“You are to love God above all else.” She sneers. “Charity is the greatest of all virtues. It unites us to God.” I want to tell her that we are also required to love our neighbour. That's what Father Thomas and I do, grant our fellow men reprieve from their sinful ways. Instead, I keep my shut my mouth instead as she stalks toward me. Her face is as red as a tomato, anger rippling off of her. “You deserve to be punished for what you’re doing to Mr. Michaels. He is trying to repent, cleanse his soul, and you are leading him astray.” She looks almost crazed.
“I can explain-”
She puts a finger on my lips, standing just inches in front of me. “You deserve to be hurt for what you’ve done.”
I say nothing, just tug up my tunic and position myself over her desk before she has to tell me to. She pulls down my underwear, and I close my eyes. I listen as she walks around the desk and opens a drawer, retrieving a wooden ruler. She taps it a few times on my ass then slaps it down hard enough to solicit a howl of agony. Tears sting my eyes, but I try to squeeze them back. She rubs my ass, cooing like one would an infant. The second sting comes out of nowhere, just when my breathing had started to even out. I can't help but cry out again.
“I can’t have you making a noise, Celeste.” She stuffs some sort of cloth into my mouth, forcing me to breathe through my nose which is quickly stuffing up due to my crying. I try to focus my attention on breathing, on anything but this torture. She hits me again, and I know my skin will break if she continues like this. She pushes herself against my ass, rubbing herself on me. Her depraved moans have me nearly gagging, and when she thrusts a finger into me, I growl and buck, trying to push her away from me. This bitch is getting off on me! My reluctance only angers her, though. She pulls away, bringing the ruler down so hard it breaks on my ass. I scream, tears falling down my face. I turn around, and look at her in horror. She lurches for me, gripping me by the throat and pinning me to the table.
“You think you’re too good for this?” I can’t breathe, my airways restricted. The door swings open, and she instantly lets me go, turning. “Father Thomas.” She says sweetly, having switched from a psychotic maniac to someone sweet as sugar in seconds. He glares down at me as I stand, straighten up, and pull the cloth from my mouth.
“Leave.” She growls at me. I do as I’m told, but I know that she’s not done with me. I leave the two of them in the office and make my way to my room. I know she’s going to tell Father Thomas about what she saw. How could I have been so stupid?
* * *
Blood is the only kind of atonement God accepts. Father Thomas made me realize that. When he is called upon to intervene, there is no doubt it is because blood is required. I am the vessel he must use to carry out his divine purpose because I am the only one who understands that the greater good can only be achieved through sacrifice.
Christ himself sacrificed his life. Whoever loses their life for Christ will save theirs.
Father Thomas is not as vile as Priest thinks he is. We only kill those who want to be killed, those who desire freedom, those who beg us to end their suffering.Sin is a sickness, and death is the cure.
He called Father Thomas a monster, he is far from it.He is the image of God on earth.
The man sitting in the front pew, Gareth Yates, has a secret he’s kept from everyone all his life, and he’s about to confess it to me. He’s about to kneel at my feet and beg me to end his life. Beg me to forgive him for his sins. And I will. I will gladly run a knife across his throat the way he wants me to. Father Thomas will be proud.
“When do we start?” his voice trembles as he looks up at me.
“Anytime you’re ready.”
I sit with my legs crossed and my hands resting on my knee. He keeps glancing at my hands, trying to decipher my next move. He needn’t worry. I will not end him now, he has a story to tell first, a confession to make, and I want to hear it. I’m not savage, I respect the process. It’s why I am the only one Father Thomas trusts with this.
“The first time I sawher, she was on her way home from school. I was picking up my daughter that day. Her mother usually does the school run, but she was stuck in a meeting which is why I believed it was destiny that I should meether. The girl was with a group of other girls her age, and at first glance, you’d think they were friends. But as I watched them, it became clear that they weren’t. They made fun of her, teased her about some adolescent nonsense. The girl I was focused on was perfect. She had a full figure and wavy brown hair that she’d tied in a ponytail. She looked to be around seventeen. A senior most likely, in her final year.”
He clasps and unclasps his hands. "I don’t know what made me do it, but I continued coming to the school the rest of that week. I didn’t pick my daughter up, and I stayed far enough away so I wouldn’t be spotted. It was the first time I’d ever had an urge to follow someone, so I pulled away from the curb, and I followed her.”
I listened intently, never interrupting.Let them speak. Listen.
He looks like your typical, middle-aged businessman, in an expensive pinstriped suit complete with a waistcoat and tie. His hair, which is favourably greying at his temples, is brushed back, making him look every bit the distinguished gentleman... He isn’t.
“I started wondering what it would be like…you know,” he swallows, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob a little. He’ll make a pretty mess.
“I couldn’t think those things. I kept telling myself that, not about a girl that young. She was maybe a year or so older than my own daughter, but the desires, they wouldn’t let up, and so I followed her again, every day, watching the route she took. I told myself it was just to get off. I’d use the thoughts of her to my advantage. The way her skirt sat just above her knees giving her that innocent look, something I craved.”
Gareth has been married for twenty years this month. He’s father to two children, a sixteen year old daughter and a twelve year old son. He’s a banker, wealthy. Entitled.
“Go on.” I tell him.
“It became difficult tojustwatch. I knew I had to talk to her. It was wrong, I knew that, but I also couldn’t stop myself.” He looks around the empty church then meets my eyes. “I waited in the park near the school, the one she walks through every day when the girls go their separate ways. I just wanted to talk to her, I tried to reason with her, but she wouldn’t listen…”
“What did you do, Gareth?”
“I punched her. Hard enough to make her pass out, then I dragged her into the bushes. She was so beautiful, so innocent. I - I had to have her.” He’s trembling at the thought, almost out of breath. I stand, walking over to him.
His hands fist on his knees. “I did things...”
He bends at the waist, his breathing uneven. A panic attack. I can tell it’s true, that that was his first time with the girl, but I also know it won’t be his last, and that is why he’s here. The Lord commands that we put to death our sinful nature.
Father Thomas steps out of the shadows. Gareth’s gaze shifts to the priest who is making his way closer. I see the knife glistening in its place on top of an open bible in Father Thomas's hands.