With Religious Gatherings Suspended, Blucifer's Power Grows
Seizing the opportunity to expand upon feeble minds of the populous, the 32-foot tall art installation known to many as Blucifer has only grown more powerful as religious gatherings remain suspended. “Whatever influence organized religion once held over the demonic wrath of the cobalt stallion has now withered,” said local horse psychic Amber Axiom, adding that the plexiglass blue mustang sculpture may be amassing devoted disciples at an unprecedented rate. “Blucifer yearns to fulfill the ancient prophecy, and will stop at nothing to lay waste to metro Denver and all incorporated areas. Follow me on Instagram.” Axiom warned locals against blaspheming horsekind at least until order is restored, or the apocalypse is nigh.
Following the hiatus on religious gatherings to prevent the spread of COVID-19, locals have reported numerous occult activities nearby Blucifer’s altar outside Denver International Airport. “I had my radio on as I was on my way to pick up my brother who had just landed, and all of a sudden the dang thing starts wiggin’ out,” reported bar owner Gus Michaels, describing the broadcast as a mashup of “The War of the Worlds” and the Kentucky Derby. “Before I know it, my speedometer is on the fritz and I wake up two days later in an abandoned movie theater, which is somehow playing the director’s cut of ‘Seabiscuit’ in every auditorium. Oh and hey, please don’t post that last part. I told my wife I was in a hotel room binge-eating chalupas. I couldn’t live with her knowing I watched the director’s cut of a Tobey Maguire movie.”
As Blucifer fortifies supernatural reign over Denver, many fear how this bloodthirsty colt might escalate the inevitable reckoning. “Well usually at this point, an apocalyptic force would appoint four horsemen, but something tells me Blucifer won’t take kindly to any sort of jockey, no matter how effectively they can rain fire from the heavens,” said theology professor Samantha Ripling, suggesting equine enthusiasts to free their livestock sooner rather than later. “The playbook is out on this one. All I can say is this: until humanity can exorcise this malicious mustang, expect horse-hell on earth.”
At press time, Blucifer summoned a hail storm of sugar cubes shortly before unleashing pure hellfire from it’s veiny, blood-red eyes.
Jeremy is a comedy writer, improviser, and musician based out of Denver. Along with writing about himself in the third person, Jeremy enjoys trucks, beer, and appearing relatable to the working class, rural American.