The First Murderer

Leona was taken into a total darkness, like she entered a hidden world inside the painting. She seemed to be standing on some substance, but when she tried to walk around, the undifferentiated black surroundings made her efforts useless. Then she heard a deep, magnetic male voice from afar, chanting some old verses of unknown origin:

"I dream of the first times,

the longest memory;

I speak of the first times,

the oldest Father;

I sing of the first times,

and the dawn of Darkness…"

She followed the voice, and a male figure faded into her sight. It was the dark-haired Carthaginian in the painting, but not restrained and unclothed, merely standing there, with his back facing her.

And did that mean…he's Cain?

When trying to get closer to him, Leona suddenly felt the softness of soils under her feet. She looked down, finding herself stepping on actual grounds all of a sudden, and looked up to see a primitive yet majestic scenery of plains. Cain was standing in front of a rough stone house surrounded by wooden fences, holding a basket of fresh fruits and vegetables.

"Each of us, in our way,

set about to live

and take our sustenance from the land.

And I, first-born Cain, I,

with sharp things,

planted the dark seeds,

wet them in earth,

tended them, watched them grow…"

Like a storyteller, the more Cain said, the more Leona could see—right after his words, a strong, joyful blonde man came to them, leading the sheep herd back to the pen. Carrying a cute, cloud-like lamb in his hands, the young shepherd walked towards Cain and gave him a brotherly, one-handed hug, as Cain continued:

"And Abel, second-born Abel

tended the animals,

aided their bloody births,

fed them, watched them grow.

I loved him, my Brother.

He was the brightest,

The sweetest,

The strongest.

He was the first part of all my joy."

Even just from the happiness of his voice, Leona could feel the love Cain harbored in his heart, for Abel. She looked at them walking away together in marvel, and followed them in confusion—she didn't know what to do here, because she couldn't interfere anything. Should she just…watch?

She knew the story. It wasn't a happy ending.

"Like our Father said to us,

Cain, Abel to Him Above:

you must make a sacrifice -

a gift of the first part

of all that you have…"

At the direction they proceeded, Leona could discern a faint shape of stone altar. It didn't seem that far, at first, but it moved further away when they got closer, taking forever to reach, as if…the storyteller wanted to stop the time right here.

"And I, first-born Cain, I

gathered the tender shoots,

the brightest fruits,

the sweetest grass,

And Abel, second-born, Abel

slaughtered the youngest,

the strongest,

the sweetest of his animals…"

But they reached their destination still. Abel took out his knife and slitted the throat of his lamb, spilling the blood on the altar, while Cain placed his sacrifice and lit the fire. The brothers—and Leona—watched the smoke floated up, reaching to the Lord who always has "an ineffable, great plan".

And out of the blue, an invisible strength threw Cain away from the Altar, whereas a gentle, white light of holiness descended upon Abel.

"The sacrifice of Abel, second-born,

smelled sweet to the One Above

and Abel was blessed.

And, I, first-born Cain, I

was struck from beyond by

a harsh word and a curse,

for my sacrifice was unworthy…"

The sky and the land both darkened, sinking the whole world into the night. Cain, whose body was aching because the punishment of God, crawled his way back to the altar, looked at the burnt, black remains of the lamb, cried and prayed, night after night, even forgot about eating, sleeping, and his farming.

Though being the favored one, Abel didn't alienate or even show a single sign of dislike to his brother. Every night he would bring food and clothes here, holding a torch, comforting Cain, even praying beside him, to ask the forgiveness of the One Above for his brother.

Cain gazed at the face of Abel, as if he was the only consolation in this darkness. When praying, there was an angelic halo on Abel's face, radiant even at night—the blessing of the Lord, for the true devotion and the pure kindness.

And he suddenly realized something. Leona, too.

"Oh God…" Upon the realization, Leona shuddered and gasped. But no one could hear her.

The love for Abel in Cain's eyes blackened, dismal and almost mournful for the horrifying truth he just discovered. He shivered for the battle that was frying his mind and conscious, lowered his head towards the ground, as if he couldn't now even bear the sight of his brother.

The next night, he stopped praying altogether.

"And when Father said

the time for Sacrifice has come again…"

The storyteller, in Cain's voice, started again cruelly. It was a still beautiful, cloudless day, Abel proudly brought his lamb, his fruit of labor in front of the altar.

"And Abel led his youngest,

his sweetest,

his most beloved

to the sacrificial fire;

I did not bring my youngest,

my sweetest,

for I knew the One Above would not want them…"

Looking at the empty hands of Cain, Abel asked confusedly:

"Cain, why did you not bring a sacrifice,

a gift of the first part of your joy,

to burn on the altar of the One Above?"

There was no blame in his tone, simply anxiety out of the care he had for his older brother. Such love, such…innocence.

If at this moment…Leona thought. If Abel could show the slightest disdain for Cain, giving Cain a reason to hate him and to feel righteous about it, then maybe what was coming next wouldn't happen. But he would never do that, did he? Otherwise he wouldn't be Abel, the Abel. His heart was so saintly and virtuous, that it made the sufferings of Cain so…unworthy of mentioning, so…petty.

And that was where the shame came from. With shame, rose anger.

"I cried tears of love as I, with sharp things,

sacrificed that which was the first part of my joy,

my brother."

Cain thrust the blade into Abel's body, the blade that Abel used to killed his lamb, and lay his body on the altar, lighting it up with fire.

The blood of an innocent. It smelt…so sweet to Leona's vampire nose.

But the burning of the body didn't seem to stop the bleeding. That warm, blooming red kept pouring out from the fire, rushing and painting everything in sight with its contagious color: the altar, the helpless lamb, the house behind them, everything…even the vast, borderless land.

And so Cain fell, and Leona fell with him, in this alarmingly scarlet abyss, the deeper they fell, the darker it became. On top of them, the thick, viscid stream of blood formed a gigantic, terrible face, shouting in rage:

"Cursed are you, Cain,

who killed your brother!

As I was cast out,

so shall you be!"

It was the face of Adam, father of the two brothers. Every word he said formed into an undercurrent, pushed Cain deeper, and deeper, until everything returned to the beginning, black void. The condemned First Murderer crumbled, and the crimson strings Leona saw in the painting aroused like sprouts of evil seeds, shrouded Cain in his desperate slumber.

"And He exiled me to wander in Darkness,

the land of Nod…"

Then the black in this space started to have lines, shapes and shades, crooking and twisting, depicting a grey, lifeless wilderness. Cain got up, naked, stumbled aimlessly in this ominous land. The strings were still binding his limbs, making every step he took a struggle.

Leona moved along his shallow, strength-less footprints, watching his feet blistered and bled while he trod on the crude rock and the sharp stones. He didn't react to this physical ache, as if it was intentional, for self-punishment.

Even for a bystander, the scene was unbearable.

"I flew into the Darkness,

I saw no source of light,

and I was afraid...

And alone."

His voice, insensitive and thoughtless.