Divine Right

A priest takes the word of God into his own hands. Sinners face his merciless wrath.

Divine Right

By Gabrielle Esposito

               The metallic smell of blood was crisp on the air of the room. The carpet was saturated with it, and every time the man walked, he felt the warm liquid ooze out to find comfort in between his toes.

There was a sort of electricity crackling high above him. Only he could see and

hear it, because he was the only chosen one. A smile made his lips curl upwards. The gesture would have felt strange if it was for anything aside from his master. The man reveled in the heavy scent of death, breathed in deeply, and looked to the sky.

           “All for you,” he whispered. Love was glowing in his eyes as he spoke. “This is all for you, for you are all that I am.” He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking deeply and loving the feel of the wet floor beneath him.

               A whimper cut through the stillness of the room, followed by a soft moan. Pierce opened his eyes. All warmth he had felt drained from his body, leaving him cold and inhuman. He turned away from the blaring brightness of the stars towards the girl who sat before him.

               Her body was battered, bruised and bloody, but her cries were full of vivid, morbid color. Fat tears rolled down her face. She had cried so hard that they had managed the task of creating jagged tracks in the blood that had dried on her body. She bent her head, and Pierce watched her shoulders shake. The chains that bound her rattled fiercely with her every motion. She looked up at him, her eyes red.

               “Please,” she said. Her speech was broken by another volley of sobs. “You have to let me go, I can’t take anymore.”

               Pierce choked back a laugh, and instead settled for a small smile. He stepped closer to her, and the girl screamed.

               Such power I have, he thought when she began to thrash about as he gained ground on her. All because I chose him, and he chose me. A simple decision.

               He leaned in towards the girl and she screamed. Pierce hit her. He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his lips when the sound of flesh hitting his hand rang out. He grabbed her jaw and pulled her close to him. She peered out at him with eyes that were only half alive. It wouldn’t be long until they were completely vacant. A little cut here and there, and all fight would go out of her. Another sacrifice completed for the one he worshipped.

               “What makes you think that I have to let you go?” said Pierce.

        The girl didn’t answer him. It infuriated him that he couldn’t draw some sort of reaction out of her. He ached for her screams. He wanted it.

Pierce drew his hand back and let it fly into her body until she begged him to

stop. The palm of his hand began to burn and ache from slapping her, but it was hot rage that kept him going. It was the clapping of flesh that rang through the air that fed his desire to hurt her. She screamed until her throat was ragged and her lungs ached. And when she could no longer make a sound, her mouth still yawned with an awful silent moan that spoke volumes. The chair she was chained to tilted back and fell to the floor. She hit her skull against the ground, and Pierce thought he could hear a crack.

               No, not long at all until she was gone.

               He righted her chair, and she bit her lips until they bled trying to hold back her tears.

               “Answer me,” he said. She opened her mouth, trying to speak. While she fumbled with her words like a stupid child, Pierce admired his work. Her teeth had been one of the first things to go. Her smile had been her weapon. She had used it too many times to her advantage. Pierce could only hope that through his work, she understood her mistakes. He had explained it to her as he ripped out molar and canine. But he doubted she had really heard him and understood.

               “You�"you don’t really want to kill me,” she said. Her words sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than she was him. This time, Pierce didn’t bother to hold back his cruel judgement. He laughed in her face, long, loud and harsh.

               “Does every bruise on your body not convince you that I mean to do you harm?” he said. She began to cry again, but she kept her weeping silent. “Do you not understand that you are the problem here? All that you have done in your life has led to this moment.”

               She shook her head, but even that effort was too much for her. He could see her pale under the influence of her ailments. Her body was giving up on her.

               A few more minutes at the most. Pierce was almost giddy.

               “I only cheated on my husband because I loved him,” she whispered.

               “And I only kill you because He told me to,” said Pierce. “He came down in a beam of white light and told me to kill the evil doer. And you, fornicator, temptress, adulterer, are just that.” Pierce straightened, rising to his full height. His stately six foot five frame towered over the cowering girl.

               She shook her head and look away.

               “You are just a priest. You could have never known anything about love,” she said.

               Pierce blinked. It took him a moment to register her words. They seemed to move towards him as if they were molasses dripping out of a jar. But when they reached his ears and his brain took hold of them, his vision turned red. He stared at her in fury, the entire world turning into a blur. He grabbed the knife with the rusted blade and moved in to hold it to her throat. And then he paused. He smiled. Setting down the knife, he grabbed the phone that sat on the table with his other instruments of torture. He moved across the scalpels and saws and over to the woman in the chair. She looked down at it with amazement.

               “What�"what the f**k is that for?”

               “I want you to make a call,” he said. “I want you to talk to your husband. I want you to tell him what you did.”

               She started to tell him that she wouldn’t, could never tell him that, but she quieted when Pierce held the knife to her throat once again. With shaking bleeding hands, the woman picked up the phone. She dialed it with her only remaining finger. The bloody stumps were nothing more than small phantoms on her hands that were no doubt burning her like hell as they itched while they tried to heal themselves.

               It took only one long ring until the phone was picked up. At the sound of the voice on the other line, the woman laughed weakly and smiled.

               “Andy? Hi, it’s me,” she said. A flood of noise came from the phone. Pierce held the knife tighter to her throat, reminding her of what she had to do.

               “I�"hold on. I need to tell you something,” she said. “I�"about four months ago I�"“ The woman fell silent before him. Her eyes were blank, and her hand dropped the phone. Pierce rolled his eyes and picked it up.

               “Hello, is this Mr. Garcia speaking?” he said.

               “Who the f**k is this? Do you have my wife?” came the voice. Pierce loved the malice in it. “If you hurt her, I swear to god I’ll tear you to pieces myself!”

               “Please, sir, be civil, I just have a simple statement followed by a question.”

               “Do you think this is a sick f*****g game? Who in f*****g hell do you think you are?”

               “Just one thing before you lose your head, sir,” said Pierce. “I assume you know that your wife has been cheating on you with a man you’re quite fond of. I believe he goes by the name of Buddy Williams. You know him, don’t you sir?”

               Silence on the other line. And then the cold tone of a man struggling to fight off the part of him that knew Pierce’s words were true.

    “You’re lying,” said Garcia. “You’re a f*****g piece of s**t! You have no idea who she is! She would never--”

    “Then where has she been all those night when you came home and she wasn’t in your bed?” asked Pierce. “I’m doing the world a favor. You should thank me, really, you should. Not only do I hurt the unfaithful, but I rid the world of all sinners. The gays, children born out of wedlock and their parents, thieves, criminals. All of them have no place in this world.”

    “You’re a psycho,” he said. “You should kill yourself for what you’re doing.”

    “I am helping the world. We’ve become too lenient. Wedding vows mean nothing. We no longer have basic principles of society. It is now acceptable to marry someone of the same sex. Once the world strays from religion, they fall. Look at the Roman Empire,” said Pierce. “They died because they turned their backs on order. And I promise to end this chaos.”

Pierce turned away from the shouting woman who was now trying to take the phone of his hands and failing miserably.

               “So now I have a question for you, Mr. Garcia, and I ask this with the confidence that you know your wife is one of the vile adulterers I so despise. Does your heart ache? Is it breaking as you swallow the fact that she has been sleeping with this other man?” The man said nothing, but Pierce could hear his breathing. He continued on, excitement mounting in his body.

“After the pain and wrong she has caused you, should she not suffer as you do

now? Should she not have her soul removed from her body and dragged down to hell by the inevitable demons that have been standing by her since I have begun this torture?”

               The sound on nothing on the line was like a void that Pierce found himself slowly becoming consumed in. He could feel sick obsession over how the man was taking the news beginning to grow within him. He wanted to hear that voice one last time. A few more agonizing seconds passed. No answer, no agreement or resentment passed through the man’s lips. His wife was now in Pierce’s hands.

               “Have a nice day, Mr. Garcia.”

               The knife in his hand loved the taste of her blood.

Author's Note

Please feel free to leave any comments you feel necessary. All criticism is accepted. I have thick skin, so feel free to speak your mind. That is the only way I will grow as a writer. Thank you :)

Reviews

[Gabrielle Esposito]

Aw thank you! That means a lot coming from someone as talented as yourself!

[Inject Positivity]

Well im reading a future writer here....You have a very unique style of writing, i know writing varies from writer to writer but i found yours to be much more unique.....Beautifully portrayed work, lovely descriptions and im very much overwhelemed by the characters and concept.....As always full ratings!!!!!