come a little closer, said the spider to the fly -- mia

[curbside prophecies]

<center>



Demon come forth,
even if it be God I call forth
standing like a carrion,
wanting to eat me,
starting at the lips and tongue.
And me wanting to glide into His spoils,
I take bread and wine,
and the demon giggles,
at my letting God out of my mouth
anonymous woman
at the anonymous altar.

-- Anne Sexton, "Demon."</center>

[curbside prophecies]

They say that prostitution is the oldest profession, and they're right, though they don't realize just how old it actually is. In the beginning, when He created his kingdom in the Sublunar world of constant change and decay, the Sins were given out to his most trusted servants. Beelzebub was given Pride and the prick has been creating his flock of arrogant men ever since, and so on and so forth. But me? I was given Lust. You could say that I was the one that started the oldest profession.

But I did not break into this game to earn a few miserable pieces of change, I was sent to create chaos -- to change the world to fit His vision. I was sent to Greece and went by the name Helen in order to tempt the weak-minded Paris into believing he loved me. It did not take long for his lust to bring about the end of the ancient world, starting with Her favorite city, Troy, and the 'great warrior' Hector. I can still see the savage fires eating away at that great city every time I close my eyes. It was quite a party.

I remember the days of Camelot, with the castle of stone rising from the ashes of the Roman ruins and creating a beacon of hope for the huddled masses who preyed for salvation from the cruelty of war and famine. Arthur Pendragon united England under a Christian banner, with his brave knights by his side, guided by a noble purpose. It was so noble that it had to be tarnished -- and that was where I came in. How could Arthur not fall in love with the naive Guinevere. I did make an excellent Queen, if I do say so myself. I remember the first time I saw Lancelot: walking into the Great Hall with a bold stride and his hawk brown eyes daring anyone to challenge his might. I could taste his pride, his righteousness and knew he would be the one. He would be my Paris and Camelot would fall.

In the end, it took little time at all to tempt Lancelot into my bed and even less time to break noble Arthur's spirit. He welcomed the French with open arms and did not say a word when they burned Camelot to the ground and slaughtered everyone, himself included. Poor Arthur. I suppose I should feel pity for him -- but I'm afraid that's just not in my make-up.

I have played many roles over the centuries: Cleopatra, Bloody Mary, Marie Antoinette, Eva Braun, etc. But this? This shall be my greatest role yet.

[curbside prophecies]

The Halls were a strange place; Mia only dared to enter the lower levels, the upper ones were too crazy for her tastes, and that was saying something. Saint had told her the proper times to arrive, since she didn't want to run into dear old John while taking care of business with Kahn. She picked her way through the narrow hallway carefully; she thought it seemed to be getting narrower while she walked, but she figured it was just her mind playing tricks on her.

"Who said you could come here?" The voice was worn, a sign of age.

"Why Kahn, is that any way to greet an old friend?" she asked while turning around, but there wasn't any sign of the old man.

"Since when are we friends, Lillith?"

"We've always been friends, Kahn. Now why don't you come out so we can chat?"

"I can't do that unless you bring some tea -- tea, tea, tea, tea for me." His laughter proved that Saint was right; his sanity was slipping away.

"I don't have any tea with me right now, Kahn... but I do have a present for you."

"What is it?" He stepped through one of the "walls," but didn't come any closer just yet.

"It must get pretty lonely up here, hm? All by yourself surrounded by memories, no one to talk to -- well, there's John, but he thinks you're crazy. He told Her all about it."

"He -- what?"

"Yes, he told Her you weren't up to the Game anymore, Kahn. That it was time she put you out to pasture."

Flustered, Kahn slipped off into another language (it sounded like Gibberish), gesturing wildly while his face scrunched up with anger. Mia watched the display with a bored tick of her brow, biting the inside of her cheek so she wouldn't yawn.

"Fascinating," murmured once she was sure he was finished with his ranting and raving. "But He doesn't think you should be retired yet, Kahn. He's always been on your side."

"People aren't friends with the devil. The devil went down to Georgia, he was lookin' for a soul to steal --"

"--We all know the song, Kahn."

"You're no fun," he pouted, crossing arms over his chest.

"But people can be friends with the devil, Kahn. He's not asking for your soul. He just wants a trade."

"A trade?"

"Mhm. You make things very interesting here and He'll make sure She doesn't touch you."

Kahn eyed her for a long moment before nodding. "Done -- now, where's my tea? And don't scrimp me on the sugar."