Chapter
1 – Gunslinging Saint
In an illegal abortion clinic
hidden deep beneath Meridian, I bring God’s justice. I manifest my ebony pistol
and white revolver and begin firing. My pistol targets the workers, cultists,
and women who have already aborted the infants, while my revolver knocks those
deserving of mercy out with its bullets. One room holds the mangled remains of
a recently aborted child, and I can feel its cries scream through my mind as if
calling for justice, so I answer. Who am I to deny the plea of the truly
innocent?
By the end, I call my contacts in
law enforcement to have those still living taken to jail and see them on my way
out of the underground. They thank me for my work and my constant efforts to
root out evil from Meridian, and I simply tell them that they’re welcome and
nothing more as I walk away and roam the streets. Ever since my mentor, Timeo
Severe, redeemed his hero association, the Dominion of Mercy and Justice, with
John Eli in their war against Nexum and became the first international hero
association, he’s been away and given his apprentices, like me, the power and
authority to be independent. I used to work with my fellow apprentices, Polina
Yelizaveta and Raziel Emundato, but they’re already using their
responsibilities and resources to aid law enforcement. I, on the other hand,
use my privilege differently.
I see true heroes as people who not
only defend the innocent and punish the guilty but also fix laws where they are
broken or lacking. True heroes stick their necks out more for the people they
serve and don’t let the complexities of human law interfere with true justice.
My dad was one of the few politicians who never took bribes and did his best to
pass laws to help the people he served, and he was killed in an “accident”
involving an AI-driven car. My mom tried to seek justice for him, and
presumably was killed too. I buried the finger and toe her killers sent me, and
I still keep the necklace she wore that they returned to me, as a reminder of
better times.
As I pass by people in the streets,
my power judges them, and because it’s recently evolved, I can see the reason
behind each judgment. One dad deserves to die for leading his children to Hell
with him. A woman deserves to live, despite selling her friend into
prostitution, because she’s done penance and is a nun now. Another man deserves
death due to his petty theft, and another deserves to die for destroying his
life and the lives of others through willful ignorance and laziness. Yet
another man deserves to live despite wasting twenty years of his life drinking
and trying to kill himself because he’s had the divine inspiration to change
because of a dream, and there’s a man I see who deserves to live despite being
the reason better people than him are dead. I have to keep my mind off them, or
else I’ll go crazy shooting everyone, including myself.
I have to remember the lessons
Timeo taught me. He’s the reason why I went from being the common criminal
known as The Guillotine to the sidekick of Timeo’s dark hero identity,
L’Obscurité. After being touched by his powers of dark justice, overcoming the
trials they put me through, and joining up with him, I’ve become a changed man,
and yet, I’m still the same at my core. All I do is shoot people who I know
deserve it, bringing justice and death to the guilty. My mission is divine and
one that I mostly walk alone, as I try to find my way with the added
responsibility and power I’ve been given.
Now, I find myself having wandered
to the edge of Meridian, and looking back at the city, I see how vast it is
from a distance. I can appreciate all its architecture, from different
generations to modern ones. However, I’m not here for sightseeing or to reflect
further on myself and my present situation. The outskirts of Meridian hold my
next targets, who are conducting their illegal dealings in what they think is
relative safety under the noses of the city’s protectors. There are various
factories and warehouses here owned by independent companies, and as the city
focuses on keeping its relatively new crime-free status, the outskirts of it
are a place where the odd spike in profit and strange dealings go unnoticed,
but not by me, who investigates every weird occurrence that catches my
attention. I’ve come just in time, as a few trucks are unloading their cargo
into one of the big warehouses that’s connected to a metal factory.
Manifesting my pistol and revolver,
I start shooting. Some don’t know the crimes they are helping with, and are
spared, and then, some do know, but continue to help due to not being able to
find another job. These people who do know I kill because they prefer to help
themselves and their own rather than consider how their actions hurt others. I
don’t feel pity for the desperate, who don’t deserve it, and knowingly help
criminals traffic weapons, drugs that create artificial superhumans,
pornographic material, and robotic weapons and hacking tools. Yet, I still
recall Timeo’s wisdom to constantly pray for my enemies, and doing so changes
the judgment in my head in an instant for some, telling me to spare people,
rather than execute them, for no better reason than the potential for them to
change in the near future.
I’m reluctant to follow these
judgments, but who am I to deny the commands of God? I have to depend on them,
so I spare those whom I am told. What I’m concerned about is the criminals
going back to their ways after being spared and finding them in another
encounter, either doing the same thing they were doing before or worse. There
are some familiar faces here today; some get another second chance, while
others don’t. As for the reason why, I don’t know, but I must trust my senses.
The criminals send out their
superhumans and armed guards against me, making this encounter more than a
simple slaughter, and forcing me to pay more attention. I dance between bullets
and superpowers, while continuing my barrage of fire and judgment, making sure
to hit every target, so that no one escapes, even if it means taking a hit or
two, another benefit of my powers. I’m not nearly as invincible as Timeo’s
friend, John Elio, but I can take a bullet or two without being slowed down or
hurt very much, especially with the body armor I always wear. These rookies
don’t stand a chance against me, despite my being outnumbered one-to-ten. While
fighting them, I shoot the many shelves, large machinery, and boxes of volatile
goods to give me a better edge to have things fall on my targets, make them
fall from their elevated positions, or take out large groups of them.
Getting into the offices, I am
pushed back by a squad of robotic soldiers for a second before pushing back
against them and executing the heads of this operation, each of whom begs for
their lives. They receive no mercy. None of them deserves it. None of them
honestly repents or cares about the lives they’ve ruined by their actions, so neither
God nor I will care about sending them to Hell, their just judgment. With
everyone dead, I search the room and bodies for files, devices, and phones to glean
information on future targets.
Before I call my contacts in law
enforcement to clean up this mess, I hear sounds of fighting until I see Idelle
Elio burst into the room with blood on her hands, feet, and snakes. The older
sister of John Elio, Idelle, differs from her younger brother in personality
and appearance. She wears golden armor with a visible layer of crimson bodysuit
underneath, a white snake on her back that pulls her toward virtue, a cursed
black snake on her back that tempts her to sin, grey hair, and white and black
eyes. The look in her eyes suggests she was going to kill me if she didn’t
recognize me, but since she knows me, she calms down and drops her guard.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,”
I say, while making my guns disappear into thin air.
“Me neither. Looks like we were
following the same leads and took care of some of the targets you missed,”
Idelle says as she looks around the room.
“My thanks,” I say with a little
bow. “Did John send you here? I’m surprised you’re not with him in other
countries or other states in the Columbian Union.”
“He wanted me to work with you specifically.
I’m surprised you’re not with Timeo’s other apprentices.”
“Eh. They’re too soft on crime for me
and focus more on charity and building our image as clean, noble protectors,
not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“Given our shared mindset and how you’re
doing everything solo, I see why John wanted me to work with you. It looks like
you need it because of the criminals you missed and how injured you are.”
Looking at myself, I see that my
body armor is in tatters because of the bullets and hits from superhuman
strength it took, and my clothes are ripped up due to the superpowers that burned
them.
“Heh. Yeah. I could use some help,
if for no other reason than to not ruin my entire wardrobe.”
“Do you need help getting back?”
Idelle says with her arms open as if offering to carry me back.
I respectfully deny it and counteroffer
to take us back on my motorcycle, which she agrees to. After calling my
contacts to clean up our mess, Idelle and I head back to the office of the
Dominion in the city. With the information I collected and the targets I have
on my list, we should have plenty more work to do, and more justice to bring
for the cockroaches who are hiding in the dark.
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