The C. Force Database The R. Force Database The Webmasters and Affiliates The Complete Guide Linkage Fox's Blog Ren's Blog Fox's Artwork Ren's Written Stuff

Aftermath

‘What you are doing is wrong.’

“No.”

She sat there, in the dark and filth of a sidestreet.

‘It is not what He wants.’

“It is. He told me.”

She sat there, with her legs curled up to her chin, and her arms wrapped around her knees. Ashen muck crawled around her, the combination of a burning home and the failed attempt of heroes sworn to duty...

‘It is Sin.’

“No, it’s not. It can’t be.”

She sat there, crying her tired eyes out, bloodshot from the crying of before. It ran through her head again and again. She refused to accept it. She didn’t want to. And yet...

Jessye had met Him while purifying two men trading some kind of powder in an alley. Both of them had caused many deaths with it. Overdoses, that was the method was called. Direct or not, they were still responsible. They stilled sinned, so it was only necessary that they be forgiven. The first was easy; she caught them by surprise, and he did not have time to resist. That’s when He came.

He said that she was killing them.

She said that was not true. If they died, then that was God’s Will. She had no say in who died and who didn’t.

He said that was not what He wanted. He said He would show her what He wanted.

She shook her head in pity. Blasphemer, heretic, lunatic... Such a pity. He needed to be forgiven for the ridiculous claims He made.

Then He made those claims into reality.

He showed her what He wanted. He told her that she had been striking down sinners indeed, but that she was not offering them forgiveness. He showed her how many had died because of her. He said that she did have a say in who lived and who didn’t, as she was the one who was killing them.

At first, she refused to accept it. She didn’t accept it. She kept holding onto what she believed. Then came the worst for anyone who believed in a cause; she began to doubt.

It trickled into her mind for just a second, the notion that she was doing something wrong, that she was killing all those people. She began to see their faces pass through her head, all of them with blood trickling from their mouths, with empty looks in their eyes, not seeing at all and peering into something that was far far away. It made her dizzy. She dropped Penance, and nearly fell...

And He caught her in His arms. He embraced her, and He wouldn’t let go.

“What you are doing is wrong.”

No!

She felt like she was being smothered, but He was not holding that tightly. She began to struggle, hitting Him as hard as she could, to no avail. She began to cry.

“It is not what He wants.”

“But He... He told me...”

She had begun to cry just like the little girl she was supposed to be...

“It is Sin.”

No! It’s... it’s not ...p...l...e...a...s...e...”

...just like someone who had been lied to all of their lives, only to learn the truth in the humiliation of being truly wrong.

She finally broke free, and ran away.

She hadn’t noticed that He had been crying right along with her.

He had tried to heal her, show her what was wrong, tell her that she was still loved all the same and could still be forgiven... but something stopped Him. There was something inside of her, something that refused to let go. Was she just that stubborn? Maybe. Was there something else at work? Perhaps. He had not gotten far enough. If she hadn’t run away, she could’ve made that final realization.... But He knew that there would be a great amount of pain once she finally learned what that realization was.... He had tried to heal her, and He had failed. But He had gotten very close. Too close.

Close enough so that now she sat alone in a filthy sidestreet, letting the grime and oil and mud stain her dress, letting the tears flow in burning streams down her face, letting the torment turn into a dim realization that maybe He was right. That maybe, just maybe, what she was doing was sin. Sin to correct sin, now that was truly damning.

Then again, He could be lying.

Maybe He was just using some fancy mind tricks to deceive her, a mentalist or an illusionist or something like that.

Yes, that had to be it. God had told her what her mission was, and God didn’t lie.

For the first time in her entire life, she felt relieved. She began to laugh through her tears.

She stood up, and wiped the tears out of her eyes. Her dress was stained with muck from her spot on the ground; time to get it cleaned. She smiled, not a complacent smile like she usually wore, but a happy smile.

She was right. He was wrong. It was that simple.

It began to rain when Jessye headed back towards the alley she dropped Penance.

She found somewhere to sleep for the night after getting Penance back. She had not slept in days. She said a small prayer before climbing onto that battered mattress, the sole survivor of a household that went up in flames just days before, that one remaining relic of not just a two-story house and a white picket fence, but a family of a husband, a wife, two daughters, a son, and three cats.

Maybe it is of note. Maybe it is not. She certainly did not know this. But she prayed for them anyways, those poor souls that had attempted to flee from one blinding light, one that burned and caused them to suffer greatly in the last few moments of their lives, only to be coaxed and welcomed with open arms into another, one that made them forget all of the suffering that had to go through to get there.

But she did not pray for them as she should’ve. On the contrary, she prayed for all of the living, that they may be forgiven at her hands, so that they may all be welcomed into that great light that they would all eventually find themselves facing...

Tomorrow was another day.



Written by Ren
Start - 05/16/2002
End - Under twenty hours.

This story was inspired by Jessye’s bout with ‘Who is as He’, an interpretation of what seems to be the Archangel Michael. Someone decided to play matchmaker, and thought it would be an interesting idea to have the two go at it, seeing as how they’re essentially after the same thing. It’s just that they have *cough* radically different methods. Who is as He is the real deal, meantime, Jessye, well...

...i’ll have to get back to you on that one...

Back home with you...
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The C. Force  © 1996-2002 Matt Laskowski   ---   The R. Force and other assorted crap © 1995-2002 Ren