Writer: Timothy Dumont Jr.
Co-writer: Crystal Ferguson

Thursday, November 24, 2011

210: The Church of Guilt -Andrew-

The inside of the church was elegantly furnished. The windows had curtains of black and red striped velvet, and the carpet was a deep shade of purple.

"Please, if you don't mind taking off your shoes before you walk in." Sister Victoria turned and looked at me, "God doesn't like her floors getting dirty."

I knelt down and slipped off my shoes, "So you think God is a she?" I was trying to make small talk. Something about this place didn't feel right, it felt . . . familiar.

"I know she is. Right now she's out, but soon she'll be back." Sister Victoria motioned for me to follow, "Please come and sit with the other Sisters."

The hallway opened up into a massive room with a high ceiling, too high for it to be the same building I'd seen outside. I was right, something was off about this place. It was bigger on the inside.

"I'm sorry, I just realized that there's something I need to do." I turned to leave, but was stopped when I saw who was standing in the hallway. I couldn't move my feet. My palms grew sweaty and I began to shake uncontrollably. She walked over to me and ruffled my hair, her hand warm and comforting. Her touch made me feel the happiest I had been in a long time, but when she stopped I couldn't stay standing because of the power of the returning emotions.

She knelt down to look at my face, our noses almost touching, "Aw, you remember me. That's sweet."

She patted my head as she stood up. My vomit from the assaulting emotions would stain her rug. I felt a warmth flow from down my thigh and wasn't sure what it was until I realized that I'd wet myself.

"Victoria? Please, stand him up." Her voice wasn't as sweet as it had been. It was all business and anger.

I felt Sister Victoria's hands lift me to my feet, "Yes, ma'am."

Through blurry eyes I watched her turn and wait until I was standing on my own. I reached up and wiped my eyes.

"Indigo." I growled.

She smiled cutely, "Oh wow, you even remember my name! This is getting better and better."

"How could I forget? You trapped away the parts of me I cared for the most. All because Patrick told you to."

"Patrick never made me do anything. He is searching for something and I am doing my best to help him find it. That's what you do for people you love." She grinned, "What am I saying? You wouldn't understand, you sacrificed your wife and child's memories just to feel better."

I was quiet because she was right. I had done that, it was all my fault because I was weak.

"Please, don't be angry at me. We had some good times, I thought we were friends." She pouted, "Oh well, I didn't bring you here to chat. This is business. I need you to do something for me."

"Why would I do anything for you?"

She motioned to the sisters who were standing in a circle around me, "For one, you won't make it out of here alive. My sisters are incredibly obedient, all they need is the word. Also, if you happen to get out anyway, then rest assured that what you've gotten back will be gone in seconds. You'll go back to the family slaughtering fiend you once were."

She walked over to me and frowned, "So here's what you're going to do, you know those people you just met? The ones who were with your dear, departed friend Vincent? There were two brothers, a tall one and a not so tall one. A long time ago, we met and they had the most delicious guilt, but they were after my head. I had them right where I needed them to be. They're pain was exquisite . . . but then the small one did something unexpected. His will was . . . like something I'd never felt from a human before. He broke free and stole something of mine, rendering him and any of his direct blood relations unaffected by my charms." She stomped her foot, "That stupid, little, rotten . . . he is why I'm even here, I have much more important things to do. I saw his brother on the television and the small one isn't ever far behind."

"So you want me to steal it?" I frowned, "You do know that they HUNT your kind? They've killed a God right in front of my eyes. I hear that just the small one alone stood against 20 or so zombies and survived. Also, judging from the news, I think Patrick poked one of their buttons too much. Going against their band of misfits is not just stupid, it's retarded."

"I don't want you to steal it back. I don't care about it anymore. I want you to kill the brothers and, while it's touching that you're worried about me, I won't be the one doing it. You will, and you know all about them."

"No. I won't do as you ask. They have an incredible warlock, and even a clairvoyant. Do it yourself and see for yourself. I go in there looking to kill some of their crew and I'll be wiped out. They already hate me."

She touched my chin, making my knees crumple when she removed her fingers, "Oh Andrew, did you think I was asking? No, no . . . I didn't even say please."

"Please, you're killing me."

"I'm commanding you, kill the brothers and if you feel like being on my good side, then you'll bring back what they stole. If you can't . . . "

She smiled a devilish smile, "Then I'll ask the other you instead."

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