Chapter
1 – Fallen Successor of the Apostles
A hypocrite. That’s what I’ve
always been for the sake of power. It’s what I’ve wanted so I could have an
unlimited sense of freedom and security. That’s what all humanity wants, so I
felt justified in doing everything I could to obtain it. Since traditionalism
is on the upswing in modern times, I felt that I should enter the priesthood. I
did so, rose through the ranks by impressing the right people, giving them what
they wanted, and became a bishop later in life. With the rise of the Dominion
of Mercy and Justice and their members gaining political power, I should do the
same, so I ran for mayor of the capital city of the Columbian Union, and after
becoming mayor, I became governor of the capital state.
The power that I had gave me the
best houses in the country, allies in all the right places in several
governments and religions, and the ability to affect lives without directly
interacting with them. If I wanted someone’s life ruined, I could make it happen.
If I wanted to move up the ladder or help an ally do the same, then I knew who
to pay or call for a favor. In the most extreme cases, if someone opposing me
couldn’t be moved or convinced to change, then I had ways of making them
disappear for good. I thought I had everything I ever wanted, but I always
wanted more, and after realizing this fact multiple times, I began to see the
vanity in the way I was living.
I prayed earnestly, probably for
the first time in years, and only felt more regret for the way I lived. What
was the point of having power when it only made me want more, like some crack
addict? What did power give me other than the fear of always looking behind my
back and always being wary of others to keep what I worked so hard to obtain? What’s
the point of having all the money and access to the best doctors in the world
if I’ll eventually die one day and there’s a singular destination for my soul?
I have spent all these years working for nothing, dust that I hold onto as it
slips through my hands, so before I can be fully disappointed, I’m throwing it
all away in one stroke.
Today, I’ve been told there’s
another assassin coming to claim my life. I’ve told my associates that it’s
being handled, and by that, I mean that I’m accepting my death. I kneel in my
private adoration chapel and pray for hours, confessing and repenting of my
sins to God, until I hear the click of the door behind me and the shot of a
silenced gun. Everything goes black, and my body feels weightless, and yet, I
still feel conscious, so I continue praying. Then, I start to feel someone
cutting me apart. Figures. It’s a classic tactic of the hitmen and assassins I
know. They kill their targets and spread their body parts around the country so
that they won’t be identified or take years to figure out who the body belonged
to. It makes sense that I deserve this fate.
“Hehehe. If only it were so, Terah,”
I hear a cackling voice say.
Who’s there?
“The messenger who delivers your
prayers to God and delivers His will to do, your one and only guardian angel.”
You don’t look like an angel. You
look more like a reaper with your spiky cloak with horns on it and shadowy face
with a green smile, eyes, and nose.
“Would you expect anything softer
and cuter for a man such as yourself? All guardian angels are particular to
each person they protect, and my appearance reflects the kind of man I have to
deal with.”
I guess you’re right. What message
do you have to deliver at the moment of my death?
“That isn’t the end of your life.
Hehehe. It’s only the beginning.”
Flashes of green lighting and fire
light up the darkness around me. In it, I see my body become clothed in long
black and grey clothes with light green trimming, like those of a homeless man,
along with a dark green scarf. My body comes back together, making me not feel
weightless anymore, but for some reason, I can’t feel my arms.
“You won’t need those with the new
power you’re being given.”
I feel jolts of electricity
coursing through my body, each of which I can shoot out from me, and it feels
like an extension of my will. With the green light, I dispel the darkness
around me and find myself back in my personal adoration chapel. Nothing is
remaining in here or the other rooms in my house. How much time has passed
since I died?
My guardian angel appears in front
of me and says, “What happened to you in your mind took seconds, whereas it
took weeks to put your body together, and it is in this time that God wants you
to return with a bang.”
With these powers of green
lightning? Am I meant to be some kind of superhuman hero for God?
“That’s the idea, friend. I think
you know where to start in the purging of heretics and heathens. They were the
ones who took everything out of your house after you died, even that statue of
me that you had in your room.”
That thing was a gift made to
generally represent you that I didn’t pay much attention to. No offense.
“There’s much offense to that
statement. No one makes statues of guardian angels, so I appreciate the ones
that are made of us. I’m kidding.”
You do seem to be the jokey type,
much to my surprise.
“You take life too seriously. It’s
why you need a joker like me. You act older than me, even though I’m centuries
older than you.”
I look at the spot where my
guardian angel statue was, and look up at the mirror in the wall that’s yet to
be removed. I really do look like a bum, but my eyes are yellow, light green,
and dark green.
“Don’t act as if you care about
what you look like now. You only wore the clothes that got you the most
attention.”
That’s true. The clothes have to
match the man, so this is the best that I can expect as a dead man walking.
Walking outside of my house, I see that the cars in my garage are gone. Am I
expected to walk to where I need to go?
“Nope. That’d be too boring, even
if it were to be an effective penance for you. I have something more exciting
for you. Let me do the work.”
I’m suddenly lifted into the air as
my guardian angel flies up. We fly at high speeds to our destination, a towering
office building where all kinds of familiar faces are gathered today. It’s a high-class
society place with expensive chandeliers and famous musicians singing on stages
for background noise and entertainment. As I float among them like a ghost in
the crowd, I see that they’re selling many luxurious and precious items, some
of which came from my house.
“Don’t these people have enough?
From what I hear from their suffering guardian angels, they have enough to fill
ten houses, and then some.”
That’s the thing with money. When
you have it, you gotta make it work for you. Otherwise, it’s useless. Besides,
these people here know that objects are vanity and are here for the real prize
of making and maintaining their connections to others.
“That stupid paper does more damage
to people’s souls than they realize. I’d love to see it burn.”
You’ll see it soon, but for now,
these people have to burn. Let’s see these new powers of mine in action. I
exert my will as green lightning shoots from my body, and people start to
notice me.
“Terah?” one of them says before a
lightning bolt hits them and sets them ablaze.
Some of the others who get hit die
on the spot, but for some reason, I feel in control over some of them. As the
crowd starts to run, I make them stay and move around.
“End yourself,” I command.
The people I have control over snap
their necks with their own hands. These powers are something else.
“Stay focused and keep the
lightning flowing. They can’t get away,” my guardian angel says.
I do as he says and let the green
lightning strike out from me like the fingers of God, picking out who dies a
particular death and who comes under my control. Even the superhumans and
guards who try to stop me are no match for my powers and are a useful tool for
eliminating the guests and torching everything in the building. When they are
no longer of any use to me, I make them end themselves, each other's lives, or simply
throw themselves out the windows. Flying outside the building, I watch it while
floating in the air with my guardian angel. I’ve been curious about getting
superhuman powers for myself, but having so much political power and leverage
in businesses made it seem like another investment that would give me more
attention than I needed. Looks like I didn’t know what I was missing out on.
“If you had powers, it would’ve
made your death more excruciating,” my guardian angel says. “Besides, you’re
not supposed to enjoy this. You are executing pitiable souls who were like you,
and you knew.”
You’re right, my angel. Excuse my
over-indulgence in this power. You know how it’s my drug. I’m still surprised I
was given it.
“Power itself isn’t evil or
corrupting. It’s people who misuse it and give it a bad name, like those who
use charities to get rich and reputation as a good person. You were meant to be
a bishop, mayor, and governor. No one gets a position of power without God
allowing it. This is why you have your powers. Come on. I want to see the purpose
for your power fulfilled tonight and more burning money.”
Before I go anywhere, I see a large
red and blue explosion in the city. A fireball of the same colors shoots out
from it and lands right in front of me.
No comments:
Post a Comment