ELIJAH
(Two weeks later)
Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction. – Blaise Pascal
The procession into Sunday Mass was a heavy hearted affair. The parishioners were weighed down by the crimes committed in their city, their faces angling this way and that to look upon the new members who had attended Mass for the first time today.
An air of distrust lingered like a thick cloud as the pomp and circumstance was carried out, as the hymns were sung and as the scripture verses were read. I watched from the pulpit, noticed how people had chosen seats to avoid being close to the confessional where Annabelle had blown herself away, or the center pew where Sister Eunice's body had been found.
Keeping my expression neutral, I cast a glance at Eve where she sat quietly off to the side of the church, her eyes gazing up at the stained glass windows behind me. Rather than the navy blue dresses the women normally wore, they dressed in ordinary outfits to blend in with the townsfolk.
The last scripture was read and it was time for the homily. I had the weight of their burdens fastened securely to my shoulders. It was my intent to ease their frustrations, to quiet the murmurs that God had forgotten them.
"Today's homily won't be my standard message. Not with the pain we've suffered recently. Not with the losses that have shocked our small town."
Lifting my gaze to the congregation I took a moment to make eye contact with the few people who stared ahead. Most had their heads bowed in contemplation.
"As you all know, we've experienced loss. Crimes have been committed that go against the will of God. We've been infected by evil, and I'm sure your hearts are as battered as mine."
Murmurs erupted across the sanctuary. Many nodded their heads in agreement, but a few men lifted their eyes that were narrowed in anger. They took pride in their town, in their homes, and the life they'd built here. They worried how they would protect their families from the tragedies that had befallen the parish.
They were ripe for the picking.
"I'd offer you kind platitudes if I felt that would ease your struggles, but as we all have seen, the tragedy grows worse despite our prayers. Evil has infected our world, and regardless of the devout lives we lead, regardless of our unshakeable faith in the power of the Almighty, that same evil has come upon us to take our young, to destroy our Sisters, to plague us while the demons laugh and carry on."
I paused and cleared my throat before lifting the volume of my voice higher. It echoed against the ceiling and walls with the spirit of my message.
"It would please my weary heart if, rather than offering an empty message and unanswered prayer, you will allow me to make a suggestion."
That got their attention. Not so much the women, but the men. They were desperate for any idea that would help them keep their families safe and make it possible to provide for the needs of their wives and children.
A smile tipped my lips as I stepped out from behind the pulpit and rounded the dark wood to lean against the front. Their silence was a heavy blanket stuffed full with anticipation. I let that silence punctuate my next statement.
Spoken clearly, my voice low and unhurried, I lifted my gaze to the congregation and said, "We need to take our town back."
The men made sounds of approval, their shoulders rolling back as their chests puffed out proudly. I saw the hope that lit their eyes and the glory they felt to hear a solution that, until now, had been denied to them.
"I want to introduce you all to the new people we've brought into the parish." Motioning with my hands, I directed the congregation's attention to my family members lining the side walls.
On cue they stepped closer, allowing the people of the town to see them fully, to witness the determination shining in their eyes.
"Like you, these people have suffered. They've seen their daughters dragged into sin, their sons lost to crime, their families destroyed by the demons that plague us all. And they're done with sitting idly by waiting for the salvation that Christ has promised us."
More murmurs erupted, the women now raising their eyes to look upon the others that were mirror images of them.
"The Bible said it clearly folks, the book told us what to expect at the end of times. It was said that the last days would be difficult times. That people would only love themselves and their money. That they would be boastful and proud. They would scoff at God and the children would disobey their parents like our beloved Annabelle."
A woman sniffled from the middle row, a man who had only looked at me with rage behind his eyes now easing his anger while putting an arm around his wife's shoulders. No doubt they were Annabelle's parents.
"It was said that people would reject God for the love of pleasure. That they would be puffed up and act like they were religious, but in truth they would reject the power that would make them godly."
A bark of humorless laughter flew from my lips. "Well, you know what I think about that? I think it's time we accept that power. I think it's time that we remember that we are God's people. And I think it's time we gather together to eradicate the sinners of this world, and we take back everything that has been stolen from us."
Pushing off from the pulpit, I walked to stand behind the altar.
My voice swelled with strength, the volume increasing until I was practically shouting. "I say that while taking the blood and body of Christ inside our bodies, that we remember who dwells inside us all and we use that strength to assemble God's army. I say we seek out the filthy demons that plague this world, and that we drag them back here to answer for their crimes! Our God is not a pushover. He’s not a being that sits by and lets evil infect his world. He needs an army of those who believe in him to fight all the demons sent by Satan!”
Calming down, I breathed heavily, fighting the smile that pulled at my lips. My voice was far darker when I spoke my final lines. “If blood needs to be spilled, so be it. Because we, like the God that created us, the God that created us in HIS image, won’t let our lives fall into the hands of the wicked!”
The men pushed to their feet, the women eventually standing beside them. They hollered and they whistled, they yelled and bellowed about how it was time. And as easy as it had been to create chaos in a rural, Appalachian town, I'd just convinced their people that violence was the only answer.
"This is just the beginning, folks. And by the end, the demons will have been run completely out of our town."
More shouts of approval, their hands coming together in applause of an answer they didn't know they were seeking.
A smile stretched my lips to see the fruits of my labors finally coming to fruition.
"I'll close the homily. We'll take Eucharist inside our bodies, and tomorrow we will assemble again to plan our holy war."
More applause boomed as I blessed the offering. And as they lined up to accept the body and blood of Christ, I looked into their gazes to see the insanity settling in.
Through their hands and numbers I would begin the chaos and slaughter.
Within an hour's time, those people returned to their homes, newfound pride the strength in their shoulders. The family left the parish to return to the compound save for one.
I stood by the pulpit and stared down at a woman who remained standing in the middle of the nave patiently awaiting my instructions.
Now that we were alone, I forced my voice into a soothing tone to talk to her.
"Have you missed me, my love?"
Eve's gaze traveled up to lock with mine, tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks. "Yes. I’ve missed you…and your sermons."
"I've missed you, too. I have one more matter to attend to before I can relieve you of the sin I know has built up inside you. I want you to run along to my room and wait for me on the bed."
Without question, she turned and disappeared down the long hallway that led to the rectory door.
Taking my time, I looked over the parish that would be the stage for my slaughter. I took in every pew, every corner, every relic and religious item. Satisfaction was the ember that sparked the flames of my scorching fire.
It would take time to acclimate the townspeople to violence, but it was fortunate that all I had was time.
Turning, I raised my gaze to the crucifix that hung over the stained glass windows and I raised my arms to my sides like the victor I was.
Laughter boomed from my chest and power flowed through me to know I'd succeeded. And with my eyes trained to the cross that in truth, had no meaning, I lifted my voice one final time.
Humor was the edge to my tone. My mirth a vibration through every word I spoke.
With a smile tilting my lips, I raised my arms even higher.
"Fuck off, God. This is my church now."
THE END
BOOK TWO, FEAR THE WICKED, WILL RELEASE SOON. KEEP READING FOR A SNEAK PREVIEW.