Seth

Seth. I can recall the day I met him. He wore a black slim fit tee shirt and jeans, black combat boots, black and gold cuffs around his forearms and biceps, and a gold necklace with shards of black and red gems imbedded in the metal. His irises were a deep brown colour with flecks of black and more golden browns scattered evenly throughout. If I were to be honest, I’d have to say that I thought he was a drug lord. That was until he took me to his home after slyly avoiding the question of occupation through our entire first date. He was no drug lord, but an artist.

Paintings hung neatly on the walls as if his living room were an art gallery. Lounge chairs and sofas were placed strategically at choice spots across the spacious room. Statues stood securely bolted to the floor in each corner, all of ancient Egyptian gods, though Anubis was the only one I could recognize. I assumed that the paintings were all depictions of Egyptian gods, as well. Green, gold, black, and white dominated each of the twenty plus paintings, with the occasional red and purple highlights.

I was awestruck. “Everything is so organized. Most artists seem more… chaotic.” A smirk was all he could muster in reply. We continued the casual conversation from our date until he escorted me to the door with his arm around my waist. “You’re not going to show me to your room and try to seduce me with your charms?” I said with a joking smile.

Without haste or hesitation, he brought my chest to his and pressed our lips together, waiting several blissful seconds to break the kiss and open his eyes again. “My room is… not exactly fit for presentation. Have a good night, Amy.”

As I grew to know him more, I found out that his little home art shop was open every Saturday and Sunday from noon until four, and that he sold enough to distant and local Egypt-enthusiasts alike each week to get by with hundreds to spare. He hadn’t seen either of his parents in years, though there were no family problems that he mentioned. I was simply too shy to tell mine that I was dating an artist, something which had always been frowned upon in my home. We stayed at my place a few nights and he told me of the long time he had spent in Egypt, which had certainly played a role in their absence from his life. “It was amazing! I lived in a sort of miniature temple with about fifteen other people and probably twenty dogs, maybe more. Anyway, as I’m sure you know by now, I absolutely love Egypt.”

“And I absolutely love you.” It was less than half a second later that I realized what I said, and my eyes grew wide with worry. His hand touched my shoulder and a shiver ran through my rapidly freezing body.

He then took me into his decorated arms and spoke, “I absolutely love you, too.” We just stood in a warm embrace of indeterminate time until we nearly collapsed. Awkward laughs were repeatedly interrupted by brief but impassioned kisses. Our faces possessed a happiness that couldn’t possibly be described.

Time went on and I could swear that we only grew closer with each passing moment. Hours every day were spent just talking and laughing, sharing stories both real and fictitious. I began to learn more about what he was interested in, even memorizing some of the deities shown in his artwork. Horus, Isis, Osiris, Nephthys… I thought that I even heard him mention one god that he was named after, but I couldn’t be sure, and his name didn’t come up again in the following weeks. There were times when I knew I could have stayed with him forever.

We had spent the evening at his place and just finished a delicious spaghetti dinner. I had never been happier than when I was with him, but there was something on my mind that I just couldn’t hold back anymore. “It’s been months and we haven’t even had a single argument… I’m just worried that something worse than a fight is on the horizon.”

Our eyes locked, an unspoken message passing between us before I glanced back down at my empty plate, embarrassed. “Don’t worry.” He stood, circled the table, and spoke in soft, sympathetic voice, “I love you so much.” He pressed his lips gently against my forehead before he opened them once more, “I’ll be right back, I just have to use the washroom.”

Feeling renewed and somewhat daring, I followed him down the hall and stopped at a black door with a golden handle. Surely this was his room, the room I still hadn’t seen. I took a deep breath and twisted the polished metal, pushing the door open and peeking around the corner. The first thing that caught my attention was the light. Completely natural light filtering down through the glass roof from a starry summer sky. My bare feet touched the sandstone floor, which was painted black everywhere except for a few square feet in front of the doorway. The room only held two pieces of furniture: an all-black bed, and a black dresser where three distinctly different knives sat proud. One was hook-like, another was dagger-like, and the third was more of a hatchet. Each had a black handle, complete with rubies, and a solid gold blade. Well kept, there wasn’t a single stain on them.

The walls were completely black, or so I thought, until a mural that covered the entire back of the room came into focus. A life-sized man with the head of an animal directly faced the door, staring into the eyes of anyone who entered. To his left stood the same animal in its pure form: a canine-like beast with a bent snout, rectangular ears, and a forked tail. It’s fur was varying shades of red, except around its scarlet eyes, where the hairs turned black. To the right of the man’s face, scrawled boldly in crimson, was the name “SETH”. My jaw slowly unhinged. I looked back at the center painting and saw that he wore the exact same golden cuffs and necklace as the man I thought I had come to know so well. He was the same height. He had the same legs, the same chest, the same arms. The only difference was the head, that completely unknown and ungodly creature.

“The god of chaos,” a wretchedly alien voice tore at my eardrums. “Familiar and uncanny, is it not?” I turned to face him. He still wore the same black clothes and golden accessories which bore the slightest hint of red, with one added item: the dagger. Black had overtaken his eyes. His teeth shone white. He pushed me against the wall, against that cursed painting, and brought the blade to my throat.

“Seth…” Fear flowed from my mouth. My desperate eyes begged him, pleaded with him. My abandoned tears fell to his feet and worshipped him.

“Seth.” A deadly smile cut across his face as the golden edge disappeared into a flood of red. His bloodied, exhilarated face flashed unrelentingly in the never-ending darkness…