God is Fear

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
One raised through a world of religious experiences how God is truly used from one follower to another.

Submitted: November 26, 2019

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Submitted: November 21, 2019

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I don’t believe in God. That said, I needed Him now more than ever. 

 

I remember when I was younger, my mother used to take me to church to straighten my spine. I didn’t believe in the Lord once I came out of her womb. My priest would take me around the chapel and point at the nightingales hiding in the trees, 

 

“They sound beautiful, wouldn’t you agree boy?” He asked. 

 

“They do indeed Father, but how does this prove He exists?” 

 

Beside them the birds of the heavens dwell; they sing among the branches.” 

 

“Psalm 104:12, is everything from the Bible true?” 

 

“Science can prove their theories; we can only prove our faith. Tell you what, if you ever find proof that God doesn’t exist, you come back here and strip me of my title.” 

 

It may have been twenty years since that day but once I escape, the first thing I will do is strangle that priest and make him choke on his own lies. My train of murderous thoughts come to a halt just like the truck I’m riding in. Several hands shove and force me out of the vehicle, causing me to stumble on some sort of dirt path. Maybe I would understand my dire situation if a blindfold and tight rope were not in the way. The chilly breeze gave away the identity of the night. Curious crows began chatting around me as they spectated the incoming event, I can only imagine them sitting on abandoned rooftops and peering at me. They could be questioning why I’m in their territory, that’s a question only the Captain can answer, in fact, the chill sprinting down my spine indicated she was already near. The smell of an exotic flower and burning incense filled my nostrils, enough to clear out the stench of my filthy rags. Her slick voice flowed like a calm river, 

 

“My my, three naughty citizens. Expel your sins with your voice. You. Speak.” 

 

Her seductive voice was coming from my right, I opened my mouth before a frail lady answered her command. Creaks and dry gasps came from her ghastly voice, 

 

“I stole herbs from the practitioners to cure my---” 

 

The Warden made a sharp sound, like an alarm buzzing to indicate the confession was done incorrectly. She clapped her hands and the sounds of struggling resulted in someone falling to the dirt. I heard people quietly walk around me, making sure I had no exits to make a run for it. I realized that these were elite soldiers, completely hollow souls that lived only for the entertainment of brutality and torture. I could hear faint crying coming from the ground. Old age and a vile disease were enough to soften bones hence a simple shove was all that was required to break the old lady's body. I heard the Warden step onto something, applying force which led to some bones cracking inwards at a slow pace. She continued again, 

 

“Dear elder, you may be twice my age yet you never had to release your hardships?” 

 

“Miss Syrena, I never snapped rules of the law before.” 

 

“Or maybe you never got caught before, have you ever considered that? Expel. Your. Sins.” 

 

The trauma was horrifying for the elder, I could feel the dread resonating in the air like the occasional ringing from my ears. The crying became louder as the smell became mixed with an unpleasant odor. The old lady relieved herself.  

 

“G-Greed. I am a mistress of Greed. I was caught stealing herbs from the practitioners for my s-selfish desires. Forgive me and c-cleanse me of my sin.” 

 

She said as she planted her face in the dirt, hoping she could suffocate herself and end the torture prematurely. The Captain sighed and released her foot’s grip on the elder. Her voice covered itself with a veil of hollow empathy, 

 

“Very well, since this is your first crime after a life of purity, I will allow you some mercy.” 

 

The Captain’s footsteps came closer to me as she snapped her fingers. The old lady sniffled and started laughing, her mind was obviously destroyed from the pain. 

 

“Thank you Miss. May He bless you with---” 

 

An echoing gunshot silenced her voice and scared off the flock of crows, the sounds of their wings flapping away faded out of existence, squawking over each other. 

 

Forget God, even the birds of Death want no part of this act. 

 

Her body made a loud thud as it collapsed into the dirt. The sounds of it being dragged away and thrown made it seem like she was tumbling into a nearby ditch. I carefully heard the Captain’s heels digging into the dirt. The sounds of someone breathing heavily came from my left. At first, I thought it was indecipherable murmuring but I made out the same words I would hear as a child. Judging by the voice, it was a young boy frantically relying on the strength from the Bible. She seemed to walk past me, her footsteps now to the left of where I was standing. I could her hear intense breath but could not feel it brush against my face, she was facing the young boy. 

 

“Younglings always tend to have the strongest faith. What’s your name child?” 

 

Bestokein. M-My name is Bestokein. My family and friends call me Besto.” 

 

“But your family and friends aren’t here. What should I call you? Vermin? Worthless?” 

 

She mocked the boy in front of his face, her laughter was known as a bad omen amongst us peasants. The sinister joking seemed to warp my perception of time, a few more moments of their conversation passed by my head with little to no effect, perhaps my body was just waiting to die. The boy’s confession than began with her word, 

 

“Now that introductions are out of the way, please expel your sins.” 

 

“Lust. I...I just hugged a girl.” 

 

“Hugged a girl? Do you really believe I would torture people for silly crimes? Try again. Who was this girl exactly?” 

 

The boy was hesitating, there was something he was afraid to tell, something that could prove she was onto something. Like a final attempt to swim away from the sea of despair, the young lad answered with detail, 

 

“She was the youngest daughter of a noble. I was begging on the street for days, needed a coin to fetch myself some bread. I was overjoyed when she donated more than needed so I hugged her. She had no problem with my embrace once she donated me alms, it was her father that---” 

 

“That knew you were planning to defile her rose. Pollinate her orchid against her will.” 

 

“No! That’s not true! Why would I do such a terrible thing?” 

 

“The purpose of rot is to infest and destroy the pure. You are no different from the fungi beneath my heel. You wouldn’t be hiding the details if you truly believed nothing was wrong with what you did. Expel your sins.” 

 

“But I...” 

 

“You had more than ample time to argue your case. Expel.” 

 

I heard the child coughing up thick mucus from their throat before spitting it like a feeble projectile, the faintest of smiles vanished from my face as quickly as it appeared. Syrena stepped back as she ordered her men to hold the boy down. A loud pop and crunch were heard before the boy wailed with pain. For the next few minutes, I heard his bones shatter three more times, possibly for each remaining limb he had. Her stern voice made it through the mess of the child’s screams and entered my ears, 

 

“Throw him into the ditch as well. The crows, flies and maggots will have a feast till dawn. God gifted us a tongue to eat and savor the fruit of our labor. If the boy rather chooses the path of lust over enjoying some bread, so be it. Rip it out.” 

 

The sounds of the boy begging for death became inaudible, loud bellows that questioned my curiosity, did they really rip out his tongue? My fear was given a satisfying answer as a fleshy and wet object danced on my feet before landing somewhere unknown. Finally, her footsteps came to me and I no longer cared about where the boy was, chances were I was probably going to end up right next to him anyways. 

 

“Greed and Lust...what else must I punish?” 

 

“Envy.” I muttered. 

 

“It’s only been a few seconds and I already like you. Speak your name.” 

 

“A name isn't important unless the person themself is important. I am a sinner. I am the servant of envy. Punish me.” 

 

“Very true. You speak of your sin as if it was a badge of honor, do you not fear God?” 

 

“I don’t believe in His existence. I think people created Him to spread fear.” 

 

She chuckled at my statement. Soon, my eyes were finally free of the darkness it was forced to see. The sky was just a blanket of darkness above the dirt road I was standing on. Around us were cornfields with a few crows perched on top of several scarecrows, maybe they came back to watch me die. Soldiers surrounded me with a truck nearby but I paid no mind to their presence. Instead, my eyes were fixated on the beautiful woman in front of me. Long white hair was tied by a red ribbon, giving room to her freckled cheeks within pale skin. Her green eyes were mesmerizing with the pink smile that gave a deceptive sense of comfort. She wore a heavy jacket given to all Captains, ripped pantyhose that exposed some parts of her elegant legs alongside the heels I guessed correctly. She placed her frigid hands above and below my head and whispered, 

 

“Who do you envy?” 

 

“I...envy you. I’ve committed crimes to become like you. Killed my parents when I saw them boast about their religious pride, murdered the homeless that refused to serve our society, even killed my younger sister when she constantly got into brawls for fun.” 

 

“Pride, sloth and wrath can all be cured with death but envy is a sin that only satisfaction can fix. Killing you will only bring it back in another lifetime.” 

 

Soldiers behind me untied the rope digging into my wrists and pushed me onto all fours. I looked up and I saw Syrena offering me her hand, offering me a new life. She questioned my purpose, 

 

“Would you take someone else’s life if it satisfied your own?” 

 

“Yes. Without a doubt.” 

 

“Wonderful, I welcome you on your journey of divine absolution. We have a wagon of sinful children to take care of down the road.” 

 

She assisted me to the truck but my eyes were still fixed on her. Perhaps everyone in her crew was afflicted with envy, a sin no one can really cure with death. After enough attention from my gaze, she rolled her eyes as she watched the last soldier hop into the back of the truck, 

 

“Boy, you better not think of me as a goddess.” 

 

“No Ma’am, the fear of committing a sin, the fear of being shamed, the fear of being punished by a holy force, everything always falls back to the concept of fear. God is fear. We’re just doing His work.” 

 

“Amen.” She said. 


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