God's Fool: Player of the Divine Heart: Chapter 2 – An Actor in Another’s Play

Chapter 2 – An Actor in Another’s Play

Groggily waking up, I see that I’m in a hospital bed and a patient’s gown with a view of the destruction the cards manifested on the island outside my window.

“Looks like we got here just in time,” I hear a familiar voice say as the door to my room opens.

Timeo Severe and his apprentice, Kane Mundr, are my two visitors. Timeo is pale, with black eyes, and dressed in one of his expensive suits as always, while Kane, with his blue and red eyes, is dressed in a crimson hoodie, like a gunslinger.

“My friends! I assume you’re not here just to see how I’m doing,” I say.

“No,” Timeo says, straight to the point. “We’re here because of what happened to you.”

“What can I say? It’s a blessing from God.”

“It’s a blessing in the same way that the Council of Punishment is. You did a lot of serious damage to your company in a short amount of time,” Kane says.

“Such is the power that has been bestowed upon me.”

“You did more damage to your corporation than just this island, the one office building you were at, and the facility you teleported. Major damage has been done to all Coronamento facilities and offices across the world,” Timeo says.

“I have enough resources and money to fix it.”

“Even so, because of the damage you did, the Dominion has to take control of it. You can no longer be trusted with it.”

I silently grapple with the situation at hand. My life’s work, destroyed by my decision, and now, it’s going to be taken away from me?

“Well…heh…hahaha! I guess that’s just how it’s going to be.”

Timeo waits for a few seconds and asks, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve given my life and soul over to God. I no longer own anything.”

“Speaking about that,” Kane interrupts. “The doctors investigated the cause of your sudden collapse. They say there’s a literal flame in your heart that’s going out.”

“Yes, that flame appeared when a priest forced me to see my flaws and repent.”

“They said there’s nothing they can do to strengthen that flame.”

“That’s because they’re physical doctors, not mystical ones.”

“They’ve even had Catholic priests come here to try to help you, but nothing has worked. Did you know that you’ve been here for at least a week?”

“…no. I thought I was just out for minutes.”

“We’re sorry to bring you this news. My hospitals in Merdian try to help you more, or at least, give you a comfortable place to retire to,” Timeo says.

Drawing some cards, I see that the first card is a skull, a death card. The second card is a renewal card, and the third is a smudged salvation card.

“Do you see these cards? They make manifest God’s will and tell me what I should do next,” I explain.

“Your surviving employees told us. They also quit in the same breath,” Timeo says.

“Haha. I figured they would. Did both of your families come with you? What about your lighter half, Timeo? Is John Elio here?”

“No. They’re back home. They don’t know you’re dying, but we’ll tell them to visit you.”

“It’s fine. I wish I had a family.”

“You did share holiday dinners with us. You were essentially family to us.”

“Still, it doesn’t feel like it was enough.”

“When has enough ever been a thing to you?” Kane asks.

“Ha! Never, now that I think about it. Thank you for visiting and breaking the news to me.”

I pass out, and memories of my life fill my dreams. The first things I remember are the streets I grew up on and the injustice that happened there. These were times when tradition and faith were still on the rise but hadn’t yet taken firm hold in society. As a result, people outside the Catholic faith and those who weren’t loyal to any faith were treated better than those who were. Our neighborhoods weren’t as protected, and we were heavily taxed by a government that said our taxes would go to community, schools, and healthcare programs, when they were simply being used to enrich the people in charge. To counteract this, my parents and neighbors started their own network of like-minded Catholics who protected one another and gave each other opportunities to work, since everyone outside our demographic was preferred in the modern workplace over us.

Some called the group a mob. Others called it a group of men and women, neighbors, people of honor and integrity, who helped those who needed it most and in the most moral way possible. Sure, they had to use violence and kill people at times to defend themselves, but we were attacked, and our neighborhoods were invaded by people who wanted to rob and take advantage of us. When I was a kid, I didn’t want to stereotype people of any belief or appearance; however, when you see people acting stereotypically evil, ugly, and selfish, you can’t help but understand why those stereotypes exist. The show of true neighborly love for people of the same beliefs and hostility toward those of opposing ones laid the foundation for how I viewed the world up until my repentance.

My entire adult life was spent using alegal means to get ahead, make the right powerful friends, and do things in the shadows to advance my company, such as assassinations, kidnappings of important people, and experimenting on prisoners. These are the reasons why I’m in the place I am, and the realization renews my strength to wake up and do something about it. I use one of my cards to change back into my ringmaster outfit, then look at the next cards I have—death, renewal, redemption. Come on, I need to do more with my life—death, renewal, redemption, death, renewal, redemption, death, renewal, redemption.

No matter where I draw my cards from and how much I pray for the cards to be different, they don’t change. If I’m meant to die and not do more with my life, why don’t you kill me now, God? Why can’t I be a hero and join the world-dominating Dominion that my friends, Timeo and John, are masters of? Why can’t I be a vigilante? What about a nomadic hero who has no home and brings justice and wise advice to the places I roam? How about being a living example to others so I can bring them to repentance? Wait, what am I doing?

I’m making the same mistake that I’ve been making for my entire life. If this is what God wants me to do, then I have no choice but to accept it.

“Hahaha! That’s the height of foolishness, isn’t it?” I say to myself.

To tell God what to do and think that we know better than Him? What fool would do that? Certainly me. For the next couple of days, I rest and keep drawing new cards, out of curiosity to see if anything changes. On the third day of my resting time in the hospital, I draw a single card rather than three. It’s a teacher card and a teleportation card.

“Hahaha! Yes, yes, yes! Finally!” I say.

Using the teleportation card without thinking, I find myself in a city, much like the one I grew up in. I walk the streets and find people being troubled by petty criminals. I draw a prison card, and immediately teleport the criminals to prison. A group of children is trying to enjoy the remnants of a broken-down playground, so I use my next card to renew it, making it better, and even teleporting an ice cream truck to it, which they love. Further down the street, a major car accident happens, taking the lives of the drivers and passing pedestrians. A single car of mine cleans up the scene and brings everyone back to life.

Next, I come across a scene where law enforcement is fighting superhuman criminals. Using a card, the powers of the criminals are taken away, and another card puts them in chains. Yes! This is exactly what I wanted!

“How did you do all that, sir?” a young man from behind me says. Nervous, he adds, “I’ve been following you ever since you suddenly appeared and been amazed by all you’ve done.”

“The cards that I draw are the manifestation of God’s will. Watch and learn,” I say.

“Can you teach me more about you?”

“Of course.”

I draw some cards, but they’re all blank.

“Are you okay, sir?”

I can hardly hear anything now as I start wobbling around and losing my strength again. Why now? I’m so close to getting my own sidekick, an apprentice to carry on my legacy. My vision goes blurry, and I struggle to keep my eyes open as I fall and start to lose consciousness. I vaguely see people surrounding me and hear them calling for help. Well…hopefully the kid will be at my side when I wake up. I got a lot done in a short span of time. I don’t see why this wouldn’t be the start of something good…

God's Fool: Player of the Divine Heart: Chapter 1 – A Fool’s Redemption

Chapter 1 – A Fool’s Redemption

The new heads of my Coronamento Corporation meet in a conference room to discuss the company's future.

One of the heads of the organization says, “With Giovanni still recovering in the hospital, I think it’s only right that we stay the course with every project he started.”

Another boss says, “Many of those projects are why he was put in a hospital. A singular priest pushed through our defenses and breathed his supernatural fire, burning Giovanni, and a rogue researcher destroyed his life’s work in our facilities, where he worked. Let's lick our wounds and improve our defenses so that no singular superhuman or group of them can attack us and do major damage as those two did.”

“We have the best defenses out of every corporation in the world, and the best guards, who are hired from the world-dominating hero association, the Dominion of Mercy and Justice. What we need is to broaden our horizons. With the Dominion as our ally, we have theoretically infinite resources to do whatever we want,” yet another boss says.

“Such as?”

“Whatever needs to be done to increase our reach across the world. Giovanni created this corporation to spread the Catholic faith across it and use whatever means necessary to instill it into its very bones.”

“Again, that’s what got him put in the hospital with burns all over his body.”

“It won’t happen again, and it won’t happen to any of us if we use the Dominion’s resources to protect us.”

Finally, I say, “May I chime in? I own the company after all.”

Everyone in the room gets nervous and looks around.

“Giovanni? Where are you?”

“In the room with you.”

“We thought you were still recovering in the hospital. When did you get out?”

“Just now. I can teleport and become invisible, among many things. Observe.”

Playing a card I get from my sleeve, I uncloak myself in front of everyone, who are again surprised.

“Tada!” I say with a bow.

“What happened to you, Giovanni?”

“Yeah. You look totally different from the last time I saw you in the hospital.”

“What’s with that getup? You look like a ringmaster at a circus.”

“Haha, ain’t it cool?” I say as I spin around as if modeling. “I like the manly pink color of it. The red and blue tear marks near my eyes complete the look, don’t you think? As for the blonde parts of my hair, my blackened skin, and the pale hand that I now have, I got these all after having survived the holy fires that engulfed me, burned the sin from my soul, and graciously forced me to open my eyes.”

“Yes, but why look like a clownish ringmaster, Mr. Coronamento?”

“Because I’ve been a fool my entire life, and thought it was fitting. I find it very penitential. Why shouldn’t the clown look like a clown?”

“If…that’s what you want to do, then I guess you should do it?”

“What about these new powers of yours, Giovanni? What can you do with them?”

“I can do any number of things. Observe.” I put my hands together, and a stack of cards appears between them when I separate my hands. “See these cards? Each one has a unique ability. You have already seen me teleport and be invisible, but I can also do this.”

Playing the transformation card, I turn into a raptor. I play another card to turn into a robotic version of myself, another card to turn my appearance back to its original self, another card to make various kinds of fruit fall into the room, and yet another card to make a living shark appear in the room, which I quickly undo with a card that undoes everything I just did.

“It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?” I ask my stunned audience.

“Yeah, just try not to do the shark thing again.”

“What are the limits to your powers?”

“There are none as far as I know. The only limit is to me. I can’t choose which cards to use; trust me, I’ve tried pulling cards out of my sleeves, ears, mouth, and nose, and they’re all the same cards that I originally drew in the situation at hand. When I asked the mystic priest who kept visiting me in the hospital about it, he said that I can only draw the cards God wants me to use, and since God is the origin of all power, I can’t argue with that explanation.”

“What will you do with your new powers?”

Drawing new cards, I say, “These cards reveal to me God’s will for my life. They simply say; destroy, rebuild, and renew. I don’t know about you, but I think this means a story of redemption for a fool like me. My life and life’s work will be renewed and brought to new heights.”

The heads of my organization clap, finally seem comfortable, and say how glad they are for me.

“What’s the next step for you and us?”

“Let’s see what God says through the cards.”

I draw some new cards and play them. The first card that I play takes us all outside, along with others who are working in the office building. The people who weren’t in the meeting are confused and frightened by their sudden teleportation and are given a short summary as to what is happening by the people who know. The next card I play teleports a bunch of shady-looking people in front of us, who are also confused by what is happening. When they see me, they all turn their attention to me, draw their weapons, and activate their powers.

They say things like, “Look who it is. It’s Giovanni Coronamento. I was hoping that you’d die in the hospital, but me getting the opportunity to kill you myself is even better.”

“I want to kill him first!”

“Get in line!”

“I have a bone to pick with him because of what he did to me and mine!”

“Please, please! There’s enough of me to go around,” I say as I play my next card.

The card I play summons about fifty copies of myself out of thin air, each with its own superpower and weapon to fight my enemies. My copies recklessly charge the enemy and fight them. When one takes serious damage, it explodes into fire, acid, or blades, taking the person who killed it with it. Eventually, all my enemies are dead, and with them, the clones disappear. The heads of my company clap, then take a closer look at our attackers and are astonished to see who they are, many of whom are longstanding enemies of my corporation and notorious criminals and villains. Because of this, my employees clap again and are not afraid of my powers.

“Praise be to God!” I say.

My employees cheer and repeat my words over and over again with me, until I hold my hands up and tell them to be quiet.

“This is but a taste of my new powers, thanks to my repentance and giving real control of my life to God. Now, let’s see what God has in store for us next,” I say to an excited crowd.

Using the next card, another crowd of my employees from different places in the world appears around me. They are caught up on what is happening and are excited to see what I do next. The next card strangely teleports us all away to a nearby rooftop, and the card after that seems to do nothing at first, until we look up and see one of my facilities falling from the sky into the office building I was just in.

“What was that, Giovanni?”

“What did you do that for?”

“Like it was explained to you, I have no control over what cards I draw and what they do,” I say.

Hoping to draw a good card, I play the next one that I have and see that the destroyed office and facility completely disappear as if both were never there. That’s something, I guess. Next up, we are all teleported to one of my private resort islands, where my other managers and lead researchers are taking a break. These people are caught up as well, and all seems well and good. I only have two more cards from the many that I’ve drawn, and I hope and pray that these do something good. Uh, oh. I draw a card with a bleeding face on it. The card melts into blood as many people around me start bleeding out of every part of their bodies, dying a horrible death. I frantically play the next card, and somehow things get worse.

Pillars of fire spew out from the ground all over the island, and in the distance, I see more pillars of fire coming out. I know that they’re from the other islands I own. Everyone is fleeing for their lives and getting caught up in the chaos. In the midst of it all, I feel a tightness in my chest as my body suddenly goes cold. Why? I thought I repented in the way that I was supposed to. These cards are supposed to make God’s will manifest, so why is everything going so wrong? Did I sin without knowing? I clasp my chest as I fall to the floor and consider what I could’ve been doing wrong and how this all could be right and come up empty. It doesn’t make any sense to me, but then again, I’ve always been a fool…always a foolish fool…

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There's no more to Fr. Luther's life than him being a cold-hearted assassin who takes every contract he is given, and yet, his only friend in life uses his final breath to get him to change. It's then that God gives him a new contract, to make Giovanni Coronamento, the head of the powerful Coronamento Corporation, repent, and with the help of his guardian angel, Fr. Luther will fulfill this contract to save his soul, and do something good for once in his life.

Least in Heaven: Chapter 3 – Absolution Through Action

Chapter 3 – Absolution Through Action

As I near the end of the tunnel, I hear Giovanni talk over the speakers, saying, “Alright. You got me. There’s nothing and no one else I can use to stop you. How about we talk this out?”

“We have been talking,” I say.

“We’ll talk face to face, and I’ll honestly hear you out. I see that I can’t beat you, and since you’re here for my repentance and not to kill me, it’s not like I’ll lose anything if you win. In fact, I have more to gain, correct?”

“Yes. Fine. We’ll talk.”

“Good. I’m on the top floor of the building ahead of you in my office. Now, don’t mind or kill the guards ahead of you. The barriers and doors will be opened for you.”

The exit of the tunnel leads into another research hall with multiple visible levels. There are multiple guards, researchers, and workers all around me who either try to ignore me, keep their distance, or keep a close eye on me with their weapons down. I go to the elevator, take it to the top floor, follow the signs, and enter Giovanni’s office. His office is decorated with many Catholic paintings, crosses, and statues, and has a few couches, a desk with a coffee and tea maker, chairs, a TV, and a desk in the center with a computer, which he is sitting at. He still has the same confident, smiling face that he had on before, so it’s obvious that he thinks he’s still in the right.

“Please take a seat, father,” he says.

“I’m fine with standing,” I say.

“Okay. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Are you truly willing to repent?”

“If you convince me.”

“Hasn’t my victory against your defenses convinced you enough?”

“I’ll admit that you’re the only one to get this far. Most assassins are killed by the first round of defenses; few manage to survive the traps in the tunnels, and no one has survived against the three brothers, whom you faced. On the other hand, it’s the fact that you killed them and many other Catholics, who are more devout and faithful than I am, that goes against your claim that you’re on a mission from God. You have an uphill battle to fight, so present your case.”

I consider my words for a second before speaking. I’ve already told him his sins, and if hearing won’t convince him, then there’s something else that makes him think he’s in the right. I look over to my guardian angel, he whispers advice in my ear, and with no better idea, I do as he says.

“What do you have against those who think and believe differently from you?” I ask.

“They’re a threat to the society they live in and their souls. Helping or getting rid of them helps themselves, so they don’t harm others, and themselves. I am my brother’s keeper, after all.”

“You are, but you are not his master. I’m sure you’re glad that the Catholic hero association, the Dominion, has control over the world, so that you can further control events and people happening all over the world, but the responsibility is not yours. It is those of your coworkers, who are better men than you are.”

“I helped build up their hero association until it got larger than my own. Why wouldn’t I have a say in what it can and can’t do?”

“It’s not yours. You were merely an investor, a stepping stone for those more deserving of great power.”

“You’re not doing much good at all in convincing me to repent. What does this have to do with anything?”

“This has to do with why you refuse to repent. You’re so concerned with creating a better, more Catholic world that you don’t see the sin that stains your hands and soul. You talk to others who see you as a living saint and repeat back to you your justifications for your actions, so that you feel that you’re correct and have your ideology checked by others when you’re simply living in an echo chamber.”

“I’ve talked to other people with differing views from mine and admit to being wrong.”

“You only admit to being wrong when you’re comfortable with it, just like most people. In reality, you remain steadfast in your thinking and disregard legitimate criticism coming from trusted sources.”

“Sources such as yourself, an assassin who lived only for himself with no allegiances to anyone?”

“My words are true, despite my background. If I repeated your ideology back to you, would it suddenly be false and scrutinized? No. You’d think I was wise and had seen the light of truth. Admit it. Get out of the realm of your comfortable excuses to face the uncomfortable truth. You’re in the wrong here.”

“You-”

“Think and pray on before responding to me.”

I give Giovanni some time to answer. After about a minute, he says, “I see where you’re coming from, and where you get your opinion of me. Still, I am unmoved in my belief that I am justified. Maybe if you give me more time and show me where I’ve faltered, then I’ll truly change my mind. Thank you for the hard and expensive lesson, father.”

I look up to my guardian angel, who shakes his head. He says, “He’s not truly repentant, even though he feels like it.”

So, what do I have to do next?

“What Fr. Francesco did with his dying breath, and like him, it’ll cost you your life.”

Really? That?

“You didn’t think you were walking out of this, alive, were you?”

Guess I shouldn’t have expected it. Alright….alright, I’ll do it. I use my speed to run over to Giovanni and feel a great heat well up in my chest, and then immediately burst flames from my mouth like a volcano. Just like me from before, his face catches on fire, and he screams out in pain. Meanwhile, I feel the life fade from my body as I fall face-first on the floor and lose consciousness. When I open my eyes next, I see that I’m hovering above the room, watching Giovanni writhe in pain as his guards try to help him in vain, while my lifeless body is taken away. The contract is fulfilled. Now what?

“Now, you join me in Heaven,” a familiar voice says.

Turning around, I see Fr. Francesco in a white and gold priest’s outfit and an all-consuming light that’s pulling my soul toward.

“Fr. Francesco!” I say as I float toward him and we embrace. “I did it, my friend.”

“Ha! Besides you going to Heaven, the second greatest thing is hearing you call me your friend. I knew you’d do it.”

“Do what? Sacrifice myself or save Giovanni because I managed to only do one of those things.”

“You did both,” my guardian angel says as he floats toward the light with me. “Giovanni is in the process of repenting. You’ve done well, Fr. Luther.”

“I did what I was asked. Nothing more. All of my life, I’ve done what I wanted, and only at the end did I do what I was supposed to. I guess I’ll be spending my days at the very edges of Heaven.”

“But you’ll be with God, nevertheless,” Fr. Francesco says.

“What about you, Fr. Francesco? I’d be surprised if you’re not sitting directly next to God near Jesus.”

“You’re not far off from the truth.”

As the all-consuming light takes me into Heaven, I feel peace and happiness for what feels like the first time, me, a cold, heartless assassin who not a few days ago deserved Hell more than anything.

 

The End

Least in Heaven: Chapter 2 – Unfeeling Saint

Chapter 2 – Unfeeling Saint

These dark tunnels that I’m traveling down are confusing, barely lit, and filled with traps, such as mines, motion-activated turrets, and hidden guards. Thankfully, my enhanced senses allow me to react to them, my glasses have a hidden function that allows me to see in the dark, and my guardian angel has my back in getting rid of some of the traps and pointing me in the right direction of this maze. I twist my body to avoid a series of lasers in a split second that activate near me, fire a series of pistol bullets to blow up the next series of turrets, while deflecting their shots with my sword, and cutting apart the robots and guards that jump out from my blind spots. At one point, I think my guardian angel is guiding me into a wall, that is, until he cuts the fake wall in two, revealing it was a gate.

Ahead, I see a checkpoint station with dozens of armed guards and superhumans. Slowing down, I combine my sword with my pistol, so that I activate the hidden rifle function within the sword. A scope and muzzle come out of the sword. I look through the scope and aim at the guards. Waiting for the right opportunity, I take my first shot when three of the guards are lined up so I can kill them with one shot. They know they’re under attack, so they turn on the lights, see me, and start attacking. Despite this, I remain calm and continue firing, taking out one after the other with headshot after headshot, sometimes taking out two or three with one shot.

Most of the guards are dead, and the remaining are taking cover. I switch my scope to allow me to see nearby electrical and heat signatures through objects, and switch the mode of my sword rifle so it charges up each shot to allow me to shoot through said objects. After a few of them fall, they get out of cover and must be realizing that I’m not making lucky shots. They try charging me or running away and end up dying all the same. With everyone and everything at the checkpoint dead, I continue on my way.

Over the speakers in the tunnel, I hear Giovanni say, “You’re something else, Fr. Luther. It’s no wonder why my corporation hired you so many times. We can still make a deal, you know. You may have killed many of my men and done a lot of damage to my property, but I can set aside my grievances for our mutual benefit. I am a good Catholic man, after all.”

My guardian angel shakes his head, and I say, “Nothing has changed. I’m still coming after you.”

“That’s a shame. Guess I’ll have to send my best after you. Just remember that my offer will still stand if you manage to live.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s made a two-way speaker and is giving me offers,” I say to my guardian angel.

“He’s a businessman through and through, and knows you’re a threat to him.”

“Is he any closer to repenting?”

“Hardly, but you’ve made a little progress.”

“And if he doesn’t repent? Will I still obtain my salvation?”

“If you don’t give up hope, you’ll ensure the salvation of both your souls.”

“Right.”

Continuing on my way, I begin to encounter fewer obstacles in my way, which isn’t a good sign. It could only mean there’s something worse ahead, so I slow down, keeping an eye out for the next trap. Nothing happens for a little while, which is concerning and only makes me take more precautions as I move forward. The slight crack in the walls gets my attention, and before I can turn my attention to it, my guardian angel tackles me out of the way before a mass of gray mud can consume me. Moonlight and fresh air come from the hole where the mud came from, along with a man in full dark blue knightly SWAT gear and another man with yellow and red eyes, black and white hair, and an expensive-looking suit and outfit with the pins of a police officer on them. The gray mud forms a man with black hair and blue eyes, who turns one arm into multiple swords and the other into a hammer.

These must be some kind of elite guards for Giovanni, given that they’re attacking me by themselves and may even be brothers, since the mud man’s face is similar to that of the man in the expensive suit. Now I have to fight with a little more effort than I did before. Firstly, I separate my pistol from my sword so I can use the two independently and wait for them to make the first move.

“It’ll be better for you to take Giovanni’s offer, father,” the officer in the SWAT gear says.

“He’s actually a good man,” the man in the expensive suit adds.

“He gave me a second chance at life to make me into a better man,” the mud man comments.

“I don’t care who you think he is. The only thing that matters is who he actually is, and that he must repent,” I say before quickly firing a shot, splitting the mud man in two.

The officer takes out his submachine gun and starts firing it at me, which my guardian angel protects me from as I fire at the man in the suit who is also firing at me, running, and trying to dodge my bullets in this place that has no cover. Our bullets collide, but I manage to deflect some of his back at him, injuring him. When the officer runs out of ammo, my guardian angel goes after the mud man, piercing him and making him explode into pieces that slowly start to reform themselves. Focusing on the officer who charges at me, he reloads his submachine gun and dual-wields it with a heavy revolver. He fires them both at me, and the force of the revolver shots knocks off my guard, allowing a few of the submachine bullets to hit me.

Nevertheless, I keep dodging as best I can and trying to knock his revolver shots back at him. The second attempt doesn’t go as well, but I manage to hit back the third shot from his revolver, and it felt as if I was using a baseball bat to hit a bowling ball. The shot that I knocked back at the officer goes through his chest, instantly killing him and dropping him.

“Renzo!” the man in the suit says.

Fully healed, the man in the suit draws a pair of rapid-firing pistols with drum magazines and recklessly opens fire on me. I spin my blade to deflect them all until he runs out of ammo. That’s when I fire three shots at the man, one hitting his chest and two in the head, killing him before he can reload or dodge out of the way.

“Salvatore! Renzo!” the mud man says as he starts to cry. “I’m sorry for being the useless brother I always was…”

My guardian angel finishes the mud man and stops me from walking off.

With his hand on my shoulder, he says, “Take a moment to pray for these brothers.”

“Why?” I ask.

“They are good, Catholic men who are leaving loving and faithful families behind to join the Lord in Heaven.”

“I’m sure many others were much the same as them, and you didn’t say to pray for them. They’re also going straight to Heaven as you said, so there’s no need to pray.”

“These are better men than you’ll ever be. Please, pray for them, or at least their families.”

I sigh, take a few moments to pray for their families, and move on.

“There’s a good reason why you’re the man God chose to force Giovanni Coronamento to repent. Only a cold-hearted assassin such as yourself could kill good men, and not let it bother you.”

“It’s a blessing and a curse, right? I know that’s what you want me to think, and yet, I can’t. I still don’t feel sorry for any of the killings I’ve done, and I’m only doing this because I feel moved to by Fr. Francesco, and it seems like the right thing to do. Will my soul truly be saved, even though I don’t feel sorry in the slightest?”

“True repentance doesn’t require feeling. You only need to mean you’re truly sorry with all your heart and soul, and prove it to God.”

“I see. Well, I hope this all proves it if, for no other reason than to give God and Fr. Francesco what they want.”

Least in Heaven: Chapter 1 – A Judas Priest

Cover by @An_dres_art

Chapter 1 – A Judas Priest

My life was never something I enjoyed. It was never something I could say I was proud of, and yet I never tried to change it. As a mercenary masquerading as a priest, I only took up the priesthood for the cover it provided. During an age of resurging traditionalism, no one batted an eye at another man who wanted to be a priest, especially when I appeared to have all the signs of someone who truly wanted to serve God. People would come to me at my secluded monastery, give me my job, and I’d complete it. Then I’d resupply and rest back at the monastery. In my line of work, I killed all kinds of men: normal, superhuman, those with power, those with little to none, those who were religious, those who pretended not to be, those who were traditionalist, and those who were liberal, not caring who I killed, only caring that I got paid.

The only man who did care about what I did was Fr. Francesco. Everyone else in the monastery either kept to themselves, was too afraid to scold me, or was in the same business as me; however, Fr. Francesco was the most honest priest I knew. He constantly hounded me about my sins in such detail that it seemed like he was there. Fr. Francesco said he heard it from his guardian angel, who was told about it by my guardian angel. I didn’t care much for his judgments. What I cared about was arguing over the moral justifications as if they actually mattered, only to shrug them off in the end.

He got slicker about trying to convert me during the days I tried to relax. He’d read me Scripture verses, fictional stories, his life stories, and stories about the saints that would in some way relate to my sins or lead up to a lesson about repentance and the cost of murder. Despite him constantly being after me, some part of me enjoyed his company and efforts. Maybe it’s because he’s the only person who made an effort to care about me and never gave up. One day, a group of people who wanted revenge against me came to shoot up the monastery.

When it happened, Fr. Francesco saw them first and shielded me from their bullets. After taking care of them, everyone in the monastery was dead except for me, and Fr. Francesco, who was somehow clinging to life. I tried my best to heal him, but he stopped me because he knew that this was his end.

With his final breath, Fr. Francesco said, “Repent. Repent, Fr. Luther. There’s goodness in you that can yet be saved.”

As he breathed his last, he spewed fire on my face. I writhed and screamed in pain as the fires felt as if they burned me down to the soul.

“Do not let this opportunity go to waste, Luther. What’s there left to live for? Your next paycheck? The next murder? Why not give yourself to the role you pretend to be in for something greater?” I heard a voice say.

I decided to do as Fr. Francesco said, and soon after, the fires subsided. Looking around, I saw a winged dark figure with a white bird helmet, a white halo, and three white pincers for fingers appear over me.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Your guardian angel, the one who was feeding information to Fr. Francesco’s guardian angel, to him so he could help you repent,” he said.

“Ah. So, you’re the snitch?”

“There’s no time to joke. Your life will soon come to an end, and you will either spend it making up for what you’ve done or being alone here until you grow too old enough to take care of yourself.”

Feeling a debt to Fr. Francesco and not really caring about living a long life, I accept the request to make up for what I’ve done, and ask, “What do I need to do?”

“Something you’re familiar with. Giovanni Coronamento continues his sinful works in the shadow of the Dominion’s new world order. Bring him to repentance and kill everyone else who stands in your way.”

“That’s it?”

“That is all.”

“Why something so simple?”

“An assassin is who God made you to be, and an assassin is all you are.”

“I can’t argue with that. Alright. I’ll take on that contract for the salvation of my soul.”

It’s been a few days since I chose to change. I’ve been on Giovanni Coronamento’s trail so I could pick the right opportunity to get to him, and it hasn’t been easy. He’s a celebrity to the public, and always has guards and others surrounding him as if he’s expecting someone to take his life, even in this new world he’s helped to create, where he’s part of the leadership ruling the world. He’s never too hard to pick out from the crowd, given his slicked back black hair, confident green eyes, and he usually wears purple and gold dress outfits. In between my recon, my guardian angel pushes me to pray, so I do so for advice and to regain some patience.

“It’s good that you’re taking my advice and growing closer to God,” my guardian angel says.

“I don’t feel many of the benefits,” I admit.

“You don’t need to feel them to get anything out of it. I know a man like you hardly feels anything at all, and is only satisfied by cold, hard results.”

“You must hate the fact that you’ve had to watch over me my entire life. How many times have you asked God to give the responsibility to another angel?”

“None, and I’ve never wanted to leave you, not for a second.”

“Is that so?”

“You were entrusted to me before you were born, and I’ve tried to help you ever since, starting when you were born to those cold-hearted, white-collared criminals and bankers who were your family, to the days when you were an assassin with allegiance to no one. I’m sorry that you’ve never felt the true warmth of love in your life, but you will after this is over.”

“I…I appreciate it.”

“Oh? Does the heart of stone feel?”

“It has ever since it was shown true kindness by Fr. Francesco. Part of me regrets that I never showed it to him back.”

“He never wanted it back. He only wanted to share the love that God gave him and the salvation of your soul.”

“Then I guess this’ll not only be my gift to God, but also my gift to him to show that his efforts weren’t in vain.”

Picking myself up from my prayers, I continue to follow Giovanni to see that he’s now in one of the hero association offices that his corporation owns.

My guardian angel says, “This waiting for an opportunity to go after your targets is irritating me just as much as you. Haven’t you assaulted buildings like this before?”

“I have, but I had help back then. I thought you would’ve known that,” I say.

“I did, and that’s the point I’m getting at.”

“Are you going to help me get in there to get to Giovanni?”

“Yes. I can sneakily pick people off for you and empower your sword and gun. Turn around, and let’s give it a try.”

I do as my guardian angel says, and watch as he goes out from behind my back to cut apart walls and piles of trash left in the building we’re in. Since it’s under construction and nighttime, no one is here to bother us, and there are plenty of things to use as target practice. The speed at which he slices and stabs happens within the blink of an eye. As for empowering my sword and pistol, both of them are made with killing superhumans, armed men, and robots in mind, but with my guardian angel’s help, they can cut through concrete like butter and blast apart metal and piles of bricks as if they were paper. These’ll be perfect.

“Are you ready?” my guardian angel asks.

“Yes. I am. Let’s get this over with,” I say.

Walking from the construction site to the Coronamento hero association office, I enter the front entrance waiting room and am immediately shot in the side of the head. Despite the shot, I don’t move a single muscle as if nothing had hit me. Looking over to who shot me, I see that’s none other than Giovanni himself.

He backs off to his gathering of superhuman, robotic, and cybernetic security forces and says, “Guess you’re not a normal assassin, Fr. Luther.”

“I guess you should’ve had people watching out for assassins like me,” I say.

“Or the worst people like the media who want to invade my privacy and falsely accuse me of crimes.”

“Heh, I can’t argue with that first part.”

“Who hired you? Maybe we can come to a deal, and you can work with me instead. We’re men of the same faith, aren’t we?”

“I come on a mission from God to bring you to repentance for your sins.”

“Huh. It’s no wonder, given your appearance and profession, then, but you’re mistaken. I have no sins on my soul, and I’ve paid for all my crimes with my time in prison.”

“You’ve done nothing more than pretend to be virtuous and repentant. How about you do us both a favor? I’ll leave if you truly promise to repent of your ways and be the man your employees and the public think you are.”

Giovanni looks around him and says, “I promise to go to confession the next time I sin, as I always do, but right now, there’s not even a venial sin on my soul.”

Looking over to my guardian angel, he says, “He makes dishonest confessions. This was never going to be easy for you. God wouldn’t have sent you to convert Giovanni if it were.”

I wait for a second and see that no one else hears or sees my guardian angel.

“Okay. The hard way it is then.”

As I draw my sword and pistol, my guardian angel slices through the group of superhumans and armored heroes that try to dodge pile me. In one swipe, they’re all cut in half and fall lifelessly to the floor. Giovanni retreats as he fires his pistol at me, and his robotic guards come at me. I shoot down many of the robots with my enhanced senses before they reach me, charge at those remaining, and cut my way through them. Going after Giovanni, I chase after him and see one of his superhuman guards carry him away. If I were a beginner, I’d think he was being brought to the uppermost floors, but knowing the Coronamento Corporation, he’s probably being taken down to the more secure lower floors.

“Do you have a plan to get down there?” my guardian angel asks.

You can read my thoughts?

“God allows me to. Hurry, let me know what your plan is. The authorities and backup from Giovanni’s friends are on the way.”

Usually, you’d need some legitimate way to access the lower floors since the doors leading to them are reinforced to account for a superhuman attack.

“I see where you’re going with this, and God willing, I’ll be able to open them for you.”

Thank you. Since the building is on high alert, and the elevators are locked down, I take the stairs. I then cut through the locked doors and reach the last floor I can go down, where a group of armed guards is hanging around a set of heavy double doors that look big enough to drive a truck through. They immediately open fire on me, so I dodge between their shots and manage to deflect some of their shots back at them with my sword, along with firing shots of my own. With the way clear, I nod to my guardian angel to try to break down the heavy doors. He holds back both his arms and then lunges them forward, blowing open the door and sending them flying into the underground facility.

“Praise be to God,” I say as I cross myself.

Entering the underground facility, I see the two heavy doors set into a wall across from me, and four floors beneath me, filled with cells holding superhumans being released. At the very bottom, I see Giovanni, who appears surprised to see me, yet the look of confidence and his smile don’t fade from his face. Not wanting to box myself in on this narrow walkway, I throw myself down to the lowest floor and land on one of the security guards, killing them. Breathing in and out, I push my senses to their limits as more of Giovanni’s security descends upon me all at once. Usually, everything feels a bit slower, but with the further enhancements from my guardian angel, time feels as though it’s been brought to a crawl.

Taking advantage of this boost in power, I slice and shoot my way through everyone around me, sliding under their attacks, leaping off each one like platforms to get to others above them, before coming down and finishing off the remainder of them in a whirlwind of bullets and spinning my sword around. By the time I hit the ground, time resumes to its normal pace, and all of Giovanni’s guards are dead. No one else is left alive except for the scientists and staff of the facility, who cower in their rooms. I head over to where I saw Giovanni go and find him in a secure room with glass panels, working on a machine, before turning to me with the same expression he always seems to have. I try breaking through the glass, but my sword and pistol don't make the slightest scratch on the glass.

“You’ve gotten further than most other assassins, Fr. Luther. For that, you have my respect,” Giovanni says as he claps.

“I don’t need your respect. I need your repentance,” I say.

“For what exactly? Assuming you’re closer to God than I am and an actual priest, tell me, what are my sins?”

Looking over to my guardian angel, he tells me Giovanni’s sins as told by his guardian angel, and I relay them to him, saying, “You are guilty of hiring scientists to experiment on unwilling prisoners you were meant to execute for their crimes or show mercy to. Additionally, you hire hitmen to get rid of subversives in society that you deem too dangerous to live, bribe officials to overlook your crimes, and give people favors for instituting unjust laws against people of other beliefs.”

“You criticizing me for hiring hitmen is funny, given your true profession. I know that you’re no real priest. I’ve looked into your background and found that my corporation has hired you to do much of its dirty work, which, I might add, was justified. God and His Church finally have majority control of the world under my ally, the Dominion of Mercy and Justice, and those who seek to undermine it jeopardize it and the salvation of souls.”

“There are other ways to keep it safe, and torturing, killing, and discriminating against others of false beliefs isn’t the way to do it. I may be an assassin first, and priest second, but God has changed that.”

“Really? What changed in that hit that got everyone in your monastery killed except for you? Was that your coming-to-God moment?”

“Yes. A fellow priest who had been constantly bothering me to repent finally got through to me. Now, aided by my guardian angel and tasked by God, I am to bring you to repentance to save my soul.”

“I can’t say the rewards of your contract can be matched, but as I’ve said before, I don’t have a sin on my soul. Keep chasing me if you wish, Fr. Murphy. We’ll see who truly has God on their side.”

In a second, Giovanni’s room rockets away down a tunnel and disappears from my sight.

“How come you didn’t allow me to break through the glass barrier and let Giovanni get away?” I ask my guardian angel.

My guardian angel breaks through the barrier, then says, “That show of strength and skill you had for Giovanni was a watershed moment for him. It should’ve gotten him to repent, but he refused.”

“He should’ve taken it when he had the chance. Now, I have to make more of a mess of his corporation.”

“You had many of the same chances, and didn’t any of them, except for the last one.”

I let my guardian angel’s words sink in as I continue my chase of Giovanni by using my enhanced speed to run down the dark tunnel after him.