Skin Like Rags: Chapter 2 – Bleeding the Flesh, Purging the Sin

Chapter 2 – Bleeding the Flesh, Purging the Sin

Huh? I’m alive? Where am I? I landed in some ghetto. What broke my fall was a bunch of soft rotting mattresses and other trash with maybe a body or two under there since I’m hearing muffled noises from underneath it all. I’ve heard about places likes this and was never keen on finding it out if it was real. In the darkness of the town is this trash heap that people call home. Here you can find the true outcasts of society some are too good for it while others are too evil. Either way, they both suffer the same fate.

People sell custom skins, themselves, and their own flesh to get by here while very few try to work honest jobs like cleaning to get by. Still, the immense suffering that people in the light experience is amplified here and I’m sure that even the most virtuous people here become just as sinful as the others or at least are tested in their faith until their death, which shouldn’t be too far considering the living conditions here. I’m not exactly sure how people here can obtain food and water when the town doesn’t supply it and merchants probably don’t want to do business in a dump like this especially since it can be more dangerous. Speaking about danger, I can feel eyes watching me. It doesn’t help that I can hardly see down here, so I try to find an exit as faster as I can. Before I know it, I’m taken aside by someone in the darkness with a hand over my mouth.

“Quiet, I’m here to help. It’s not safe to be here. Follow me,” the man says in a quiet voice.

Since I have no better choice, I follow him while whispering, “Why are you helping me?”

“You’ve done a great service to us and to yourself by repenting of your past life.”

“You know what I’ve done?”

“Not exactly, but we know the people who were chasing you and they only chase their own. Worry not because you’ve shown us that you’re willing to put the past behind you.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“A place that’s safe from the slaves of the flesh.”

This sounds promising. If they know about the people who were chasing me, who are they? I guess I’ll find my answer soon enough. The two of us crawl through a series of tunnels until we’re finally out of the underground and back on the surface. We’re further from the town than I thought we’d be. On these outskirts, we might as well be underground since we’re far from civilization and any form of law enforcement. The townspeople here have to fend for themselves and it isn’t uncommon for the defenders to become creditors who defend for a price and require praise for their efforts.

Going into the far off settlement I find very few people with any skin on them. In fact, more people are burning skin than wearing it. People pray openly in the streets and things seem more peaceful here despite the clear poverty and burning of skin. I can’t wait to see what’s in store for me here. Perhaps I will be as happy as everyone else here.

“We’re here,” my escort says as we approach a church that appears that it was constructed with scraps of different buildings.

Nevertheless, the exterior and interior are like the cathedrals that I’ve heard about in stories with abstract art of the afterlife, hell, and fearsome angels. People worship here in silence while some bleed and bruise themselves in penance for the sins of the world.

“Welcome here where you can live freely,” a priest says.

This priest doesn’t have any skin on him like the rest. He doesn’t even seem to have any kind of flesh in certain parts of his body as he appears to be completely skeletal in some places.

“Hello, my name is Siegfried. I’m so glad that you brought me here. After what happened, I thought I wouldn’t have long to live.”

“We should be the ones thanking you. You’ve drawn two of our enemies here that we interrogated to get valuable information that we can use against them.”

“You’re welcome, but you don’t want me to draw more here, do you?”

“Not at all since they know you’re a traitor and dead. The most important thing you can do now is to devote yourself to a life of prayer and penance. These are more important than any worldly effort since our true enemy is fought on the spiritual level. Help us and you will be given food, water, shelter, and friends to give you strength as we make reparations for all the evils of the world.”

“Well, life is suffering so I might as well embrace it. You have a deal.”

“I am overjoyed to hear that! So many souls are lost in this world, but you have come home.”

A meager feast of whatever the church can put together is held at the church before they go back to their penances and let me rest for today for tomorrow’s penances. Even here in the night, I can hear screams echo. I guess it makes sense given my location and the fact that I’ve heard screams and sounds of violence back where I used to live. In the morning I am given instructions on different prayers and acts of penance to do throughout the day. They’re nothing too hard to handle. The most challenging of them is the lashing of my back. I used to be whipped and beaten before, but that was actually easier to bear since I had skin. Now it’s more painful to do. On the other hand, at least I’m suffering this for a better reason.

Day in and day out I do the same things until one day I see people faltering in their duties. The priests and other faithful condemn them for their perceived weakness saying things such as, “If you had been more devoted in prayer, then you wouldn’t be failing.”

“Give them pain that they can use to lift themselves up from their failure,” one of them says as they give me a whip.

Since it seems that I’m expected to do this, I whip the failing faithful as asked. These failing faithful appear to be thankful for the pain that I’m giving them, which reminds me of what I used to do except they don’t disguise the pain as pleasure. Time continues on and the weight of my penances gets me sick, and yet, I am still expected to fast and recover without any kind of medicine or something to numb the pain. Eventually, the pain gets to me and I have to stay and rest for the day. The priests and other penitential faithful berate me for resting and some are even allowed to beat me for it so I can make up for the penances that I don’t do.

I try to say, “I’m offering the pain I’m feeling in place of my penance.”

However, they hardly accept the excuse. When I get better, I have to do more prayers and penance to make up for what I’ve missed. To go around this, I’m offered to go out and hurt our enemies, the worshippers of the flesh. This honestly sounds like a good idea since I’ve been wanting to do something different that will have a more visible impact. Don’t get me wrong, prayer and penance have given me a sense of interior peace and self-worth, but I feel that I should be doing more.

I go out with the man who saved me to a location where a convoy of flesh worshippers are transporting a shipment of custom skins, real skin, and skin growth products. To stop this convoy, a few of the devoted throw themselves in front of it and die in the process. Their sacrifice causes the convoy to crash and injure everyone in the process and makes this an easy job. While going through the skins and skincare products I find something that I shouldn’t be surprised to find and that is a herd of skin growers. Skin growers are slaves that are used by worshippers of the flesh as fertile ground to grow their custom skin suits. I remember this because I was one for a short time. It wasn’t a pleasant experience constantly being skinned for cannibals and degenerates who have a fetish for cutting people.

Cheap custom skin suits are made with various kinds of material like leather and animal skins, but the real expensive convincing ones are made from real people. They are fed skincare products that contain ingredients such as walnuts, peppers, ingredients from oily fishes, and other things that grow skin on a person’s body while making it healthy before being painfully skinned. This is their lives and a person may be skinned at least three times a week. I try to free these people from the ropes and chains binding them, but I’m stopped before the shrouded wagon containing them is set ablaze.

“What did you do that for?!” I ask the person who did it.

“These degenerates allowed themselves to be enslaved, skinned, and used for perverted purposes.”

“They were slaves. They could hardly do anything.”

“You were a slave too, but you managed to escape.”

“I barely managed to escape.”

“And yet you did. You were wise enough to know that death is preferable to being a slave to your passions. These people didn’t do that and chose to subject themselves to the perversions of others. If they died while escaping or at least resisting, then I could say that they died honorably, but now they will suffer flames worse than this in the afterlife because of their decision not to do anything.”

There’s no convincing this person of what I think and it’s way past too late to save the slaves. From here on, I take better notice of the faults of these penitential people. The prisoners that we take from this ambush and the other ones were taken by other people are beaten to near death, mocked, spit on, and yelled at before they are healed and put through it all over again until the prisoners either die or repent and become one of us. This in addition to certain members being given special days off while the rest of us aren’t gives me the feeling that I should leave and perhaps join another group like this one. What makes me make plans to leave is the realization is that these people are proud of their humility and virtue.

They get off to this like the worshippers of the flesh in what might as well be a lewd way. In our meetings and short times of rest, we all tell each other how virtuous we are when we share the things we’ve done and the pain we’ve gone through. The one who suffered and gave the most is praised by everyone and is allowed to skip on whatever penances they want while being immune to any form of criticism for whatever sins of sloth or gluttony they may commit. It then occurs to me that these people are kind of like the people they hate except these people please themselves by telling themselves how good they are while doing things that may be viewed as good. No, wait. These people are exactly like their enemies except they sin differently.

Because of this, I leave in the middle of the night with nothing on me. The cover of the ebony moon that dulls most light should cover my exit. There has to be some place I can live where it’s at least somewhat tolerable. While I exit this place, I feel as if someone is watching me and the random sounds I hear don’t make it any better.

“If you leave, don’t bother coming back,” I hear whispered in my ear.

I don’t bother to turn around and just run in the direction I was heading and leave the town as I wander a dead forest filled with rotting trees and insects that feast on their carcasses. Where am I even going? Where should I go? My life has not changed ever since I decided to make a drastic change in it. No, it’s gotten worse. Everything I’ve done has been for nothing. Everything I do has turned against me. I guess it makes sense since I’m an idiot among idiots or rather the most idiotic person in the world. Nothing I do is good and nothing I will do will make up for my pathetic existence.

What’s happening now? I must be hallucinating or the ghosts from the past are back for revenge. In the distance, I can see what looks to be my wife and with my two infant children strapped to her back with cloth. Are they really there? I’m not sure what’s scarier. Them being there or me hallucinating. I think it would be them being there especially after what I’ve done to them.

“Siegfried! Siegfried!” I hear my wife call out as she runs towards me.

It really is them. Fear freezes me like two invisible angels holding my feet down so I can stand before my wife’s judgment. When she approaches me, she embraces me before giving me a kiss.

“Siegfried, I’m so glad that we finally managed to find you. We’ve been looking everywhere for you! Why did you leave us?”

I clench my fists as I muster up an answer. There’s no use hiding it anymore.

“I’m not worth your love after what I did.”

“What do you mean? You saved us from the fire that engulfed our home. You’re our hero-”

“I’m the one who started the fire!”

“What?”

“I couldn’t bear to watch my family suffer this reality anymore. At first, I was going to cut your throats while you slept to make it quick and easy, but then I couldn’t go through with it. I even thought I was going to cut my own throat. Then, I decided to burn the house down with you in it.”

“You saved us from the fire.”

“That doesn’t make up for the fact that I started it. I thought you died due to the smoke because you nor our children were waking up. I…I was also afraid of confessing what I’ve done, and…I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t mean much and that I’ve taken away the little that we had through my actions. Please, just leave me. I’m not someone you can be proud of saying that you married and had a family with. Please, for your own sake and the sake of our children.”

I walk away from my wife only to be pulled back into her arms.

“You are the one that I said that I would be married to forever. You are the one that I said that I love forever, and that’s not going to change because of what you did. It doesn’t matter that we no longer have a house or any kind of life because we have each other and that’s all that matters. Together, we can start again somewhere else. It doesn’t matter how hard it may be. I trust that we can make it through anything because of the love we share.”

“I’m not worth it.”

“Of course you are. You apologized to me and I forgive you.”

I can do nothing now except cry. My wife’s seemingly unending capacity for forgiveness is astounding. Her faith is what has kept our family going and is what’s bringing me back to her. Perhaps now, I will actually practice her faith with her so I can be the husband that she deserves.

“Th-thank you. I promise to be a better man for you,” I say.

“I know you will be,” she answers back that almost makes me cry again.

“Where should we head to now?”

“Maybe we should make our living here or in the farmlands. I’ve heard that it’s not as hostile as the towns.”

“The farmlands suffer constant droughts, famine, and attacks from wild beasts.”

“That’s better than what we had where we were before.”

“Ah, you’re right. Let’s try it.”

I take my wife’s hand, kiss her, and kiss my children before we head out. It may be difficult and even unbearably so to live, but it’s worth it. My wife reminds me that we shouldn’t live to make ourselves happy nor to center our beliefs on what makes us happy. Instead, we should live for truth and love even if it makes us feel miserable because in the end living and suffering for real love and truth is its own reward.

The End

Skin Like Rags: Chapter 1 – Corpses Worn Like Crowns

Chapter 1 – Corpses Worn Like Crowns

When humanity chose to shed its true nature to play god, they also paid the price by shedding their skin. Now, the more skin they wear, the more they are tempted to do evil. I am among many of these sinners and may be the worst. Siegfried is my name and a curse it may be if people knew my misdeeds. Even so, I still suffer despite my many honest confessions and acts of penance. There’s no reason I should try anymore. Everything that I’ve lived for has been burned away to ash, and with it, my reasons for living. I could’ve done something, but I was too weak to do anything but walk away.

It's not like I had a chance anyway. I was working in a place that actively hurt me for a meager wage that was hardly worth it, to say the least. Puppeteers and masters play with power like children. They thrive on the business of skincare and the illegal practice of wearing other skins than their own. On the other hand, the poor can be no different in taking advantage of their own to make their own lives a bit more bearable. Who is truly good in this world where the truth doesn’t matter and love has a price and debt to go along with it?

For these reasons, I will try to fit in with those who focus their lives on the flesh. I might as well try to enjoy myself as much as I can. It doesn’t matter if I enjoy myself in the right or wrong way. All I want is to live a happy life and to feel good living it. After letting myself be debased and sacrificing much of my skin to get into exclusive places where those in power “relax”, I finally manage to see the luxuries that they enjoy, except these luxuries are something more than even I can handle.

People dress in the skins of other people and even animals to enact their fetishes upon willing and unwilling people. I knew that those who could afford to make fake skin suits and those who stole other people’s skins used them for selfish purposes, but I didn’t imagine that the rumors about them would be true. Here I see a neighbor I thought I wouldn’t see again. She wanted her son to be like the boy next door to her. Her son struggled in school, wasn’t well liked, and wasn’t as handsome according to her. To remedy this, she took the skin off the other boy and forced her son to wear it. I don’t know what happened after, but I do know the boy killed himself because of his mother’s abuse and his mother disowning him for another. Apparently, she has deep connections and was able to get out of prison only after a year.

This may sound silly, but this is not the most surprising sight. No, the most surprising thing to see here is clothes. People struggle to get even the simplest of patches of skin on their body and these people are wearing clothes. Fine dresses, underwear, pants, shirts, and the like of various kinds adorn their bodies. To put this ridiculousness in perspective, the skin of some of the most powerful people in the world is just as valuable as a simple shirt and pants because clothes show high status. For some reason, this pushes me over the edge. Despite all the depravity around me, despite me debasing myself so I could have my own custom skinsuit, I feel that this is too much. I have always been a foolish man and as I look at myself in a gold plated mirror, I see a handsome, stronger man, but that is not me.

I cut off my fake skin suit and throw it to flesh craving slaves. Sure, I could’ve sold it or worn it until I got out to not draw attention to myself, but I couldn’t stand to live in that fake skin any longer. While I try to leave in the chaos, several people approach me. These wear the more expensive skin suits such as those of animals and important figures with some even wearing clothes.

“Where are you going, Siegfried?” a man says as he jumps in front of me. He startles me because of the goatskin and head that he wears.

“Yes, where are you going? We were going to have so much fun together,” his wife says from behind me. His wife is cloaked in a lion’s skin and wears a lion’s head.

“I’m…walking out for fresh air,” I lie.

“Is the smell of Heaven too strong for you? It’s not like this smell is completely unfamiliar to you since it’s only a stronger one compared to what you’re used to.”

They have me caught. In my desperation to get out of here, I stab the man in front of me in the throat with the knife I used to cut off my skin then throw him to his wife before saying, “The goat is dead!”

This attracts the attention of many who begin to fight over his corpse. Many are trampled and killed while fighting over the animal’s skin as I manage to escape the scene and the underground building. I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy to see the blood orange sun in the sky today.

“Where did he go?” I hear someone say from behind me.

“Check the perimeter while we check inside. He couldn’t have gotten far.”

Seeing as I’m still being chased, I try to lose my pursuers by going through the crowds of the town I’m in. Going through the crowds reminds me of the life I left behind. The struggling families and the homeless people begging for skin are sights that I don’t see changing any time soon. There’s no way for me to go back to that life. In fact, it’ll be a worse life if I do. What was I thinking when I chose to do this? These distracting thoughts make me take a path through the town that leads me to the edge of a cliff. Here, there is no escape and my pursuers catch up to me.

“If you come back with us, you’ll be welcomed back with a newly made skin after you suffer for your actions, of course,” one of them says.

“The suffering will be pleasurable and your rewards will be what was promised. A seat at our table, pleasures and wealth beyond your imagination, a wife or husband of your choosing, and power in the world behind the veil of our secrecy.”

Hearing this all is very tempting even though I have no skin on my body, and yet, I feel free enough to make a decision. Funnily enough, I feel freer than I’ve felt in a while. These people of the flesh say what they offer is freedom and happiness, but I’ve been constrained by them. Their dogma of the flesh made me a slave to their passions and my own as we sook pleasure at the cost of others and ourselves. With my choices laid before me, I choose death. I jump off the cliff and into the deep dark unknown and giving myself to the judgment of fate.

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All Adela ever wanted to do was to be a simple gardener, but with the way the world is, she'll find that to be a nearly impossible goal. One day, a snake in her garden tells her that she can make the world a more welcoming place for people like her. She will have to sacrifice her tongue and do some nefarious things for this to happen but are her actions just because she gets good results?

Self-Ascension: Chapter 3 – Wings of Wax

Chapter 3 – Wings of Wax

A few months have passed and progressive appears steady but feels stagnant.

“If you wish to join us, you must prove what you are willing to do everything that the weak willed cannot,” Adela says.

“Bu-but am I worthy enough?” the man asks.

“Yes, you are.”

The man puts the chewed grapes from his mouth into Adela’s mouth as if the two were lovers passionately kissing. Veritas burrows itself into the man’s throat and eats his heart. Adela then spits at the man’s corpse.

“Traitors like you don’t deserve redemption.”

Adela wipes her mouth then walks out of the room and back into the party where Doloro awaits her in a dressy outfit that hides the scars of his penance so well that you thought that he’d given them up. Guards go into the room that she was in to clean up the mess and make it look like nothing happened.

“Is it done?” Doloro asks.

“Why wouldn’t it be? I just wish we had fewer traitors in our ranks.”

“That’s what happens when you give them seats in high places. Not everyone who says they pledge loyalty to the noble snakes is honest. In any case, it’s not worth worrying over a problem we should leave to the snakes. Enjoy the rest of the party.”

“You should more than I because of the penances you do.”

“I haven’t been doing as many since I was given so many luxuries.”

“You still smell like sweat and blood still.”

“It’s a natural odor that the ladies find attractive. It’s a sign of a hardworking man.”

“Haha, if you say so.”

Going into a dressing room, Adela fixes her golden makeup and looks at herself in the mirror. The girl she once was is seemingly gone as her once brown hair is now dyed gold, her once plain hairstyle is now pigtails with what seem to be horns in the center, makeup obscures any signs of stress, her skin has become pale, and she dresses like nobility unlike the simple gardener that she was.

“Why do we always have to exchange one problem for another? Give to one cause, put another on the side. Give some people a second chance, deny it for others. Relax for one month, work without rest for an entire week.”

“Don’t you worry about that, Adela. This is the way of the world. It’s a game of inches. There are moments of great victory and there are moments of utter defeat. What matters to that you stay true to yourself,” Veritas says.

“Or at least the me that you want me to be. I don’t feel worthy of being the one who’s the voice of our movement in this part of the country.”

“Every hero and saint didn’t think much of themselves before they were recognized for their great deeds. If they did, they wouldn’t be icons that people look up to. Think about that when I put on our next act.”

 After fixing herself up, Adela exits the room and goes up to the front of the room.

“And here is the voice of Veritas, the honorable and elegant Adela,” an announcer says as a spotlight shines on Adela and she is given a microphone.

“Thank you. Friends and family, we are the shepherds of society. Without our guidance, without the goodness and truth we bring to the world, it would be a dark place. Remember to be humble and remember that you are servants of everyone around you. Remember also to be realistic. You are modern heroes and icons. Both fictional and non-fictional stories will be written about us if we keep our current course and listen to the noble snakes. Stay true to yourself and thank you for everything you’ve done. We wouldn’t be here without you.”

The party claps and cheers for one another and for Adela especially her parents that proudly acknowledge her as their daughter. She is encouraged to relax at the party, but she would rather relax somewhere else in her own way, so she leaves the party and goes home. This home of hers is a new one bought by her actions and one that she lives in by herself. It’s a fairly large house with an even larger garden in the back. After dismissing the gardeners, she inspects their work to see that they’ve been keeping the garden healthy.

She begins to tend to it until Veritas tells her that, “You must get your rest. You have all weekend to play with your garden.”

“You said that last week and two weeks before that. I hardly get to do what I want anymore despite having excuses to do it,” Adela points out.

“But at least you have the chance. That’s more than what most people can do. Get your rest and you’ll have the whole day for yourself. When have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Okay, fine. I am exhausted after all.”

“Good.”

Adela rests in her luxurious bed and wakes up the next morning. She immediately gets dressed up in gardening attire and is about to get to work until she hears someone ring her doorbell. Going to answer it, she finds Doloro at her door who appears to be in a panic.

“Doloro? Why are you here so early without calling me first? What’s wrong?” Adela asks.

“It’s my parents. They died late last night. All that penance I did and all the money I spent for their medical treatments hardly extended their lives,” Doloro says.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Come in and rest.”

Doloro enters Adela’s house and paces back and forth while saying, “There is no time to rest. I talked to a spiritualist who told me that they would go to Hell. Veritas is the noble snake of truth and I was hoping he would know how I could prevent this.”

“You have the answer. You probably already know it. You’ve lived a life of self-sacrifice and it only makes sense that it ends that way. Sacrifice your life for your parents. Go to Hell for them and they will be saved.”

Adela struggles to speak after what Veritas has spoken through her.

“I felt that was the answer. I was named after what my parents thought I was, so it makes sense that I live and die in pain, but are you sure? Can you further consult Veritas on this?”

“Veritas has told me this through the connection we have. It is the only way to save their souls. Think of it. A true hero, no, a true faithful son would do anything to save the souls of his parents even at the cost of his own.”

“I wish it wasn’t like this.”

“You spent your entire life doing penance for people like them and now you have a definitive answer to save your parent’s souls from eternal pain. Didn’t you suffer for them so they wouldn’t go to Hell?”

“I did, but I never saw them change their ways. Not once. Still, you’re right.”

Doloro takes one of the nails out of his skin and is about to shove it into his throat. Adela desperately tries to talk but is unable to. Instead, she grabs his hands to try to prevent him from killing himself. At the same time, he struggles to go through with it.

“Heh, despite all the pain I put myself through, I can’t do this. Maybe I’m being too hasty. I’m sorry you have to see this,” Doloro says.

“It’s okay. Let me help you.”

Veritas uses itself to push Adela’s hands forward so that Doloro can stab his nail into his throat. Even then, he struggles to die as he chokes on his own blood. Adela begins to panic as she continues to hold Doloro’s hands unsure of what to do.

“I’m sorry,” Adela manages to say before Veritas strikes through Doloro’s head with itself to end his suffering.

For the first time in a while, Adela feels sick and almost pukes as she tries to hold back her tears.

“You should be used to gore going into your mouth,” Veritas points out.

“But not the gore of a friend,” Adela says.

“You two were hardly friends. More like business partners. I spoke to him more than you did.”

“But he was still a friend. The only one I got to know anything about. Was it sacrifice worth it?”

“His parents are in Heaven while he is in Hell.”

Not sure whether to say it’s good or not, Adela gets her servants to take Doloro’s body and start making funeral arrangements. She is not versed in spiritual and religious ideas so she accepts Veritas’ knowledge of what happened to Doloro’s soul and the souls of his parents. Because of what happened, she loses the will to do any gardening and just lets her servants massage her and comfort her with words to lessen the pain of her sadness. News then comes to her of more traitors within the ranks of those dedicated to the noble snakes.

“You must go and deal with this traitor,” Veritas says.

“Why should I? I’ve done enough. Inspired enough people with my voice or rather your voice. Get someone else to do it while I rest,” Adela responds in a tired voice.

“What would Doloro want you to do? He stayed true to himself and died a hero. An example that people will live by for ages to come.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll go.”

Adela heads out to where the traitors are to find that they’re in a similarly large house like hers that was gifted to them. There’s a wedding party happening at the house with many families and friends of the traitors there celebrating the occasion. When Adela approaches the doors, no one thinks anything about it. Not even the traitors.

“Punish the families of the traitors,” Veritas whispers.

“Why? Do you know if they’re working with the traitors or unaware of their crimes? What are even the crimes that the traitors committed?” Adela asks quietly.

“What they did doesn’t matter because what the noble snakes like I command is always right. You don’t even need to bloody your hands. Go near the food and drink and I will do the rest.”

“Fine.”

Going up to the various buffets, Adela gets close enough to them so that Veritas can touch them with its fangs. Various guests eat and drink what Veritas touched and don’t seem to be affected by what it did at all.

“Is your plan going to work?” Adela whispers to Veritas.

“Yes, give it some time. Enjoy the party while you’re here but remember to not eat or drink anything that I touched.”

Seeing as there’s nothing better to do, Adela walks around the party while trying not to get involved with anyone since they will soon be dead. The religious paintings and statues get Adela’s attention with a particular statue of a woman grabbing her attention. This woman is clothed with the sun, has the moon and a snake underneath her feet, and is crowned with twelve stars. Underneath the statue are the words, “The Immaculate”. Its gaze matches Adela as it appears to almost be talking to her but is hardly audible. However, she still hears a message in her heart that’s clearer now than before. “Stop this. Walk away from it. Do not trust the snake”. Veritas tries waking her up from listening to the voice and has to bite the inside of Adela’s mouth to wake her up.

“Adela!” Veritas says.

“Wha-what?”

“Do you see this religion that these traitors worship? They are enemies of the noble snakes.”

“Don’t we accept all religions and beliefs?”

“We accept them all no matter how contradictory they are to us, but this one is particularly against us and must be punished for it. Speaking of punishments, the show is about to begin.”

The wife and husband make their speech to their families and friends. Once the speech is done, the bride begins to spit blood and collapses on the floor in a spasm.  The husband also dies shortly after except his blood spills out of his body until a dried husk is left. Everyone else who ate and drank dies in similar but variously painful methods of having all of their blood come out of their body in one manner or another. No one is spared. Not even the children or the infants in this slaughter, and when the reality of it finally hits Adela, she is horrified.

“Do not worry about it, Adela. Go back home and enjoyed a well-deserved rest. Your garden awaits,” Veritas says.

“Still…”

“Still what? You did the right thing. These traitors would have soured our cause. Turned good into evil if you hadn’t done anything.”

“And we do evil to do good? How does that make sense?”

“Because we are good. Everything that we do, even evil, produces something good. Do you not remember the people we inspire? The people we save from suicide and their mundane lives? We save people from their despair and make them hope in us.”

“No, you do not, liar,” a woman’s voice says.

Adela is shocked to hear someone’s voice after what happened and turns to see that the statue that she was fascinated by is alive.

Veritas is terrified of the woman and begs Adela, “Do not listen to this woman! She-”

“Silence, deceiver,” the woman says. Veritas is strangely silenced and is unable to say or do anything. “Do not trust that snake who is better fit to be stepped on than acknowledged. You are more false than the truth you claim to be.”

“Who are you?” Adela asks.

“I am the Immaculate, a mother to you who has been watching over you. I am here to save you from your evil ways before it is too late.”

“Evil? When have I ever done anything truly evil?”

“You just questioned yourself after this horrible deed that you’ve done, and I’m sure you questioned yourself every time something like this happened even when you were used to it.”

“Veritas did everything.”

“You let him do it through you. Is not a person who hires an assassin to do his dirty work not as guilty as the assassin?”

“I could say the same thing to you. Why have you taken so long to accuse me of my crimes?”

“Your conscience has been accusing you this entire time despite you trying to frame these atrocities as good.”

“I have made the lives of hundreds of people better! My family loves me now more than ever, and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Since when does evil produce such good things?”

“It doesn’t, but it can fool you into thinking you are doing the right thing. Look around you. Look at the lovers who embraced each other until death. Look at the children with their blood spilling from their eyes and mouth. Have you made the lives of these people better? You have the blood of innocents on your hands and they scream out for justice. You cannot redefine evil because you think it is good. You cannot call yourself a hero when you act like a devil.”

Adela wrestles with what she knows to be true versus what she wants to be true.

“What would you have me do then?”

“Cut off Veritas from your tongue and put this life behind you.”

“You want me to do what?! If I do that, then I’ll lose the respect of everyone including my parents.”

“Would you rather do that or repeat what you’ve done today a hundred more times until you join your friend and his parents in Hell?”

“Doloro and his parents are in Hell…”

After giving it some thought, Adela takes a silver knife from the dining table and cuts off her own tongue. She writhes in pain for a short while before picking up her tongue and examines Veritas’ now rotting head. Turning back to the woman, she sees her leaving the house and pointing outside to a church in the distance. Assuming it's her next destination, Adela looks to the woman in a vain attempt to ask what it is only to see that she’s turned back into a statue. With nowhere else to go, Adela goes to this church to find that it’s an abbey of nuns. Outside of this church is the same statue of the woman with the title under it being “Church of the Immaculate Mother”. Going into it, a nun runs up to her in worry because of the blood on her.

“What happened to you? Are you okay?” the nun asks.

Adela shakes her head.

“Then you came to the right place. We have nurses here that can help you.”

The nuns help heal Adela’s tongue and give her some time to rest before asking her anything else.

“What’s your name? Here, write your answers here,” the nun says before handing Adela a notepad.

Adela writes her name.

“What a beautiful name. You look like that Adela girl I’ve seen on TV and in advertisements. Are you the same one?”

The nun’s question makes Adela hesitate to write before she eventually writes yes.

“Oh my. Sorry, I’m surprised you came here. Why is that by the way?”

Adela looks at the nun and writes that the Immaculate lead her here.

“Oh, if our Lady led you here, then it must be for a good reason. I mean no offense by this, but when I saw you on TV you were leading people astray with the cause that you were a part of. We’ve been praying for people like you and that our Lady would help you. It looks like our prayers were answered.”

Hearing this makes Adela write that she wants to repent and change her ways.

“I’m glad to hear it or see that I mean. Talk-or write to the priest your sins and we’ll see what you can do around here for your penance.”

Adela does as the nun instructs, receives absolution, then goes back to her to write to her what she did.

“That was your first confession? It’s better late than never for that. In fact, all nuns here confess their sins every week or two. You’re among repentant sinners like yourself and we welcome you to our humble home. Now, for your daily duties, you must tend the garden. Can you do that?”

This surprises Adela to hear as she excitingly shakes her head. The garden in the abbey is much like the one that she had in her old house except with statues of the Immaculate plus some other saints in it. Finally, Adela finds herself where she wanted to be. Even though the life of a nun isn’t what she wanted, it’s the one that is making her happy while also being the dream she wanted to live and in a setting where she can do some actual good rather than evil pretending to be good that she was doing before. Though the noble snakes continue their plots, Adela hopes and prays that the world will be better even if she doesn’t directly affect it, and if someone like her can change, then anyone can.

 

The End

Self-Ascension: Chapter 2 – Crowned with Blood and Muck

Chapter 2 – Crowned with Blood and Muck

While heading to the sewers, Adela is scoffed at for her smell and appearance. No one thinks that she got in trouble or needs help since they have troubles of their own to attend to. Veritas leads Adela to a certain entrance of the sewers, which she enters while trying not to breathe in the putrid stench. In this section of the sewers, she finds that the sewer is dry. Going further in, she finds signs of its former inhabitants with dried blood, clothes, rotten food, cooking appliances, and even bullet holes in the walls. Eventually, Adela reaches a chained-up door that’s locked.

She knocks on it and says, “Hello?” No one responds to her. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Yes, it is. Put your faith in me so that I may speak through you,” Veritas says.

“Okay. Open the door. I’m a friend of Veritas.”

The door unlocks and a voice from the darkness says, “What a relief. So, the time has finally come, has it?”

“It has,” Adela says while not knowing what she means.

She assumes that Veritas is speaking through her and a worrying thought enters her head. A worrying thought that Veritas might say something through her that she doesn’t want to say, but there’s nothing really that should make her distrust the snake so she puts aside the feeling for now. A boy walks out from the darkness and startles Adela. This boy is clothed with dirty rags and appears to have various nails pierced into his mouth, arms, fingers, legs, and other parts of his body.

“Are you still doing penance for the sorry souls of this world?” Adela unexpectedly continues.

“Yes, I am. Did Veritas tell you that?”

“He just did.”

“Someone needs to be thinking about other people’s souls and I’m one of the only ones who do besides you and our other friends of course.”

Entering the boy’s dark room, Adela finds various tools of penance such as whips and ashes along with various kinds of books.

“Is anyone else here with you?”’

“No, it’s just me here.”

“Why are you here by yourself? Are you an orphan?”

“No, I have parents. I’m here because I want to change the world for the better and I’m the only one here because there are few brave enough to try to change the world like us.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t ask you what your name was. I’m Adela.”

“I’m Doloro. It’s nice to finally meet someone who’s, well, nice.”

The uneasy feeling that Adela had about Doloro is gone and is replaced with a feeling of pity for the boy that’s her age.

“Are you ready for the show?”

“I am. The fruits of my training will show today. The other noble snakes have told me that their actors are in position and ready to help us.”

“Other noble snakes like Veritas? Am I an actor also?”

“Yes, and in a sort of way yes. You aren’t an actor like our friends, but you are an actor in the greater plot of the snakes.”

“Is everyone assigned a snake like I am?”

“If by assigned, you mean in contact with one then yes. The snake that gave me the idea to do what I’m doing now is named Gratuiti. A scarred fellow that cut itself into several pieces to show its devotion in doing penance for others before it put itself back together.”

“Veritas was different with me.”

“I know. It’s an honest snake that will be our voice that will convince the world to change. How does it tell you to speak like it?”

“He, uh, we have a close connection.”

Adela wants to explain how Veritas replaced her tongue and how it makes her speak what it wants but feels unable to for some reason.

“I won’t pry any further if it’s personal. Would you like to go now? The start of our work is about to begin.”

“Let’s go.”

Doloro puts on a cloak and better clothes to hide the scars of his penance before they head out. After the two exit the sewer, they are immediately greeted by the scene of someone jumping off a building and being splattered on the ground. Adela is stunned by this while everyone else around her reacts similarly before going back to what they were doing with only a single person calling an ambulance to clean the mess.

“This common sight must be made rare. I’ll have to do more penance to ensure this,” Doloro says.

“I haven’t seen it as much so your penances are working,” Adela says.

“Thank you for assuring me of that. Now that I see you in the light, I see the putrid mess on you. Are you alright?”

Adela has to take a second to absorb the irony of Doloro asking if she’s alright before she says, “Yes, I’m fine. I’ll be better after the show is done.”

“Then let’s get it started. We’re not far from where we’re meant to be.”

Doloro leads Adela to a stage that's set up for the town’s New Year’s celebration. Stage attendants and guards let the two up to the stage while communicating to other people through their earpieces. What’s about to happen really feels like a stage performance and Adela is nervous since she’s the only one without a script and hopes that Veritas will say the right things for her.

Before she steps on the stage, a woman runs to her, pulls her back, and asks, “Are you Adela?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then you must come with me. An icon like you can’t be seen as you are.”

“I was waiting for you to fix up my appearance. To think I was going to go on stage looking like this What took you so long?”

“Forgive me. There’s just so much to keep track of.”

The woman leads Adela to a place where she’s dressed up. Adela is cleaned up, adorned with pearls, precious metals, and a golden dress with a snake design in the middle that appears as if that it was meant for a princess. In addition, she is given a golden wig to add to her royal appearance. Now more confident in herself, Adela steps on stage with Doloro and several other people taking their places on the stage, around it, and beyond it.

Adela then speaks in a microphone without knowing what to say, “Listen to what I have to say, you who needlessly suffer.”

People in the crowd begin to pay attention to with some being corralled so they don’t move from the area. In addition, there are cameras from news organizations and social media influences that have their eyes on her thanks to the allure in her voice. Doloro steps forward and reveals the scars of his penances. He presses the nails deeper into his body to allow it to bleed without so much as winching.

“This boy bleeds and hurts himself for your benefit. He offers up his pain so that the consequences of your sins don’t end your lives early. Why aren’t you like him? Why don’t you apologize for your actions or do anything to atone for them? Is it because you think you are blameless or your reasons for committing evil deeds are justifiable? I have no pity for people like you or like this one right here.”

A man with a blindfold is brought up to the stage next to Adela.

“You may recognize him. You may have even given money to his cause. A cause that he uses as set dressing to enrich himself and his friends. I spit at trash like him.”

Adela spits at the man as Veritas says she does through her. The man’s crimes are shown on digital billboards and the TVs around the area resulting in the crowd yelling at him and criticizing him.

“Oh, if it only were so easy to be so harsh on him and call him irredeemable. All of you have similar sins that make you look the same or even worse than him.”

Videos and images then show on the TVs of the crimes of everyone in the area, which makes them walk away in shame, but these people are prevented from moving because of Veritas’ allies.

“Be ashamed of what you’ve done, but do not despair. Join me, and together we’ll expose the evils of the world and remake it into a better world. A better world that we all deserve.”

The crowd cheers for her and say that they’ll join her. From the smallest child to the wealthiest adult, many come to her and her allies to enlist their aid.

“I see that many are willing, but who is able? Bring forward more of the guilty!”

More people like the man on stage are brought on stage with their legs and arms restrained, and their eyes blindfolded, and a cloth around their mouths so they don’t speak.

“Do with these people what you know is right! Bring them to jail, humiliate them where they stand, do whatever you choose. The innocent have the right to do with the guilty what they want. Do not worry about the authorities nor what others will think or do to you. Just do what is right because you are blameless!”

The people do as Adela says and do what they want with the guilty people on the stage. Some bring the guilty to the cops while most beat the guilty until they’re barely alive or dead. Either way, Adela is drunk off the excitement that is happening and the following month seemingly passes by like a dream. She becomes one of the primary voices of the movement, her parents are proud of her, and, most of all, she can do her gardening more often. It’s a dream come true, however, the public displays of justice and ruining the lives of their enemies make Adela feel uneasy. On the other hand, she is constantly reminded that she is doing the right thing by her friends and family and the results of her actions appear to do the same with the lives of everyone improving around her, or at least that's what it seems.

Self-Ascension: Chapter 1 – Goodness Without Grace

Chapter 1 – Goodness Without Grace

Everyone wants to live in a place where they feel comfortable. What people may not realize is that they would prefer living around people who share the same views in a small residence more than living in a comfortable house near people with who they fundamentally disagree with. What’s the point of talking to someone who values different things than you do? You might as well be speaking a different language to them. Children work and go to school for careers that will financially sustain them, but not all jobs are meant to be worked by everyone. As a result, many are miserable as they take their place as another cog in the machine where their parents work and struggle to find their way out or at least a way to cope with reality.

“Hmm, what to do, what to do…” Adela says to herself as she tends her parent’s garden in the backyard.

While gardening, she remembers the gardening shop on the corner. She remembers the kind woman, the fun conversations they had together, the hope that she gave Adela, and her shop’s closing.

“The plants are looking healthy today,” someone who she thinks is her father says.

Adela fumbles with her gardening tools and is too ashamed to look behind her.

“Da-dad. I was just doing my daily duties. Nothing more. I’ll start studying and looking for a job-”

“Adela, you know why you can’t be a gardener.”

“I know it’s not financially smart, but it’s what I want to do. It’s what I’m good at and I’m willing to take the risk if you’ll just let me prove myself to you. If I fail, then I’ll learn.”

“Is that how you really feel?”

“I’m sorry, dad, but it is.”

Adela closes her eyes and winces; however, she is surprised to feel hugged. When she opens her eyes, she doesn’t see her father’s arms around her, but still assumes that she was hugged.

“It’s okay. What kind of father would I be if I didn’t want to see my daughter happy doing what she wanted to do?”

“Dad…I…”

With a smile on her face and thankfulness in her heart, Adela turns around and sees only a snake in the garden and not her father. She looks around calling for her dad.

“I’m here, Adela, but I’m not your father,” the snake says.

Adela has to take a second to accept the fact that the snake spoke to her before she says, “You…spoke to me? In my dad’s voice?”

“Yes, I did,” the snake says as it changes from her dad’s voice to its true voice, “Hello, Adela.”

“Who are you, and what do you want with me?”

“I know who you are and I know your pain. I see the potential to change the world within you if you’ll only let me help you.”

“Help you change the world? I just want to be a gardener.”

“You will be, but don’t you also want to change the world around you? I’m sure you want to at least change your parent’s way of thinking. Don’t you love them?”

“I want to.”

“Then let me help you.”

She considers for a little bit before deciding, “I will. How will you help me?”

“Open your mouth and I will replace your tongue with myself. In this way, I will help you convince the world to change.”

“Replace my tongue with yourself?” Adela gulps at the idea. “How will that help?”

“I convinced you that I was your father and I have a very sly way with words. Besides, you can’t change the world on your own and I know what we should do. In addition, if you continue on this path, you’ll end up like that gardener you were friends with or worse. You could be like your parents.”

“Okay, fine. Do it.”

“I promise to be quick.”

The snake enters Adela’s mouth, eats her tongue, and becomes it. By the time it’s done, Adela feels as if she’s had surgery done to her mouth while being completely awake and aware of the pain.

“Wha-what. Is it over?”

“You can speak, so yes.”

“Thank you.”

“I said it would be quick, but I didn’t say anything about it not being painful. Trust me when I say that this will probably be the least painful thing you will endure in your journey. Speaking of that, we must visit that friend of yours. The gardener.”

“We’re going to visit her? Where is she?”

“In her shop.”

“She’s still there? It’s been closed for a while, and I haven’t seen anyone enter or leave it.”

“That’s because the people who run the city have better things to do than to clean up some dusty closed shop that few cared about to begin with.”

Without wanting to ask any questions, Adela heads out to the shop and looks for a way in. Once in, she finds that the once beautiful garden that she helped tend to is now dead along with everything else in the shop. The entire place reeks of decay, and speaking about decay, Adela finds the corpse of the woman she once looked up to hanging by a noose in her room. She can hardly handle the sight as she tries to look away but can hardly muster the strength to do so.

“This isn’t real…this has to be a bad dream!” Adela says aloud.

“It is reality,” the snake says.

“Why…why did you want me to come here? Just to see this?”

“It is one of the reasons. This would’ve been your fate if you had not accepted my offer. You would’ve tried to live your life the way you wanted to only to be crushed by it, and with no one to help or care for you, you would’ve given in to despair and ended your life. The second reason is this.”

The snake goes out of Adela’s mouth and seemingly brings the woman back to life. With the spark of life back in her eyes, the corpse of a woman struggles to free herself with fingers that appear to have already struggled to do this because of the marks on them.

“Adela…Adela…” the woman tries to say.

“I’m here! I’ll find something to cut you down!”

“No, it’s too late for me. I only have a short time left here because of the snake that same snake who helped me make my dreams come true even for a short while. The snake is the reason why I was able to get a shop to begin with, but I didn’t follow its directions. Come here and open your mouth, so I can part to you a baptism to strengthen you so you could do what I could not.”

“What? Why?”

“Do as she says, Adela. You’re a strong girl and this blessing will give you the strength you need for the future.”

Adela nervously does as the woman says and opens her mouth. Suddenly, the woman pukes at her until her entire body explodes while Adela herself gets sick and pukes out some of what she ingested.

“What-what was that?” Adela hardly manages to say while sick.

“You were given the blessing that I gave her. Now, you are stronger than before. Who else would be brave enough to do what you’ve done? The day isn’t even done and you’ve proven yourself stronger and more selfless than most in the world.”

Adela leaves the room with the little strength she has and sits in the dead garden while wiping her face with her hands.

“Now…now what do I do?”

“Now, we meet some of my friends. You didn’t think that you would change the world by yourself, did you?”

“No, but I still don’t know what to think. I don’t even know your name.”

“Since you keep asking, you can call me Veritas.”

“Okay, Veritas. After I clean up, where should I go next?”

“There’s no need to shower because you’re going to go to the sewers. You’ll find my friends there and a shortcut in the sewers will lead you to the next area I want you to go to.”

“You’re really asking a lot of me. All I’m good at is gardening.”

“All heroes and idols went above and beyond for the causes they believed in. If you want to garden in peace, make your parents proud, and live in a happier world, then you’ll have to sacrifice gardening for now.”

“…okay. It’s not like there’s anything better I can do.”

“There’s that light in you that I saw that made me chose you. You don’t know it yet, but you will be an icon that people will look up to. You’ll be among the greats.”

Before going to the sewer entrance, Adela takes one last look back at the dead garden and the shop. She silently vows to make the woman she looked up to proud as she turns away and starts her unexpected journey.