Selfishness, Selflessness, and Sundays: Chapter 3 – A Usual Sunday

Chapter 3 – A Usual Sunday

Today is Sunday, which is perfect because I have to take it easy. At first, I think the events of yesterday were a dream until I see the gifts on the table. The temptation to think of myself as a murderer and not worthy of being a doctor anymore, but I remind myself that I was justified and ask for God’s help in staying strong against these temptations. I do my best to ignore them as I make my way to church, through mass, and after leaving it. Mass was good and I liked the priest who sounded caring, understanding, and optimistic during his preaching. He welcomed the new parishioners and talked about how we shouldn’t let these faithless times bring us down. Previous times of low church attendance and godlessness were brought up and we’re reminded that the church has risen up after every time. After mass, the church offered everyone coffee, donuts, and bagels downstairs as a way to get all of the new and old parishioners to meet and get to know one another, which was nice.

Everything from the mass to the breakfast has reinvigorated me. Even the temptations are gone. This day seems to be a relaxing one until a flying car crashes near my house. A rich young man with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a cybernetic left arm. He must be extremely rich and important not only evident because of the aforementioned cybernetic arm, but there’s not a scratch on his tuxedo, dress pants, and shoes, which means he either has a really good tailor or the clothes were made with intention of being a form of light armor against possible assassins. I’m probably overthinking it a bit too much though it isn’t uncommon for the rich to wear some kind of protective armor under their clothes because of how hated by the poor they are and the possible enemies they have in their business.

Going up to the young man, I say, “Come with me. I can take care of your wounds. I’m a doctor.”

“Thank you. I’ll call someone to take care of my car. Sorry for troubling you,” the young man says as he struggles to get up.

I help him up and walk and then say, “Don’t worry about it. Helping people is what I do.”

Getting the young man inside and downstairs, I check his wounds, clean them, and bandage him up while talking to him about his clothes. He confirms that his clothes were made by a tailor hired by his parents to protect him just in case he was attacked, but doesn’t elaborate any further on why, which I can understand why.

“Sorry I can’t do anything for your cybernetics,” I say.

“That’s fine. I have an uncle who helps me with that,” he says. Reaching into his pockets, he pulls out six hundred dollars in cash. “Here. For your help.”

“That’s too much for me just bandaging you up.”

“It’s the least I can do to thank you. This is just pocket change for me. Besides, what person helps another without expecting something in return?”

“I do. I didn’t help you because I wanted to get paid. I did it because I’m a doctor and it was the right thing to do.”

“Hmm. Then how about you take this from me for the help and for advice in addition to it.”

“I-”

“I insist.”

The young man seems honest and doesn’t seem like he’ll take no for an answer no matter how much I insist. He's as stubborn as Silas.

“Okay, fine.”

“Tell me why you became a doctor and what it means to do the right thing. I find it hard to find what I want to do despite my riches and hardly any of it feels like I’m doing the right thing.”

That’s a loaded topic to give advice about. It takes me a second to think about how to respond.

“Well, I prayed to God for what role He had for me in life, and after watching so many people sick and suffering, my heart was set on being a doctor.”

“Okay…but what does it mean to do the right thing?”

“It means to serve God in everything you do, say, and think.”

“Hmm. I’m not religious or even the least bit spiritual so I don’t know what you mean at all.”

“I’m sorry for such bad, confusing advice. I am a doctor and not a career consultant after all.”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you for your help again and here’s your payment.”

After he hands me my payment, the young man heads outside where a truck has loaded the remains of his car and another flying car is waiting for him. He waves and smiles at me as he takes off and is flown back to the city. I never expected a rich boy to seem so nice and honest from what I know and have heard from him. For some reason, I feel assured that he’ll find his God-given place in life. As for me, I go back inside and make myself lunch. For the next few hours, I relax by having the TV play in the background while I paint figures for the orphaned and poor children I help. One of the people at the charity I work at says that it’s a relaxing activity and it is for the most part.

My relaxing day is again interrupted by the sound of a car parking outside of my house and someone banging at the door. I go to answer it and am surprised to see that it’s the chief of the police who is injured.

He points his pistol at my face and says, “I know what kind of doctor you are. Don’t ask how I know or what I’ve been doing. Just put me back together and we both forget that we saw each other. Understood?”

“I understand,” I say before taking the chief downstairs and tending to his injuries.

The chief has bullet and burn wounds on him. He’s pretty beat up and passes out soon after laying down on my operating table. From what Josh told me, this man is one of the reasons why the city is so corrupt. He’s why so many crimes go unpunished or rewarded in some cases. This infamous man has been put in my hands by God. I can kill him now and make a major change in the city by doing so. My hand stops and I have to stop it from shaking as it nears his skin with a scalpel in it. His evil deeds could finally be justly rewarded and so many innocent people can be saved if I only slit his throat and have the people at the charity center dispose of his body.

No. I won’t do it. I’m a doctor and this man came to me looking for help, and, as a doctor, I am obligated to save his life no matter how stained with sin his soul may be. After taking care of his wounds and waking him up, he jolts up and immediately begins to feel the pain of his injuries.

“You should take it easy,” I say.

“I need to get out of here. Like I said before, forget that you saw me,” he says while making his way up the stairs.

As he leaves my house, he looks both ways. While he does, a revolver is put into his face and the shooter pulls the trigger killing him in an instant. I run over to see who did it and I’m surprised and not surprised at the same time to see Silas is the shooter.

“Are you okay, Natasha? Did he force you to do anything?” Silas asks.

“He got me to take care of his wounds that I’m assuming you gave him. That’s it,” I say.

“That’s good. I still have to do something to pay you back for helping me. How does dinner sound?”

“Pfft. You just shot the chief of police in front of me and you’re asking me out to dinner? Sure, why not?”

We both notice the sound of police sirens that seem to be growing louder with each passing second.

“Hold that thought. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Silas runs off presumably because of the cops that are chasing after him. Later in the night, I’m surprised to see him alive and well on TV where he is declared sheriff of the city and promises to get rid of the rest of the corruption from the city. He doesn’t come back to me until ten, which is when we go out to a fancy restaurant in one of the fancier places in the city. This place is one of those places that are mainly open during the night and into the early hours of the morning for the rich, and since Silas is the new sheriff, we have access to it with a deep discount on our bill. During our dinner, Silas talks to me about how he going to change the city and America through his actions and how he’s confident that God will make this country better than ever was before. I’m honestly confident now of what Silas says and trust that some big change is going to happen. This may just be the beginning of it, but it’s a promising one filled with the hopes of a better tomorrow that can be achieved one day at a time.

 

The End

Selfishness, Selflessness, and Sundays: Chapter 2 – Daily Temptations

Chapter 2 – Daily Temptations

An intruder breaks into my house. I grab the gun that Josh gave me and shoot him twice. After which, I heal him and strap his arms and legs down while I wait for him to wake up.

Once he does, I point my gun to his head and say, “You’re blessed that God made me a doctor and not a killer. You have two options. Leave and never try to steal again or stay here strapped to this table until you feel like trying option one.”

The man picks option one and promises never to leave again. I force him out of the house with my gun to his back and push him out the door when he gets to it. Now that he’s out of the door, I lock all my locks and keep my gun in my hands for the rest of the day just in case he comes back or if another robber comes in. Thieves, rapists, and murderers are common in this city and a handful of them have entered my house, which is why Josh gave me a handgun and trained me how to use it. Thankfully, I’ve been able to survive every attempt and after I defend myself, I always heal the intruder for some dumb reason according to me and my friends. Every time, I feel that I should kill the intruder almost wishing every time that my hands would slip and accidentally kill them. It’s never happened and I’ve let go of every intruder with only a couple of them coming back for revenge that were arrested by Josh afterward.

As I said to the last intruder, I’m a doctor and not a killer. Even though the temptation to kill always whispers to me when I’ve been wronged by criminals and the scum of the city, I’ve never done it, but it never stops bothering me. God, please help me never to kill and only to heal as you have made me a doctor and not an executioner, soldier, or officer. Looking up at the bloodied white snake coiled around a piece of wood that I have above my door, I remind myself of Jesus’ sacrifice and the various ways this represents His sacrifice. How He was perceived to be evil though He is sinless, how He willingly accepted our punishment for our sins, His immense suffering, and how He still hangs there ready to forgive even the worst of sinners. Offering up my suffering to Him has been another one of my ways of coping with my worries and misery.

Alright, now, I’m focused on my life’s purpose. Tomorrow comes and the rest of the week passes as if it were all contained in a single day because of all the patients I see and help. I also collaborate with other doctors on surgeries that require more than one doctor and ones that are easier with doctors around to keep the patient stable. After which, we congratulate and reward ourselves by splitting the pay and using the rest to go out to dinner in a better part of the city. It’s almost like we’re in a different city here with flying cars here and there, relatively clean streets, and a police presence every few blocks or so.

While eating at the restaurant we chose, we talk about how our lives have been going, notable events such as the intruder entering my house, and the struggles of being a doctor and being to make sure that we make it obvious that we don’t admit that we’re back alley doctors in public. Being a back alley doctor is illegal and we could be put in prison if anyone who wanted us in prison such as other doctors or people in the medical business who are losing business because of us find out and report us. This is why the only people who know of us are those we can trust or know someone we trust. Our close connections and underground network are also how we get the medical tech we need for surgeries and more particular procedures. In terms of medicine, we usually recommend natural solutions such as herbs and healthy living rather than giving them pills or injections. I’d say that our natural solutions are better than those in the medical industry since what they give out makes people sicker than healed. Call me a conspiracy theorist, but I think they do it so that people keep coming back for checkups more often than they would.

“You should stop picking people from the streets to help them,” one of my fellow doctors says.

What she says almost makes me choke on my food.

“What? Why?” I ask.

“Don’t act stupid. You already know why. Your life and work are at risk when you do it and don’t even get me started on healing the intruders.”

“Those people I find need help. Who’s going to help them if I don’t?”

“We can’t afford to take care of people who don’t pay and who may endanger our lives. They’d be better off dead.”

I get up, slap her, and say, “I’m a doctor! We’re doctors! We save lives, not abandon them!”

“Natasha, we know. It’s just that we have to be careful about who we care for. We can’t save everyone,” another doctor says.

For the rest of the dinner, the other doctors try bringing the good mood back to mixed results. When I get home, I immediately take a shower and hit the bed, especially since I have to help out at a homeless shelter tomorrow for extra pay. While I’m working and serving meals, I can’t help but think about what was said yesterday, especially when the poor and needy are picky with the food and supplies they receive. I’m tempted to tell them to leave if they don’t like it most days, but today I’m even more tempted to do so. The temptations bother me so much, in fact, that I don’t hear the sounds of fighting happening further in the building until everyone takes note of it and is moving to see what’s going on.

When I check out what’s happening with the others, I see a masked kidnapper trying to steal one of the women. Two other people are injured on the ground because of stab wounds presumably from the kidnapper’s knife that they still have in their hands that they point at everyone before bringing it to their hostage’s neck.

“Come any closer and she gets it next!” the kidnapper says.

No one moves. The kidnapper then takes away the woman out the door and into the alleyway. Even with them gone, no one does anything and just stands around and watches the door while we hear the woman’s muffled screams for help. This has happened before. People have been kidnapped in the morning, during the night, and sometimes during the midday like now. Every time it happens, the kidnapped person is never found. Occasionally, my imagination makes me hear the screams of the people who were kidnapped or at least that’s what I’d like to think. I can’t bear to think that I’m ignoring the screams of people who need help because I can’t do anything to help them and I can’t bear what’s happening now, so I run after this latest victim into the alley.

In the alley, I see the woman, her kidnapper, and two other people ready to put the woman into their car that’s parked on the sidewalk. For scenarios when I need to defend myself, I carry a small knife in my pockets, which I take out ready to use. It’s times like these that I wish concealed handguns were still legal in America. The kidnapper stops and threatens to cut the woman’s neck again, but I throw my knife at the kidnapper’s arm before they can say anything else. To my and the kidnapper’s surprise, the knife instead lands in the kidnapper’s neck making them let go of the woman who quickly runs behind me. I’ve taken throwing knife training for this exact scenario and I’ve somehow messed it up. Before I can even think of helping the kidnapper who is now clutching their bleeding throat, their two friends exit their car and run at me with their knives.

I pick up a nearby brick and throw it at one of the kidnappers who is knocked out once it hits their face. Quickly, I pick up the knife from the kidnapper I killed and dodge the attacks of the last kidnapper who swings their knife frantically and sloppily at me. They tire themselves out instantly because of the way they’re attacking allowing me to stab my knife into them, but I miss their gut because of the heat of the moment and end up stabbing the kidnapper in the chest, instantly killing them. People come out from behind me congratulating me for rescuing the woman, however, I’m in a panic because of what I’ve done.

“Get these people inside, especially the one with the head injury!” I say to them.

“Why should we help-”

“Because I’m a doctor, damn it!”

“Screw that!” one person says before taking the brick and caving in the kidnapper’s head in with it.

Livid, I start punching and screaming at the person. People have to pull me away from them and to be honest, I’m thankful they did because I would’ve done something I’d regret as if I don’t have enough to regret already. Sure, I’m glad I rescued the woman, but I killed two people. It’s a good thing that I’m working at a Catholic charity because I immediately go to a priest to confess what I did.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You defended an innocent life by putting your life on the line. What you did was justified even though you killed those two kidnappers because you did it in self-defense,” the priest says.

Even though I trust the priest and know that I’m justified, I don’t feel that way. I’m a doctor and I killed two people. That fact will bother me for the rest of my life. The once tempting feelings I had to kill are bitterly satisfied and have left me feeling empty. After washing up and sitting down for a bit, I’m told by the other workers that the bodies of the kidnappers will be taken care of and buried somewhere no one will find them. I’m congratulated by most of the people in the building and given a golden cross, a bottle of wine, a basket of food, and a bonus in my pay as a reward. Torn by my feelings, I thank them, leave the building since my work today is done, go home, put my gifts on the table, and crash on the couch. I’ve somehow gotten more than I wanted and still feel horrible. That’s life in this country for you.

Selfishness, Selflessness, and Sundays: Chapter 1 – Just Another Day

Chapter 1 – Just Another Day

An emergency patient enters my home. His friend called me earlier and gave me a heads up to prepare for him. After I remove the bullets, patch him up, and the patient wakes up, I pull up a chair next to him.

“Where am I?” he says.

“The basement of my house. Your friend took you here after you got shot. He’s upstairs waiting for you,” I say.

“Oh, that’s right. I guess that’s what I get for trying to get rid of corruption from the city.”

“That’s right. It’s why you should stop, keep your head down, and mouth shut about what you’ve been doing for a while if you want to stay alive.”

“I can’t because I can’t stand how corrupt this country has become.”

“Welcome to the club. Dozens of people have died and been put in prison for doing the same things you’re doing.”

“So? I’m going to make a difference and I don’t care if I have to die to do it.”

The man gets up, puts on his black jacket, brown shirt, and black cowboy hat, and puts his revolver in its holster.

“Suit yourself then. Take these pain pills with you before you go.”

“Thank you. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. It’s a favor for a friend. I’m friends with Josh’s wife.”

“What’s your name?”

“Natasha.”

“I’m Silas. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Natasha. I’ll find a way to pay you back one day.”

I nod in response knowing that mentioning that he won’t live to pay him back won’t make a difference. He’s just like the other people uselessly risking their lives to change the country. Once Josh and Silas leave and I clean up the operating room in my basement, I put on the TV and then look outside and can’t help but reflect on what America has become. I would’ve been a normal doctor if the medical colleges didn’t require doctors and nurses to be able to perform abortions. The culture of the medical field with its perverted and toxic practitioners and ridiculous costs of college also pushed me away from becoming an actual doctor so I learned what I could on my own and became a back alley doctor.

Working like this allows me to be the doctor I know God wants me to be without compromising my beliefs and helping people who can’t pay the expensive medical bills. Nowadays, jobs pay less than they usually did and medical insurance is still required, but the insurance can cut deeply into a person’s pay if they want the insurance to cover procedures and checkups without having to pay the rest out of pocket. Because of this, people get the lowest insurance and come to back alley doctors like me who won’t charge them an arm and leg. In fact, I may ask for some food and drinks in addition to my payment since the money I get sometimes isn’t enough to help me with the bills and upkeep of my medical tools, and tech. It's a struggle to buy groceries since they're so expensive as well. Sometimes, I’ll have to work part-time as a community service worker by cleaning houses, taking care of the elderly and injured, and doing other work like it at a homeless shelter. Other doctors may lower themselves to sinful kinds of work, but I refuse to do that no matter how desperate I may be.

Another depressing matter I have to keep in mind is the closing of the local church that I go to. Since the number of religious people going to church is on the decline, the diocese has been closing churches so that the ones that have more attendance can receive more funding to stay open. Because of that, I’ll have to take about a ten-minute walk there every Sunday, which doesn’t sound too bad but these streets aren’t exactly the safest. I want to believe that Silas and Josh will rid the country of corruption, but that’s just a fantasy since so many have failed. They’ve been making progress by getting rid of criminals in the usual underworld criminal sphere and corporate world, however, people are replaceable in today’s world and it doesn’t matter how many you arrest or kill. You’ll hardly make a difference.

Okay, I better stop thinking about depressing things. It’s bad for my health. While thinking, I’ve been rubbing my miraculous medal necklace without noticing as if I’m trying to squeeze out whatever blessings and miracles the Blessed Mother can give me. It’s a habit of mine. My prayers do give me a feeling of peace and the truth that I know does make me realize that I don’t suffer and work in vain. Still, I pray for more than a feeling and knowledge. What use are they if I can’t do anything with them?

There goes the useless depressing thoughts again. I better head out to the grocery store since I hardly have anything left. The trip there and the shopping is easy with nothing notable happening until I get the feeling to look down an alley of an apartment that I’m passing by. In the alley, I see what looks to be a human figure in a trash bag. Unable to help my curiosity and knowing what it probably is, I open the trash and see a scantily dressed woman in it. This apartment is probably a prostitution den judging by the woman’s clothes and condoms, porn magazines, and other clothes like hers in the trash. Somehow, the woman is still alive, but she won’t be for much longer if I don’t do anything to save her.

Part of me wants to forget I saw her while the stronger part of me wants to take care of her. Knowing it’d be wrong to leave her here, I wake her up and help her get to her feet. She’s hardly conscious but thankfully able to get on her feet and limp walk. At least I won’t have to carry her home. With my bags full of groceries in one arm and the woman leaning on me on the other side of me, we walk back to my house until three homeless-looking men and one woman stop us on our way there. They surround us and make it clear that they have knives and small guns in their pockets.

“What do you want?” I ask while already knowing.

“You can offer us one of two things and we’ll let you go. You can either give us your groceries or show us a good time. Take your pick,” the homeless woman says.

“Tch. Take the groceries.”

“Thank you for your charity.”

The homeless people forcefully take the groceries from me and then run off. Getting back on track, I take the woman back to my house and to the basement where I heal her wounds and take out the drugs from her system. She wakes up sometime later in a groggy state.

“Huh? Where am I?” she asks.

“You’re in my house. Don’t be afraid. I saved you from dying in the trash,” I say.

“Oh. Thank you. Wait, I was in the trash?”

“Yes, you were. People throw out men, women, and children like you in the trash once you don’t serve any purpose to them anymore assuming they don’t want to use your dead body for…other sick purposes. It’s the nature of the industry you work in, so I suggest leaving the city while they think you’re dead.”

“Where would I go?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere, and don’t even think about going back. I’ve done this before and ended up finding the same people I saved dead on the side of the road, in the trash, or found somewhere else that’s reported on the news because they chose to go back to their abusers.”

“I’m not sure if I should.”

“Trust me when I say that walking or rather running out of the city and finding anywhere else to live in is preferable than going back or staying here because if they find you, they’ll convince you to go back to them and then you’ll end up dead.”

“Hmm. I have to think about how I’m going to leave. Thank you again for saving me.”

The woman gets up and I watch her as she leaves the house and walks down the street. Sometime later, I see on the news that she was found dead not too far from where I found her. Idiot, both me and her, we’re both idiots. I feel like I should do something to get justice for the woman. There is calling the cops and letting them know about the prostitution den masquerading as a normal apartment building, but it’s possible or rather very likely that the police themselves frequent it and prostitution isn’t exactly illegal in this country even if children are the ones in it. Josh and his friend Silas are the only justice-focused cops that I know of. I’d ask them to help me out if they weren’t over their heads with their suicide mission.

Just like that, the cruelty of the present is making me depressed and livid at the same time while reminding me that there’s nothing I can do about it besides pray and hope that what happened today doesn’t happen as often. It’d be useless to hope that it doesn’t happen again given how the country is. I understand how people like Silas and Josh feel and I do hope they can manage to do a lot, but I know it’s a vain pursuit to make any real changes to the present situation. Well, I guess I shouldn’t be too upset. What happened today happens every day. It’s just been another normal day in America.

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Fr. Woo or better known as Fr. Death is a priest on a mission for justice for his loved ones that were murdered during the assassination attempt on his life. With his new nearly indestructible cybernetic body and God by his side, his path of vengeance will put him at the center of the fall of Old America and the rebirth of the new one with an important role to play in it.

Self-Proclaimed Gods and Saturdays: Chapter 4 – Dust to Dust

Chapter 4 – Dust to Dust

Androids have been deployed to get rid of the survivors of the airstrike. Despite most of the survivors being on the verge of dying, I still try to save as many as I can and tell the able survivors to save the dying while I continue forward. In the skies, I see the jets that bombed us and some kind of military aircraft that probably aided them.  I’m surprised that Old America even has these aircraft though I guess I shouldn’t be because I’ve never heard if they lost them. Continuing forward, I see androids setting up defensive iron walls to block off the streets. I hurry before the barriers can be set up in front of me, eliminate the androids, and continue further into the city. Here, I find supply trucks with heavy weaponry, one kind of which catches my attention. These are heavy automatic shotguns carried by juggernaut enforcers and are sometimes used like mounted turrets. Seeing as I need as much firepower as possible, I carry them on my back and take the ammo for them.

Further into the city, I see virtual billboards broadcasting the news on all of them. The citizens of the city gather to watch them concerned about what is happening. There are also some citizens who are trying to leave the city in either car or on foot with a lot of them being stopped by androids and enforcers that try to assure them that they’re safe or are questioning them to see if they’re revolutionaries. Even with everyone distracted by something, I keep to the shadows to avoid detection just to be safe.

“Do not fear, true citizens of America,” a well dressed man with cybernetics says on the news that echoes throughout the city, “The threat is eliminated and our androids and brave enforcers are cleaning up the rest of the trash. I’m sure you’re concerned about the airstrike that happened just outside your doors but be assured that few if any innocents were caught in the bombardment. We will create a monument for the lost lives of the innocents once this civil war is over.”

Pfft. Acting as if their bombardment was justified because they say hardly anyone innocent was caught in it. That’s what’s always made me mad about America and what led to its downfall. The degradation of morals and respect for God makes men think they can define what is good and evil and allow them to make excuse upon excuse for their sins. It’s also behind the thought process behind the androids. They thought they could create an AI that would be exactly like the human consciousness and soul, but they couldn’t make anything like it without using another person to keep it in check.

The design of the androids has been a thing that’s been bugging me that shows their true beliefs on what humanity is. Each android has the same non-expressive face on them and is only distinct by what they wear. Every one of them serves a singular purpose until they are eventually destroyed and replaced by a similar type of android. The corrupt see us like this without thinking about what makes us unique and human. Even in the end, they continue to talk on their big screens down to the public as if they have everything under control, that their enemies are evil, and they are righteous. It’s funny them calling us evil not because they’re wrong, but because they believe in the subjectivity of morality until it suits them.

Now that I’ve made my way to the towering communication station that stands like a huge sword in the ground, it’s time to end this. There aren’t as many guards around it as I thought probably because they’re told that the threat has been eliminated though there are quite a few of them left. Regardless of their numbers, I make my way toward them until someone in the shadows puts their hand on my shoulder.

“You’re Fr. Death, aren’t you?” the dirt-covered man with electronics on him says.

“I am. Who are you?” I ask.

“I’m with the resistance. Did Mr. Red and the others actually…”

“Yes, Mr. Red and most of the others are dead. I’m all that’s left as far as I know.”

“Damn those bastards! We’ll have to wait for backup until we can attack that communication station over there. I’ve been trying to hack it from here to cause some damage, but just like the other communication stations, it’s hard to hack. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised since this place is the source of the signal that keeps the androids going. I have a place where we can wait until then.”

“You do that. I’ll head in.”

“You’ll what? That’s suicide!”

“Maybe, but I think I’ll be able to disable the station by myself.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am sure. Look at me. I’m heavily armed and armored. Even if I have to die to accomplish this so that no more lives will be lost, I’ll do it.”

“I guess there’s no stopping you. I’ll try to get you back up as soon as I can. God be with you.”

“He always is,” I say while crossing myself and heading toward the entrance of the communication station.

I’m on a time limit, so I can’t afford to play this safe as if that were an option. Now that I’m out of the shadows and the chaos of the city is light here, the enforcers and androids finally notice me, but they don’t have enough time to react as I draw up my two large automatic shotguns and mow down all who stand in my path. I hardly bother with the backup that comes from behind me and instead focus on charging forward where I shoot open an entrance to the building and lay waste to everyone inside. More and more of the station’s guards come at me, however, I still push forward until I begin to realize that I’m running out of ammo. Once my automatic shotguns are empty, I pick up what I can from the bodies around me and use what I can as I continue to push forward through the tower and to an elevator that’s currently shut down.

A glance at the floors of the elevator shows me that there are many more floors down than there are above, which gives me the feeling that this station is powered and controlled from below rather than above. If my hunch is incorrect, then I could be wasting energy and bullets on this guess. Then again, why would they need so many floors in the underground if it weren’t needed? Perhaps I could find something valuable down there at the very least.

“Well, guess I have to do this the hard way,” I say.

With no better option in mind, I then open the top of the elevator, shoot the cables holding it, and brace myself as the elevator shoots all the way down to the very bottom. Surprisingly enough, I’m mostly fine except for an ache in my body that I have to walk off to make it go away. The floor I’m currently on is a production facility where androids are being made and armed at the same time forcing me to snap back into action. Since there’s a variety of weapons here, I find whatever explosives are here and go wild with them. I throw grenades, explode C4, and empty and use all the rockets to blow up everything around me to stop the constant production of androids and destroy them all. After the coast is clear, I take some new weapons with me, two heavy light machine guns and ammo for it before continuing down.

Here, I find people strapped to machines with tubes and wires in them all just like in the prison. There’s what looks to be a control room in the center of the room where a singular large android descends from. It has multiple faces and arms that have different guns on them.

“Impressive, priest,” it says. “You’ve fought your way here and survived every obstacle all by yourself. A small well armed militia would’ve taken casualties coming to this point, but you’re alive and well.”

“If you’re about to offer me to walk away or join your side, then you can forget about it,” I say before shooting the android to pieces. Soon after, another one pops out from the wall similar to the production facility above me.

“Who do you think you are? You’re no one, a random priest who’s only special because of a nearly indestructible body given to him and a seemingly insatiable bloodlust. What would your God think of you? Killing me and my copies will result in the people around us dying. Destroying the android army and remnants of the American army will give this country over to savage rebels. Is that what you want?”

“I only want to do what God wills me to do and if He wishes your destruction, then let His will be done through me.”

Without care for cover, I let loose my light machine guns in all the machines around me with one hand shooting the machines while the other shoots the copies androids as I’m being shot. The machines start exploding and collapsing around me one after the other until everything in the room is nothing more than broken machines and inactive androids. Somehow, I haven’t sustained serious damage despite being shot so many times. It’s probably because the androids lost their accuracy as the machines were being destroyed. The people who were strapped to the machines are all dead. God, please forgive me for not finding a better way to save their lives. I hope they can forgive me as well.

As I make my way back up, I see that all the androids are off and the building is vacant save for the enforcers who are currently fleeing. Once I make it to the surface after climbing many stairs, I see the jets and aircraft from before blow up in the sky. People are celebrating, embracing, kissing, and waving the American flag in the sky. A broadcast shows across the billboards of the rebels declaring this last state theirs and the other state that Roxy and her followers in fallen as well. The country finally belongs to its faithful people again. Thanks be to God.

To be honest, I do feel a little underappreciated for not getting a reward for my deeds, but if I deserve one, I’m sure God will make it happen. All I wanted was justice for my loved ones and I got it so I can’t complain. Speaking of God, it’s Saturday. It’s quite fitting that the week ends as the Old America dies. I better get to church to fulfill my obligation today or tomorrow and properly thank God for everything that He’s done for me. After which, I’ll head back home and go back to my sacred duties as a priest.

Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if I spent the rest of my life doing my priestly duties and never picking up a gun again. Speaking of which, I drop the guns I’m still carrying and take out my rosary that I pray on as I make my way back to my hearse. I’m confident that the future of our country and the world is bright. Today’s work has brought us out of the shadows of yesterday. God only knows what tomorrow and the next day will bring, but I know for a fact it will be good because every day is a gift to be treasured.

 

The End

Self-Proclaimed gods and Saturdays: Chapter 3 – Unrelenting Fervor

Chapter 3 – Unrelenting Fervor

A week passes with me and Mr. Red’s allies and friends sorting through the prison population to see who can and will fight with us and who should stay in prison. There are those who we free that don’t join the fight since they were put in jail for unjust reasons such as speaking against Old America. Others join as atonement for their crimes or do so to get back at Old America or to help us finish the fight and create a better nation. Finally, some just want an easy way out of prison and don’t actually want to fight and are legitimately imprisoned for crimes such as murder, rape, theft, and so on. These people we leave in prison. Those who we chose are given training by Mr. Red’s allies.

Speaking of him, he’s shared the information he’s learned with the rest of the country and it’s spread like wildfire. Enforcers and civilians from Old America have joined our side, the American Union has sent us more supplies and troops, and the information itself has caused havoc in this state. We are now more than ready for the upcoming fight. Mr. Red’s allies have graciously put bulletproof plating on my hearse allowing me to be the spearhead of the next attack that I want to be. People have even been calling my hearse the Holy Martyr because of it, which I don’t mind the name of. I don’t expect to live to see the end of this. Many will fight and die and if I can save some of them by blocking bullets with my own body, then I will.

Another week passes until Mr. Red and his backup finally arrive and presents his plan. Apparently, he already has forces attacking the towns around the capital to disable the communication stations and didn’t tell us knowing that I would drive ahead to help them. He’s right, but I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark. Anyways, the plan is simple. We’ll be split into different groups to take different ways to get to the capital with some groups heading straight there and others destroying the communication stations that stand between us and the capital so that Old America can’t activate their army of androids beyond the capital and the groups that are heading to the capital are given cover to get there. The second part of the plan is to blow up or disable the final station in the capital to bring an end to this civil war. Of course, I’m part of one of the groups going after the communication stations. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Any questions?” Mr. Red asks.

“Yes,” I say. “Are you done talking? Because I want to end this war once and for all.”

The others in the room agree and cheer with me while Mr. Red smiles and shakes his head.

“Yes, I’m done. Let’s take back our country for God, for our families, and for our future generations!” Mr. Red says to a room full of excited patriots.

We head out to our separate targets with people on the streets cheering us on. Once we have our first target in sight, we try to take down the communication station from a distance by firing a rocket at the antenna on top of the building, but the rocket is intercepted by shots coming from android snipers on the rooftops of the surrounding buildings of the town. This town we’re heading towards is a pseudo-military outpost that was once said to be a popular town before its inhabitants were kicked out due to the military’s lack of military bases and their need for them. As the spear of this charge, I and the trucks armed with turrets that are controlled by a passenger, take the brunt of the incoming fire. I drive through the defenses until I come to the communication station, step out with two assault rifles in each hand, and start firing at the enforcers and androids around me. Thanks to my cybernetics, I’m able to fire at more than one target without sacrificing accuracy so that each of my rifles is firing at different targets.

I leave myself vulnerable in the open so that all fire is concentrated on me while the others get out of their armored cars and trucks to join in the fight. We go up to the doors of the communication station, blow it up, and make our way through it. Again as the spear, I take a majority of the fire while firing back as my rifles tear through flesh, machine, and the walls around me as I empty drum magazine after magazine and wreck everything around me as if I were death itself. My nickname of Fr. Death really begins to sound more fitting than my actual one after I go walk back through what we’ve done once the communication station is shut down. The scope of how much death I’m dealing plus the damage done to me because of how much I choose to take doesn’t occur to me until we shut down a third communication station ten hours later. It’s as if I was possessed by righteous fury or an angel of death.

Mr. Red, who is in command of my group and in communication with the other group leaders, chooses to rest for a few hours to repair the damages done to the vehicles and feed and give rest to those who are still fighting. The unfortunate few casualties we’ve taken irritate me, to say the least, and the fact of the casualties happening pushes me to move forward as if the blood of the innocent, brave, and my deceased loved ones cry out for the deaths of the corrupt. As for the injured, some of them have been taken back to safe areas that are under our control. Some of the injured have taken stimulants and been patched up and still want to continue fighting despite their condition. There are only a few of these soldiers that are allowed to continue, however, the rest are sternly ordered to go back home and are told that they’ll die if they don’t or risk the lives of their friends by their subdued fighting ability.

“They’re inspired by you or at least are acting like you,” Mr. Red says to me as I repair my cybernetics.

“That’s true and I commend them for it. They should get more rest than I since they don’t have the same body as I do,” I say.

“You’re still human though. You may seem invincible, but that body of yours has its limits.”

“I know. I’ll try not to overdo it.”

“Ha! From what I’ve seen and heard, you already have twice over. All I ask is that you wait for us before you head out, okay?”

“Okay.”

So far, we’ve made a lot of progress today with our groups making it deep into the state. It’s only a matter of time before it falls. Thanks to the forces that have disabled the communication stations, a way has been cleared for our secondary forces to make it to the capital. The capital itself is heavily defended with hundreds of androids and enforcers attempting to keep the peace and quell the riots. Our friends are keeping their heads down while also causing trouble here and there and arming the masses. Since there seems no reason to worry, I try to sleep as best I can.

The past comes back in my dreams. Memories of teaching children and adults the theology of the Catholic faith and the truth it contains come rushing back along with the fun times of play and relaxation with those that were family and whom I called family. Then, the inevitable happens. They get shot, cut, crushed, blown up, or burn to death in front of me and no matter how hard I try to save them, there’s nothing I can do. Waking up from my nightmare, I get on my knees and pray for God’s help and advice. What should I do to prevent that from happening again? Is this a sign that I should head out ahead of everyone? Why did I survive when I was the primary target? These questions I constantly ask God and don’t feel like I’m coming close to an answer at all.

At the moment, I feel like I should leave, but I resist the feeling since it’s more of a temptation to martyr myself while killing as many of my enemies out of hatred rather than justice. Early in the morning when everyone is getting ready, I’m already locked and loaded. I’ve eaten already, said my morning prayers, and helping the others get on their feet and ready to go. We meet up with the rest of our forces just in time to protect the protestors and revolutionaries who are being shot at by enforcers and androids. With our numbers, we push back our enemies and send them running to the final communication station.

“They’re a bit too eager to retreat,” Mr. Red says before talking on a private radio station. He then hears something that widens his eyes. “We have to fall back! Get back! An airstrike is coming to flatten these streets!”

“Clear out!” I say and try to help.

Some people do as we say while others want to charge forward and do so.

“Stop being idiots! That airstrike will be here before we can make it to the station!” Mr. Red says.

“I’ll chase after them. You get everyone else to safety,” I say.

Before Mr. Red can argue with me, we hear and see jets fly over us and bomb the capital with explosives and firebombs. Chaos fills the streets as buildings fall around us. There’s no place to run except forward so I keep running until parts of a building fall on me causing me to black out for a few seconds. When I escape the rubble, I see nothing but horror around me as if I’ve gone back to the past. Mr. Red and his friends are dead along with everyone else who was with us. Those who aren’t dead are either burning alive soon to be dead or in such states of injury that they will soon die. Just like before, I’m the only one left who can continue on.

Why have you put me through this again, God? What have I done to deserve such punishments? What is the purpose behind my experiencing this? There’s no reason to sit here and do nothing about it. Justice needs to be served and the blood of the innocent cries out to me to be satisfied and Fr. Death will deliver.

Self-proclaimed god and Saturdays: Chapter 2 – Hunting Justice and Truth

Chapter 2 – Hunting Justice and Truth

As we sit down, the man who has heard of me takes a drink of water out of his canteen.

“Do you need anything to drink?” he asks.

“No, I’ve already had my fill. There’s a church near here that has a supply of it along with weapons. It’s also the reason I’m here because this map I found has this settlement circled,” I say while showing him the map. “There were enforcers there and I’ve also found handwritten orders to kidnap and assassinate certain people, which is information I assume will be useful to you.”

“It’s what we were looking for actually and what we need your help with. We’ve been wondering why Old America has been suddenly kidnapping people rather than focusing on getting supplies for their new robotic army.”

“Why don’t you focus on overthrowing the three remaining Old America states? I’m sure you can easily do that and foil this kidnapping plot in the process.”

“There are only two remaining Old America states left one of which will soon fall since Roxy, her family, and allies are focusing on it. Haven’t you been keeping up with the news while on your bloody quest for justice, Fr. Death?”

“Fr. Death?”

“That’s the nickname you’ve been given by the people who have witnessed your work.”

“Despite how much I don’t like it, I must admit it’s fitting. So, if there are only two states left and one’s likely to fall soon, then the last one that’s not too far a drive away from here is the last.”

“I know. After about ten years of civil war, Old America will die. I can’t believe I’ve managed to live through all of it.”

“Anyways, back to the point I was making. Can’t you get the help of the rogue states to take down the last state?”

“They’re doing their own thing for the most part. A couple are direct democracies that are fighting among themselves because what else would be the result of mob rule? The remaining are theocracies, monarchies, and democratic republics that act as if Old America doesn’t exist anymore and are now called the American Union of Independent States, or AUIS for short. They are essentially the new America with independent states that act in unison with similar laws and regulations decided by their chosen leaders.”

“They’re not giving you any aid whatsoever?”

“Hardly anything except for the citizens from those states that chose to fight or give us weapons, food, and supplies. Can you blame them? Old America has thrown its enforcers, its armies, and foreign soldiers at the American people and we’ve still overcome them all.”

“You’re right. I do feel the same as them. It’s just that I thought they would’ve given you more since the civil war is nearing its end.”

“And that’s why we need you Fr. Death, I mean Fr. Woo. The last state falling is an inevitability but someone still has to save the people getting kidnapped.”

“Okay. Point me in the right direction and I’ll go there by myself.”

“By yourself?”

“Yes. I don’t want anyone under my care getting hurt.”

“I understand given your past. I also know that you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself and making the right decisions so I’ll trust you on this. I’ll split up my squad; one to investigate why this location was circled and the second squad to take the supplies and intel from the church you were at. As for you, we have friends near the last state that need your help. I haven’t gotten their daily update so I’m concerned about them. They were scouting and spying on the goings on of the last state and said they were unto something big, so they may have been found out.”

“Alright. I’ll see what’s going on and report back to you. How should I contact you?”

“You should have a radio in your suit, right?”

“Oh, that’s right. I’ve never used it.”

“Not even to contact your folks back home?”

“I fear that if I do, it could be traced back to them.”

“I get it. My tune your radio to one hundred seventy-seven point seven and ask for Mr. Red. That’s my codename by the way.”

“Why Mr. Red? Because you’re wearing all red?”

“That’s right.”

“I’ll get going then.”

“Don’t you need to rest? You look like you’ve taken a beating after that last fight.”

“I have the repair tools in my hearse.”

“I mean besides your cybernetics. Your body still feels a bit of that beating, doesn’t it?”

“I’m fine. My cybernetics lessens the pain and keeps me going as long as I take care of it.”

“If you say so. Don’t push yourself.”

After Mr. Red gives me the location to go to and I make self-repairs to my cybernetics, I head out. As I get near the gates of the last state, I see that it’s guarded by a few guards and mostly androids that check the paperwork and ID cards of everyone who enters. The place I’m supposed to go to is not too far from this entrance so I park my hearse out of sight and further away and then walk the rest of the way. This settlement outside of the gates is fairly impoverished and has the scars of battle on it with broken streets, buildings, bullet casings on the floor, and dried blood stains here and there. Hardly anyone is outside doing anything save for the open clothing stores, food markets, and other stores that sell miscellaneous items.

Making it to the location that is marked with the colors of the American flag around its doorframe, I enter the building to see that it’s ransacked like the other homes around here. I search through the home and find a not so hidden staircase behind a broken bookcase. Going down the staircase, I find remnants of a gunfight but no bodies. The blood on the floor is fairly fresh so this must’ve happened recently.

When I report this back to Mr. Red, he says, “I figured that would happen. They were on to something and the enforcers must’ve caught on to them.”

“I’ll investigate this further. If the fight happened recently, the enforcers couldn’t have gotten too far,” I say.

“Be careful and don’t get too ahead of yourself. Give me a ring when you find out more.”

“Will do.”

In this basement, I find another way out that leads outside. There’s no sign trace of anything out here, but there are people so I ask them if they know anything. A lot of people say they either don’t know anything or don’t want to talk to me. Eventually, I find a couple of homeless people that say that two trucks of enforcers and their androids killed most of the people in the building I was in and took their bodies and the few injured left passed the gates and into the last state. I thank them and give them enough to buy them something to eat and drink before heading in the direction they told me to go.

Going near the gates, I use my cybernetics eyes to look for an easy way in and some kind of enforcer-held building where I might find out more. Sure enough, I see one some distance away from the gates that look to be a communications center because of the communications antenna on top of it. As far as an easy entrance goes, there are parts of the gates that are sparsely guarded by androids. Once I make my plan, I enact it by going to the least guarded part of the gates, rip a hole in it with my cybernetic arms, go through the hole, and put back the ripped out part of the gate as best I can so that it looks as if it was never damaged.

This side of the fence is like the other except the buildings are slightly less damaged and dirtied and there are more people outside. While keeping to the shadows, I make it the communications center. It’s defended entirely by androids with no human in sight inside and outside of the building. After scouting a bit, I find that a back grated window that gives me an entrance into the basement is the best. I break it open thanks to the superhuman strength that my cybernetics have given me. The inside of the building is also staffed by androids that are doing basic bookkeeping tasks. They all have guns on them so these organizers must also be doubling as security.

Further into the building, I find only three humans. One of which is a janitor, another is an android technician doing a checkup on one of the androids, and the last one seems to be a supervisor given how well dressed she is. This supervisor is probably my best bet in finding Mr. Red’s kidnapped men. I drop my silenced pistol outside of the door to grab the attention of one of them as I wait outside of the door ready to take hostage the one who takes the bait. For some reason, they choose to send the android. That’s fine with me. Once the android comes near, I punch its head off, grab the silenced pistol, and point it at all three of them while entering the small repair room. The supervisor attempts to call the androids to help them, but I stop her by putting a bullet through her hand. She falls to the ground in pain and the other two fall to the ground with their hands up asking what I want.

“A group of enforcers and androids murdered and kidnapped some people on the other side of the gates. Tell me where they went,” I demand.

Kneeling with her bloodied hands up, the supervisor says, “I-I’ve only seen one truck of enforcers and androids head through her recently. If they went anywhere, they probably went to the prison that’s about five blocks away from here. I swear I don’t know anything about what they were doing or why they took the people you’re looking for!”

“Thank you. Forget you saw me or you’ll end up like that android.”

The three of them agree and then I leave them. You know what? I might as well cause some damage while I’m here just in case those people raise the alarm. People from Old America aren’t known to be trustworthy because most of them don’t fear God. Going back through the basement, I find a generator and systems that seem to be powering this building so I tear it apart with my hands until the power goes off. An android catches me in the act as the lights go off and for some reason, it turns off. When I go outside, I find that all the androids outside of the building and those that were patrolling the streets have also turned off. This is strange. I’ve never heard of the androids shutting down because of a communications center shutdown, but then again, I haven’t been listening to much of the news recently.

I’ll have to ask Mr. Red later about it. Anyways, I head to the prison to find the androids here shut down as well, which makes it easy for me to head in. The handful of human guards here are in a panic because of the android shutdown. Using the chaos as a cover, I make my way through the prison, pull open barred doors with my hands, and follow the directions on the walls to make it to the warden’s office. The warden is calling his technicians to fix the android problem and based on his angry and confused responses, I’m assuming his technicians know as much as he does. I walk inside the room, pick up the warden by the throat, hold him outside of the window that overlooks the entire prison, and ask him about the people I’m looking for.

“The basement. They’re in the basement,” he says in a choked voice.

After thanking the warden and throwing him out the window, I make my way downstairs. Despite my display of making an example of the warden, most of the guards don’t bother attacking me. Instead, a majority of them have left the prison and those who try shooting me follow them, especially after seeing what I look like and that their bullets don’t really affect me making this a cakewalk for me. After breaking through the many barred doors that stand in my way, I find a bunch of dead people hooked up to offline machines. They have tubes and wires going in and out of their bodies and faces and they don’t have any limbs. Further inside, I find more people that are starved and beaten sharing a cell with dead bodies that appear to have been shot, cut up, or beaten to death.

After breaking apart their barred doors, I ask them, “Do any of you know Mr. Red?”

“Yes! Oh, thank God he sent you to find us,” one of them says. “We would’ve ended up like those people in the machines if you didn’t.”

“Let’s get you out of here and you can explain to me and Mr. Red what you found.”

The group and I leave the prison and head to one of their safehouses in this town where they treat their wounded, sick, and feed the hungry. We turn on the communications device they have so Mr. Red can chime in. I update him on the situation and what’s happened including the shutdown of the communications center causing the shutdown of the androids and the people connected to machines in the depths of the prison’s basement.

“First of all, I’d like to thank you for finding my friends, Fr. Woo,” Mr. Red says. “Secondly, I told you not to get ahead of yourself and to call me when you found out more.”

“I’ve done what you set me out to do. I’ve found your friends and gotten back to you with more information, haven’t I?”

“Tch, they should call you Fr. Smart Ass. Regardless, I’m glad to see that you’re alive and have managed to save some of my friends.”

“I’m not as glad that we were able to save our informants and agents that got captured. The things that were done to them were inhuman,” one of Mr. Red’s friends says.

“We’ll get justice for them soon enough. What have you found?”

“The machines that the people were attached to at the prison were ones that connect them to a network that controls all of the androids.”

“Really? I thought they were all controlled by some kind of advanced AI,” I say.

“It’s the truth. They were going to condition or rather torture and break our minds and make us part of that network. The network itself is controlled by an AI, but the human minds add a layer of correction and creative decision making that the AI can’t. In addition, every server like the one at the prison is controlled by human operators that ‘take care’ of the humans in the machine and make sure the systems are working properly and that the androids are fulfilling their given orders. If the unwilling controller doesn’t do as they are told, the AI or the human operator causes them immense pain and does some nasty things to their brains to make them compliant.”

“The first versions of the androids did have humans in them to serve a similar purpose and exploded once their systems failed to hide the evidence of the human inside,” Mr. Red says. “I’m surprised they’re trying to do it again. I’m just not sure which way is worse.”

“Doesn’t matter. This atrocity needs to be stopped.”

“Agreed and it’s a good thing we know their Achilles’ heel. Getting rid of the communication stations will automatically shut down the androids in the vicinity.”

“That’s assuming we can shut them down. The communication stations are more heavily defended as you get closer to the capital which we’re sure is where the originator of the AI signal is that communicates to the other stations.”

“Then that’s where we’re headed next. I’ll relay this news to all our allies and formulate a plan to enact it. Oh, and make sure the good priest doesn’t go off on his own again.”

“You expect me to just sit here while people’s wills are being forcefully manipulated?” I ask. “Just knowing this information makes me imagine what they would’ve done to the people I loved and it makes me sick.”

“Calm yourself, father. If you’re going to do anything, then do something about the prisoners that you left in the prison. See if they’ll fight with us. We’ll need all the help we can get in this final push to take back America from the corrupt.”

“I can go in by myself to soften up the enforcers and androids.”

“You’ll do better for us if you don’t martyr yourself. One man throwing himself at an army isn’t going to help much even with your cybernetics.”

“Fine.”

“Good to hear that you agree. Talk to you soon.”