror, surely.

ME: It's driven me to drink and bad-heroics fantasy, for my sister's considerations.

SATAN: Good...well, this is a wager for your enhanced newfound life of deeds.

ME: New?

SATAN: Selfie-like (follow me!).

ME: This is fiction (surely).

The Devil offered me a special net-link to a roadways smugglers-intercepts game of rumored/insured 'blood-diamonds' (conflict-zone mined gems from African shores) linking to underground/invisible 'rogue' finances/arms motions bridging to the UK and offering modern Western woes for smugglers-zone exploitation 'laughter' of the 3rd kind. The Devil (Satan) made claim that if I'd agree to become some kind of bombs-and-gloves gem-transports smugglers-intercepts 'James Bond' character, perhaps for the Irish Republican Army's newfound consumerism-securities 'linked' agenda for Catholic-Protestant capitalism insurance in Northern Ireland (UK), I'd offer my sister (in Amityville!) some special 'adjective' for learning (Selfie-like). What would I do? I offer this (secret!) Catholic-biased telling in a time-capsule I'm burying in my American backyard (for the Ego, for fiction!).

SISTER: You're studying acid-warfare for eco-capitalism fantasy!

ME: I have to do this...this will give us some license for UK-travel and class.

SISTER: This is crazy, brother; we're not heroes, merely Catholic survivors at home.

ME: I know that, sis...this is merely (American) sideshow for eco-politics interest.

SISTER: What, Interpol's gonna gift us some Belgian (Brussels!) cottage-bond?

ME: That's the photo-synthesis (for leviathan).

I took Lucifer's 'vampire-bargain' and became a lone agent of my self-titled vigilante operation of non-Irish Catholic heroics-class, the "Foreign Irish Republican Army" and offered some cyber-storyboard 'art' complement for eco-capitalism challenges to the proverbial fatherlands of inventive Earthling governance image for capitalism/insurance fiction of the high-spiritual variety, but did the Devil trick me into some self-veiled heroics-fantasy for escape to accrue some 'James Bond' honors for my sister, for us to 'escape' to Belgium with a post-work retirement right turn (in Brussels)?

SISTER: I love this art, brother.

ME: Hey, thanx...it's a nod to that classic comic era of avatar-rich action/worlds.

SISTER: So, Interpol's sayin' they got a special Western gem-smugglers interceptor.

ME: That's me, James Bond of Amityville maps (and still a fan of American sports).

LUCIFER (Satan, the Devil): Your sister made you curry-stew for Saint Patrick's Day?
ME: Good hospitality-reading for my nerves...I'm scaling this post-work retirement.

LUCIFER: So, the world forces of action/heroics boasts soldiers with spirit-motive.

ME: Hey, sometimes escape can breed a good deed for the books (even domestic).

LUCIFER: Who'd think eco-capitalism would host a 'son-of-perdition' for the books?

ME: Maybe you've proven your point...war is real (fathers/sons; fatherlands).

LUCIFER: Ha, this will be a nifty 'adjective' for Irish pubs, American son (good).

ME: Good fiction surely.

So there I was, working as an 'insider-man' of eco-capitalism smugglers-roadways intercepts with my veiled self-titled action-organized 'force' (Foreign Irish Republican Army), moved by Lucifer's challenge-game to allow my own Amityville religion-spirit domestic-conditions nerves sensitivities to inspire a new form of vigilantism 'consciousness' as an incomplete James Bond. At the very least, I stopped drinking (Selfie-like!).