Doll has Eyes (I): Steroid

First in my trilogy-three of doll-exorcism world-superstition; and this 1st-fiction finds an athlete giving time-capsule re-telling of demon-thorn block.

Exorcist films changed the way we looked at interventions in spiritualism for priest-omens of direction in darkness for human realm heroics/thought, and I wanted a late-Summer 'fanfiction' series about the weight of this franchise for what it caught for our social-net 'intelligence' for basic social/civilization deformity, and this first one in my 3-installment stories concerns the 'accessible' darkness of performance-enhancing steroids (for long-distance running), since it's the Summer of the Paris Games (Olympics). Thanks for reading, 

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I'm burying this telling in a time-capsule story, in my New England backyard, and it concerns some future-world archaeologist who'll discover it for my/our 21st-Century Earthling-Selfie culture of competition-vanities for network fantasy and 'overground' sane human-realm choreography. I'm the protagonist, since I'm an ex-runner, long-distance trained, who suffered from the evils of steroids-use for Selfie-citizenry commentators/critics.

I knew of the leviathan/uncertainty of performance-enhancing drugs (steroids) for media-revelations, and I knew of the news-controversy surrounding iconic home-run hitters (baseball), weightlifters for Summer Olympics competition, and football tacklers of defense/offense ambitions, but I considered my softer/quieter Olympics-caliber long-distance investments for what I had practiced and practiced in the streets of Boston-town, running out of my shoes, for miles-and-miles, in the dawn-hours of New England, a surefire securities for evasion for any leviathan/uncertainty. However, I wanted some spice to add some muscle endurance and brain-softening which would only come through performance-enhanced reality (steroids) and began to work my muscle-circulation proportions of self-control with drugs, and I felt Catholic (my faith of choice!) regrets. I felt like I cut my heavenly gift with the corrosive acid of vanity (image).

I wanted to temper the arrogance of this pursuit of trophy with a spiritual doll, a religion-whispering doll-angel 'muse' to move me; and I procured this classic-deity doll from eBay and named her Christine. Christine had become my special/secret counselor for incomplete-distances readings of the uncertainty of human disquiet, and I confided in her, as if she was my deity of human-physique silence, and I told her the steroids made me feel like the Flash and not like Ant-Man for shrink-microscopes. The doll began talking to me, and she told me she was a messenger of Lucifer (Satan, the Devil). This was my illusion (for hyperbole).

DOLL: You dream you're some ballet-leap achiever, like Nadia (Comaneci)?

ME: You talk to me, or I'm hallucination-victim, my doll.

DOLL: Your steroids-use has you running like a comfortable walker, man!

ME: You know my senses, and I've no choice but to think you're not me.

DOLL: I'm not you...I've been sent by the Devil (himself!) to entreat your vanity.

ME: I've no immunity from this challenge-adjective for exorcism-retreat, doll?

DOLL: Don't kid yourself, running-man; you fantasize about running forever, yeah?

ME: I shall think this dream-vision is the right cut for self-checks; so I retreat.

DOLL: I'm not your simplified doll for cuddling; I reach your muscles stretched.

ME: I'll bury you in my backyard, with my time-capsule telling-tale, demon-voice.

DOLL: Don't forget what I said about Comaneci, for Earth's punt-kick humility, sir.

ME: Farewell, messenger of the Devil; I find reality whispered (now!).

DOLL: Keep me secret, princely law-sommelier (Selfie-like).

ME: I shall find myself reborn, for Selfie-culture's popcorn.

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)