ELIJAH
After the night at the compound where Richard and the sheriff of this small town lent their hands in nailing a man to a cross and lifting him above the pews of my sanctuary to let him die slowly, the sheriff and his brother, Gentry, had been instrumental in bringing the town around to my cause, in convincing them that the only way to combat their misfortune was to destroy the evil infecting this area.
In truth, there was no special evil they had to worry about, nothing remotely different than that suffered by the rest of the world, but in the weeks they’d distanced themselves from the news, television shows and other lifelines to the world outside this rural area, the townspeople had sunken deep into my insanity, the seeds planted in their heads over the months I’d played the part of parish priest finally blooming into hysteria that I would use to my ultimate advantage.
While standing by the altar, I shook the hands of the idiots who truly believed I could deliver Heaven to them on Earth, the ones who thanked me endlessly while not realizing that they were being used as a means to my end. The deaths were stacking up, the nightly ceremonies we held while sacrificing the poor condemned souls that hadn’t done anything to deserve the methods of their death, and the entire time, I documented the town’s activities via the security cameras I’d installed and kept hidden from the family. Not one person knew their faces were recorded for eternity taking part in the cruel and heartless destruction of liars and thieves, rapists and other such violent types.
Eventually, the destruction spread to the parish itself and I made sure to record those scenes as well. Once my plan was finished, once I had all the evidence I needed to show that true evil existed beneath the guise of religion, I would finally have my revenge against a Church that had learned over the centuries how to hide their disgusting crimes.
I wasn’t the only man benefiting from the hysteria. Richard, too, enjoyed the fruits of our labors, having his fun and taking his time to help exorcise the lustful demons in the younger girls who believed me when I told them that their impure thoughts would become their destruction. The fact these morons so easily believed me only proved what I’d believed about the faithful all along: It wasn’t peace and kind manners that led them inside the parish doors each Sunday to hear the message of God, it was the belief that they gained power and protection by subscribing to a fantasy that someone beyond the Earthly plane gave enough of a damn about them to influence their fate.
Nobody gave a damn, not Christ and not the Father. Because if they had, I wouldn’t have been used as a fuck boy for holy men my entire childhood. I wouldn’t have been a punching bag for a father who was so far gone in his beliefs that he didn’t see the abuse as anything more than an unfortunate necessity to remove the sin from my body.
He’d thought he was saving me from myself without realizing he was weakening me for the true wolves that lived inside the parish, using me for their hidden sins while reminding me there wasn’t a soul on this Earth who would believe me if I reported them for what they’d done.
It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Men such as them had existed since the beginning of the Church in ancient times. And it was for that reason alone that I had to endure the abuse and humiliation in order to become the monster who would be strong enough to destroy them all.
The parishioners saw their way out of the parish, one by one, slowly wandering off to their bleak little lives believing they watched something truly holy this Sunday at the parish. Richard stood beside me wrapping a robe over the newest young woman who believed wanting to kiss her boyfriend was enough of a sin that she needed to turn herself over to the Church for redirection. It was a new type of confession I’d given the parishioners, a public repudiation of their own thoughts, hidden desires and beliefs. They were truly stupid – all of them.
Once we were alone and Richard was practically drooling over the young woman that stood at least a foot shorter than him, I turned to find the woman who had become my obsession.
Eve was growing back into a healthy body, the weight she was regaining forcing her body to round at the hips and breasts, her skin no longer ashen and sallow, but full of life with the rosy glow that always graced her cheeks. She was truly obedient to me now that she believed I’d destroyed the last demon plaguing her and had made her my true and proper wife.
However, when I scanned my eyes through the sanctuary, over the pews, past the walls filled with paintings and other religious symbols, I came to the realization that Eve was nowhere to be found.
My head snapped to Richard. “Have you seen Eve anywhere?”
He dragged his filthy gaze up from the poor girl who had no clue what would happen to her. No, he wouldn’t kill her, wouldn’t damage her in any way that drew attention, but he would free her of the purity she carried while promising her it was the only way to remove her sin. His eyes searched the room before he shrugged a shoulder. “She was here just a minute ago. Waiting for you like always near the hallway back to the rectory. Maybe she went in your room to wait for you.”
Eve knew better than to be out of my sight, but perhaps she assumed the safety of my bedroom was good enough. My legs were moving in the direction of the hallway while I belted out, “Stay here in case she went somewhere else and comes back. I’ll go check the rectory.”
My feet couldn’t carry me fast enough down the narrow corridors leading to the small, boring room Jacob had slept in for twelve fucking years while convincing himself he was a good man. As I turned one corner, walked down another hall to turn another corner, I thought of my wayward brother and laughed to myself at how easy it had been to oust him from his holy throne so that I could take over the town he’d worked so desperately to lead to a light that didn’t exist.
In truth, I’d always harbored ill feelings toward my brother. I’d regretted that we were twins, believed that, in the womb, he had somehow reached into me to steal the strength away so that he could harbor it to himself. He had been the one to stop our father’s abuse, he had been the one to avoid being used as a human pincushion for those sick fucks who walked around feeding religion to a large parish.
At one time I’d envied my brother, and during the times when we shared women, I’d believed I was the superior brother because I had been the one to take the women first, to steal their purity and watch it drip down my cock as the crimson evidence of my race to their finish line. Jacob never argued who would take them the first time, and I’d believed it was because he understood that I would fight him for that honor, but then as the years passed by and as I watched him transition into the worst kind of monster, I understood that, to him, it had never been about stripping the good little girls of their virginity, it had always been about who would control them in the end.
They may have fucked me with sweet smiles on their bullshit faces, but their eyes had always been locked on my brother, their hearts becoming his as soon as he stepped up to take what remained after I was done with them and transform it into the perfect slave.
It was Jacob who had taught me what to do with Eve, and it was Jacob who I could thank for the perfect woman I’d created from the girl I’d met when she was first brought into the family.
Perhaps I should have thanked him for that one small favor, but I couldn’t find it in myself to forgive him. Still, even with the hatred I held for him and the anger that coated my tongue each time I thought about the unfairness in our young lives, I couldn’t bring myself to kill him. I still harbored something inside me that needed my brother alive, I still loved him despite the way he’d sat with our piece of shit mother and had listened to my cries.
My father would beat me until I couldn’t stand any longer and neither my mother nor my twin could find it within themselves to climb down those steps into the basement to free me from the violence of a madman.
Reaching the bedroom door, I slammed my hand down on the knob, twisting it as I shoved the door in. I’d gotten one foot inside by the time I had a full view of the room to realize Eve wasn’t here as I’d hoped she’d be. Quickly crossing the small space, I peeked inside the bathroom to find it empty as well.
Rage crawled through me, clinging to my bones with desperate fingers begging to ignite into the intolerable heat of pure, undiluted fury.
I was practically racing on my way back to the sanctuary, my eyes sharp and my muscles tight across my body. Richard was standing in the same place, patiently waiting for me to return with the good little girl standing still in front of him.
“Did she come back here?” I asked, practically screaming.
Richard shook his head, his eyes rounding as he came to the same conclusion as me.
Throwing my hands out, I directed him to the back hallways of the parish, while I ran toward the front. “Find her, Richard. I don’t give a shit if you have to tear the walls down until she’s found. If we don’t find her inside the parish, we’ll search outside. Where the fuck could she have gone?”
Richard lumbered off to do as I said while I peeked a head inside the kitchen to find it empty. The offices and bathrooms were empty as well, not a soul to be found in any of the small rooms of the parish.
Within minutes both Richard and I were outside scanning the large yard and the woods beyond, my fury ratcheting higher until all I saw was red.
“What do you want to do? Is it possible she went back to the compound?”
I shook my head, completely irate that she’d wandered off without me. As soon as I found the son of a bitch that led her away, I’d be sure to nail his body to one of my crosses.
“You better hope she’s at the fucking compound. If not, I will kill each and every son of a bitch inside this town until I’ve found my fucking wife!”