Chapter Nine here as the first book starts to come to a close. Only one more chapter after this (which is likely to be a two-parter). In an act to gain some religion, Silvia and Em-Aych are confronted with a new threat, as their world continues to stumble into madness. It's plain to see after too long, there likely is no salvation except in their actions. Putting the finishing touches on Chapter 10 and should have that out before too long. Then its adding, editing, and ideally, as some point, producing.
Until then, Yours Always,
Teej
Unholy Ground
"‘If a man has a stubborn and rebellious son who does not obey his father and mother and will not listen to them when they discipline him, his father and mother shall take hold of him and bring him to the elders at the gate of his town. They shall say to the elders, ‘This son of ours is stubborn and rebellious. He will not obey us. He is a profligate and a drunkard.’ Then all the men of his town shall stone him to death.’ To question ones elders is to question God, and might you dare question The Lord? I ask of you; who among us doubts the divinity of The Lord? May he be cast out from us, less he lead us astray.”
Em-Aych held an embittered look of contempt which he could no longer conceal. It didn’t help that they failed to blend in right from the get. Heads turned as soon as they entered; despite trying their best to go unnoticed. They appeared outlandish and foreign to the congregation. He might as well have kept the hat on. Having made the effort to ‘dress up’ and running a comb through his typically unkempt hair, he had the image of what you might call ‘normal.’ How he loathed it so.
Silvia, likewise, at his side wore a conservative, blue dress, feigning the presence of a couple. It proved to no avail as well. Though it failed to hold any concept of the tamest definition of flirtatious, a scarlet letter upon her chest. A new level of chaste was her competition, which left the word ‘harlot’ in the minds of all that passed.
“We must never challenge the will of our Lord; we may never betray The Lord; betrayal brought the death of Christ; betrayal is an act of the damned. May we need reminder that ‘The LORD, OUR LORD, is a jealous God, filled with vengeance and wrath. He takes revenge on all who oppose him and furiously destroys his enemies! The LORD is slow to get angry, but his power is great, and he never lets the guilty go unpunished. He displays his power in the whirlwind and the storm. The billowing clouds are the dust beneath his feet. At his command the oceans and rivers dry up, the lush pastures of Bashan and Carmel fade, and the green forests of Lebanon wilt. In his presence the mountains quake, and the hills melt away; the earth trembles, and its people are destroyed. Who can stand before his fierce anger? Who can survive his burning fury? His rage blazes forth like fire, and the mountains crumble to dust in his presence. The LORD is good. When trouble comes, he is a strong refuge. And he knows everyone who trusts in him. But he sweeps away his enemies in an overwhelming flood. He pursues his foes into the darkness of night.’”
Blood surged through Em-Aych’s veins. His tolerance had been exceeded. Silvia placed her hand on his shoulder before he could leap up to make a scene. ‘It’s not worth it,’ she whispered. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but he restrained himself. She was just as infuriated, but managed a smile. Wanting proof, Em-Aych had promised her that much prior to any conflict.
A grand struggle, they suffered through the rest of the sermon without interruption. Like cattle, they shuffled to the reception barring refreshments outside; just one last prayer begging for the salvation from our ‘sinful’ world.
The exchange of superficial gossip and homemade bake goods took place as glad-handers waltzed around, rifling for newcomers. A starving Silvia was found scarfing down a few scones, cursing her reluctant nature to eat beforehand. Looks of disapproval responded to this action, but she failed to care. Her expectation of the length of the service was exceeded by at least an hour and a half.
Snatching her arm, Em-Aych yanked her out of sight of an usher just in time. Ducking behind a bend, the gathering would be the only distraction they’d need. Having previously surveyed the floor plan, Em-Aych checked to see if the coast was clear, then directed her downstairs.
The cheery nature of the church had long since left with the descent to the basement. A pep was present in his step as if claiming the eeriness of the hall signified something was amiss. Having only artificial light to guide them, they’d occasionally flicker, but proved nothing to the still skeptical Silvia. The way she saw it, they were only guilty of hubris, ignorance, and perhaps bigotry, which didn’t seem atypical for such an institution.
It was by luck that the halls were vacant during this time as Em-Aych continued down the corridors. Pausing in front of an unmarked door, he withdrew a lockpick from his sleeve and proceeded in forcing it ajar.
“What are you doing?! We’re definitely bound to get caught now. You saw the way they were eyeing us before.”
“Just this one, then we’ll go. I was lookin’ at the blueprints Sil. Something is off. I’m telling you.”
“I followed you this far,” she sighed. “Just fucking hurry.” The whole thing made her nervous.
Inside, it was pitch black, but with the flick of a switch, all was reviled. A wave of disappointment slashed at his expression. A small private library stood midst the fluorescent lighting. It was polished to a mere sheen and not a thing appeared out of place; save a worn pocket bible resting on an extravagant coffee table. The green carpet traveled to the dark wooden bookshelves which lined each wall, providing a particularly dull and archaic image.
“Fuck off; this ain’t right,” he exclaimed.
Silvia shook her head, watching as he began to pace the room, inspecting the shelves.
“Don’t touch anything; they’ll know we were here.”
“This is wrong, this is.”
“All they’re doing is spreading fear and being…creepy. Can we go?”
“Something’s not right.”
“You had a feeling and you got it—“
“No, this room was bigger on the plans.”
Silvia laughed. “What, you want to check for secret compartments?”
With a light shove, he pressed against the case; consequently sliding open. He peeked inside and then turned back to her.
“You’re going to feel like a bitch now,” he beamed.
Silvia chased after to find what was hidden beyond. Locked behind a layer of bars sat a respectable arsenal of weaponry. The pale light gleamed off the barrels, reflecting the reasonable assumption that they’ve remained untouched. A few rifles were among a couple submachine guns and a handful of handguns. The copious amounts of ammunition was unnerving though.
“Well?”
She was relatively unfazed. “This doesn’t prove anything.”
“It’s a fuckin’ arsenal in the basement of a bloody Church!”
“Em-Aych, they’re conservative dickheads, of course there might be a few guns. They don’t look worn though and there’s a chance they’re legal.”
He started to groan; not the reaction he had in mind and now growing restless. “If they were all good and legal what are they fucking doing here behind a bookshelf, yeah?”
“I’m not putting it out of my mind, but we need something more concrete before we start knocking down doors like this.”
“You and your logic.”
“We need to get back upstairs anyhow. Someone is bound to notice we’re missing.”
This was true. In a moment of dismay, they covered their tracks and dashed back only to be confronted on the stairs. A firm, skeptical looking man greeted them in a pastel polo and condescending tone.
“Well you two, what were you doing down there?”
Em-Aych frowned, then, in an almost mocking diction, “My apologies, I didn’t realize it was customary to announce one’s visit to the washroom to the collective.”
“They happen to be located just down that hall. You could’ve just asked.”
“But what’d be the fun in that?” He tried to smile, but the man was not amused.
“Just ask next time. And who might you be?”
“Richard Chasterson, and this is Helga Ch-“
“Miss Helga Chasterson.” She shot him an annoyed look.
“Davis, Mitchel Davis.” He held his hand out in a cold gesture, shook, and departed down the staircase.
“Pardon me, as Mitchel Davis, I’m far too important to deal with the like of you.” Ensuring he was out of earshot, Em-Aych openly mocked the pompous ass. Silvia giggled as they mingled back to the reception.
Silvia helped herself to another scone, which prompted conversation with an exhausted looking housewife; catching her mid chew.
“My, a healthy appetite you have. I’m Martha Swanson, that’s my husband, Mark, over there.” She proudly pointed to a muscular looking gentleman by the window, socializing with a number of other men over coffee. Em-Aych took the hint and made his way over. “Now I’m fairly certain I’ve never seen you and your…”
“Whitney; and that’d be my boyfriend over there, Chet.”
“First timers then, I knew it. Well, how’d you enjoy the service?”
Choice words passed through her mind, but she kept them to herself. She wanted to protest the negative, close minded, and hate evenly sprinkled throughout the tortuous sermon, but said not a word of it. Instead words like ‘interesting’ and ‘different’ passed through her lips.
“Reverend Mathew is quite moving with his words, I know. I consider us blessed to have such a powerful local speaker. Depending on which church you’re coming from, you might not be used to… I mean, especially for you…”
Silvia was completely puzzled by what she might be referring to and slightly horrified by her take on…everything. “Wait, what about me?”
“It’s just that we aren’t used to seeing other ethnicities joining our services.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You happen to be the first ‘Asian’ member of our little community,” she exclaimed with a superficial smile.
She was dumbfounded. By taking a look around, the truth surfaced. Only compared to the congregation would this be noticeable, and it wasn’t until Martha mentioned it that Silvia noticed that everyone was entirely white. She imagined their response if Sean had happened to join them. Searching for Em-Aych, she spied him, sharing a similar expression.
“I don’t suppose it’d be too much to meet Mathew, seeing as it’s our first time and…”
Martha’s smile faded. “The Reverend Mathew isn’t available after his sermons; he requires rest and concentration in order to be prepared for afternoon services.”
“I didn’t know; sorry.”
Resetting her smile, she left Silvia at the table. Gesturing to Em-Aych, he excused himself from the increasingly dull conversation.
“Those twats are dead inside. Christ, I can’t take this much longer.”
Silvia smirked. “If it means anything, I’m’ growing increasingly suspicious. Did you hear anything about Mathew? I got scolded for asking to meet him.”
“Seems like a right miserable little fuc— and good morning to you too.”
They lowered their voices. “Let’s just find him, get an idea and get out of here. Any ideas?”
“Find by me. Upstairs I’d figure.”
Exiting the crowed lobby once again, they disappeared from the gathering up the steady incline. It didn’t match the basement in any manner. Windows, stained glass, and religious paraphernalia decorated and celebrated the corridor which, in the cleanliness and lighting, appeared to glow in an unnatural way.
Without warning, a weeping female rounded the corner in a sprint towards the duo. Her dress was in tatters and a heavy sweat had set in. She must’ve only been fifteen. Paying them no attention, she was startled when they came into sight and ran smack into Em-Aych. Unsure of what course of action to take and observing she was on the brink of screaming, he cupped her mouth, hoping to avoid detection. A look of uncertainty turned to Silvia. The pitiful female was mad with terror. Catching her attention Silvia neared speaking calm, direct, and soft with each word.
“Listen, we mean you no harm. We’re here to help. We can’t have you cause a scene though. Please understand. He’s going to uncover your mouth now.” She nodded to Em-Aych who released her. “Breathe.”
She did, and attempted to speak behind profuse tears. “He— I— Then he just— I couldn’t do anything. They’re gonna—“ It was all she could get out before the look of horror returned. She merely collapses, staring and pointing behind them.
They turned around to see two large, stern looking fellows peering over their shoulders to view the mess of a girl. She tried to scream, but not a word surfaced. Silvia and Em-Aych exchanged glaces, when the thugs went to grab the couple they knew what they had to do.
Ducking a large, strong hand, Silvia turned to plant an elbow in his side. Meanwhile, Em-Aych used leverage from springing up the wall and came down with great fury. The two guards collided together, now forced back to back. Simultaneously they were forced defend against an invasion of jabs.
In an effort to take charge of the brawl, one of the thugs snatched Silvia in his grip, slowly squeezing the life from her. She kicked and squirmed, but her efforts were meager compared to his size.
Em-Aych, in an act of valour, barreled into the man opposing him, causing him to stumble backwards into his ally. The two were forced forward into the wall. To evade being squished, Silvia ascended, still in his grasps, up the wall, rising above their heads. Once they crashed, his strangle slackened, and she was freed.
Flipping headfirst, she sent a foot in the face of her foe and landed with the upmost of grace. Seeing to it that she was uninjured, Em-Aych delivered a series of kicks to the off-balance enemies. Blood was drawn. With a counter swipe, he was forced backwards, causing him to recoil. Now they were angry.
Silvia approached, dodging a punch and dancing around their movements. They had power, but speed and dexterity was lacking in both. A few steps with fancy footwork tripped up one enough to have Em-Aych tabletop one over the other. Silvia then brought her weight down on one of their skulls, knocking him completely unconscious.
With one down and the other scrambling to his feet, it didn’t take much to finish them off. Em-Aych swooped at his feet and Silvia brought in an elbow just before he swung around to kick the bastard in the face and sending him packing.
The damsel in distress remained crumpled on the floor, cowering in fear still. She’d be safe, but they required some form of direction. Examining each path and archway in search of their target, it wasn’t until they came across a particularly lavish door that they paused.
‘May the devil and those that may lead us astray be cast out and damned, for only the Lord will provide the path.’
It was carved amongst various decorations and imagery which indicated that this must’ve been the place. Voices could be heard from inside and the two prepared themselves. Their guide, too petrified to inch any closer, quivered behind the corner; watching them. Em-Aych counted down on his fingers and breeched the gap.
The Reverend was indeed inside. Still dressed in his robes, he held a young girl down, bent over, on top of a desk. Thrusting with intent, the poor female’s only response was a dazed and malaise look with an occasional mumbled cry. She omitted every sign of being drugged and consequently was rendered helpless. The only hope she could hold was that she wouldn’t remember. Feverishly he’d been at work, though jumped and broke his concentration as the door busted open.
“I told you to wait outside! Did you even find t— Who are you? How dare you enter this chamber unannounced. What do you think you’re doing? And where are my gatekeepers?!”
“What the fuck do you think YOU’RE doing?”
The man of god leapt to his desk, clearing what appeared to be a number of pharmaceuticals and tranquilizers. Fumbling with one of the drawers, Em-Aych launched himself over the desk and caved in his chest cavity. He stumbled backwards, desperately gasping for air. Em-Aych watched the show from a seated position atop the desk.
Silvia went to assist the inebriated female which proved useless as she collapsed on the ground. She turned her attention to the scene happening above. Em-Aych began his inquiries.
“So Mathew, we’re a bit new to the church and its general practices. Would you mind telling me and my beautiful— Alright, I lied, she’s not my fiancée. What must I do to repent?”
He struggled with vocalizing still.
“Can we expect this same kind of topnotch service in the confessional? Maybe not the whole personal experience as we can expect here, but a least a glory-hole?” He laughed.
“They aren’t a Catholic congregation.”
He turned back. “I didn’t say he was getting on with little boys.”
“Catholics are the ones with confessionals.”
“Learned something new!”
Mathew broke his silence. “What do you punks want, money? Have you no understanding and respect that this is a house of God?!”
“You think this is about money? What ignorance processes you to give you a notion of benevolence?”
“Aye, and if this is a ‘house of god’, can I start calling these ‘fists of judgment’?”
Even in emanate danger, he continued his soapbox; ignoring their statements and banter. “Your actions may not go unpunished. He sees all that is wicked in your ways.”
What were they to make of this? Silvia considered the possibility that The Reverend saw no evil in his action. Caught red handed and the judgment was then placed on them.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Contempt enraged her.
“How dare you speak to me you harlot; you jezebel! You shall speak when spoken to.”
She couldn’t hold it in any longer. Whatever his deal was, it didn’t matter. To preach anger, hate, and oppression under the guise of peace and understanding to a select few served just as much danger, if not more, than any violent action. It was then that the reality surfaced.
It felt as if a boulder bashed her skull as a spontaneous fist appeared from nowhere. Falling forward, Silvia caught herself and tumbled into a roll. Spinning around, she caught the return of the ‘gatekeepers’ looking rather ragged, but standing ever so furious.
Em-Aych ducked behind the desk, narrowly escaping a chair soaring over his head. Jumping to his feet, he scrambled to his foe. Kicking a chair onward, the oaf lifted it above his head with the intension of beating him with it. This proved folly when Em-Aych performed a roundhouse kick to his torso. Down came the seat upon his cranium.
The Reverend took this distraction as an opportunity to withdraw the pistol from the drawer he’d attempted earlier. Equipped with a silencer, he mercilessly shot his sexual release in the head at point blank; then aimed for Silvia.
Diving in front of the desk, the bullet was wedged in the hardwood flooring. She had to maneuver backwards immediately to avoid the curb stomp of one of her pursuers. Bonding back with a few attacks of her own, the thug merely absorbed each without concern. He swiped again, testing the strength of the desk as he missed.
Em-Aych distracted Silvia’s assailant by kicking him in the rear. His attention now diverted, she gained a greater height by placing a foot on the desk, then, leapt towards him. Her knees leading, her shins landed on either shoulders, and, using her palms, shattered either side of his temples. Disoriented, she rode the crumbling figure to the ground.
Recognizing he was outmatched, Reverend Mathew deserted the room during the tussle; taking off down the hall. Silvia and Em-Aych staggered out in pursuit, dodging another two shots that he managed to fire back. Around the corner a scream erupted before cutting to abrupt silence. As they chased by, they came to realize the second witness to the madness lay dead in the hall. Any promise of keeping her safe now broken. Her eyes left cold, dead, and open as a trail of blood ran from her forehead. Limps folded and contorted, splatter of red echoed on the white wall she rested against. The rest of her face was still caught in that moment of horror, seeing her attacker one last time before everything abruptly ended. It wasn’t much to philosophize who’d be given credit for the creation of this scenario.
Mathew flew down the stairs like a bat out of hell while Em-Aych stopped at the foot. Accomplices, witnesses, civilians, they waited anxiously below and their appearance would be all too welcomed. He shot her a worried look; she understood.
Silvia acted prior to giving it a second thought. A side table carrying a candlestick occupied the corridor which she effortlessly chucked out the window. Clearing the glass, the sloped roof of the first story had the potential to catch them.
“Brilliant!” He exclaimed as she climbed through.
Taking a deep breath, she flew across, tumbled down the roof which dropped to the cement, landing with a roll. It was a graceful transition that minimized impact. Following her example, Em-Aych matched her movement, landing at her side.
Just up the street they could make out Mathew getting in a black vehicle and speeding off. There was no chance of catching up now. Sprinting in the other direction, they tore down half a dozen blocks, until they were comfortable with the distance.
“That turned way too quickly. What the hell is going on?”
Em-Aych shook his head. “I dunno, but they’re definitely up to something more. Told ya Sil, there was something wrong about that place. Did you see the way he took off?”
She was still in mild disbelief. “What are we supposed to do now?”
“Keep an eye out, ask around, wait for them to fuck up. One things for certain; this isn’t over for a long shot.”
No comments:
Post a Comment