Darkroom Saga Omnibus 1

by Poppet

  Alpha walks to his huge chair, sitting down next to Victor's wife. I can't get used to her being Seth's. She is Victor's redeemed angel, not Seth's. Seth didn't earn her, Vengeance did.

  Victor was the angel of vengeance, and I miss him the way I'd miss the left hemisphere of my brain. It's debilitating, especially at gatherings like this.

  God clears his throat, speaking to the fallen, “Seth, does your pregnant wife know what you do at work?”

  Seth drops to his knees, kneeling before the Lord, “No father.”

  Alpha looks at her, five months swollen with child. That should have been Victor's baby, but she lost his fetus when I murdered him.

  This is all my fault.

  Shauna, forgive me for your hardship. I'm sorry sister.

  “He cuts babies out of their mothers. He pulls babies out of the womb with a hooked needle. You lie down at night with a murderer, a man who butchers infants for profit.”

  Shauna slaps her hand over her mouth, looking at Seth, shaking her head. Deep blue eyes blister with tears and she looks down, hiding her distress behind long hair the shade of cocoa.

  You can't fault her. She doesn't speak, she isn't worthy. Not in God's presence, she daren't.

  Swallowing thickly, dread pumping sludge through my veins, I stand at the ready, wishing today was the good day I was hoping it would be. Now the sun has been blotted from my soul and I am engulfed with the fetid atmosphere of infidelity.

  Alpha stares at Seth, and I watch the interaction with heavy limbs. Doom is clustering across my brow, in my armpits, down my spine.

  Seth looks like Victor; and both sons look like their father. I can't do this. I can't.

  When Victor vanished, Alpha renamed him Christ, because Christ is the hidden name for the Lord of chaos. Victor's death caused chaos amongst us, it threw me into a deep depression where I lived in a state of suspension, existing from manna seed to manna seed, hour to hour, shakes and aches. God took me under his wing, forcing me back to the path of righteousness. It hurt, it was merciless, but salvation is its own reward.

  How do I choose between my adopted father and my brother?

  Alpha leans forward, bunching muscles covered in tattoos. I've seen him without the leather uniform. I was raised in his house, and I was Victor's first chosen disciple. God has barely an inch of uncovered skin. He tattoos our names on himself, of every one redeemed, and he has the entire collection of holy sigils from The Lost Book Of Moses on his skin. He is a walking testament of power, he summons and vanquishes just by manipulating the occult sigils etched into his skin.

  Both shoulders hold his mighty symbols, the alpha and omega. He is the beginning, and we fulfill his end.

  I'm afraid of what he is about to do. I'm downright terrified.

  “Seth, my disciples have a gift for you,” he snaps with the clarity of a military commander, his ire evident, displeasure distorting his face in a spiteful grimace.

  Peter, my least favorite of my brethren, moves to the rear, dragging by the foot a bound woman. She is gagged, blindfolded, and pregnant. Depositing the package in front of Seth, he moves back to his position. God reaches behind his ebon chair, pulling out a doctor's bag and throwing it at Seth, ordering, “Show Shauna what you do to women.”

  Seth's sweating, his hands shaking. Blinking rapidly, he shakes his head, “She is too pregnant. The baby could survive if we have an incubator. This is not what I do, father.”

  Alpha sits back, folding his arms, glowering. “Then enlighten me, Seth. I thought I knew every move in creation, yet inside heaven angels turn on angels and Satan betrays his father.”

  Visibly trembling, Seth says, “While they look on helplessly, their babies will be battered to death, their houses will be looted, and their wives raped. Isaiah 13:16. Alpha, they are all foreigners, and I do my duty when I cut them open and loot their houses. I empty their wombs, and then I remove every egg. Women are born with a finite number of eggs, and because they sin against you I make them barren. They may blame the abortion, call it karma punishing them, but it is your will which takes away their ability to carry life. When they choose to take what is yours, I sacrifice the child to you, and I desecrate the temple they used to insult your laws.”

  Bowing his head, tears streaming down his stubbled cheeks, he says hoarse and gruff, “It is better than vanity. This is a better way to punish sinners. It is a better way to root out the evil in the nation.” His voice drops to a mumble, “They will kill your children. Yes, they will take your sons and daughters from you and burn them alive, Ezekiel 23:25,”

  Batting my neurotic focus between God and Seth, it's like everyone is holding their breath, even the victim at Seth's knees.

  “I gave you a command, Seth. Show Shauna how you worship me. Show her how you earn profit from sin.”

  “Father please,” he pleads, bowing low, prostrating himself, “My wife does not belong in this heavenly court. It is an abomination.”

  Shauna stares at him as if he just cut her heart out, a portrait of grief painted in anguish. Alpha takes her hand in his, squeezing it, offering silent comfort, and it surprises me to witness this compassion.

  “Seth, I won't tell you again. I want you to show me what my son does behind his father's back.”

  Having seismic tremors, Seth submits, unclipping the bag, pulling out his equipment, pausing to stare up at father. “What is her sin?”

  Alpha bellows, rage finally taking control, “Do it!”

  I have been one of the chosen for nineteen years, and I have never hurt a pregnant woman. It's what we strive for, to plant the seed of redemption in them. God is life, every firstborn belongs to him, we all know that. He created all life, and it is not ours to take unless he sanctioned it personally. Young women who sleep with a different man every other weekend, who dress provocatively, they may not charge for their prostitution, but it's still whoredom. It is out of wedlock, and it's our role to redeem them.

  You are a special kind of prostitute. No one forced you to become one. You didn't get paid, you paid them. Ezekiel I will put a stop to immorality, as a warning to every woman Ezekiel 23:48.

  That kind of betrayal angers God. We know our boundaries. When a woman is with child, she is his alone. When he lets us marry her, then she is ours.

  Keeping my eyes riveted to Seth's feet so I do not witness this blasphemy, I wait, listening to sounds which freeze my marrow and give me tears.

  Seth's voice is strong and proud, “You commanded the firstborn sacrifice. You put to death the firstborn of your enemies. You made Abram light the fire to prove his loyalty to you, taking his only son to be the altar. This is yours father, but I have no fire to offer it to you.”

  Looking up, I can't read God's expression. His lips are pursed so tight they are white, his eyes shriveled in the way they do when he is furious.

  “You offer to me something I already own? Why would I want what is already mine?”

  Seth falters, his bloodied hands lowering with the still living child, still sustained by its mother and the umbilical cord.

  Fuck! I did not need to see this shit. In all of my days I would have died happy never seeing this.

  “Alpha, I remind you of your own law. In Exodus 22 you said if a pregnant woman loses the child because of a man, or men fighting, but she herself is otherwise unharmed, the only penalty to those who ended the life of her fetus - is a fine. You gave them laws that made them sacrifice their own babies Ezekiel 20:26. You told mothers they'd eat their own babies and the afterbirth because you are angry with them. You condoned human sacrifice and cannibalism Deuteronomy 28: 57 / Ezekiel 5:10. Parents will eat their children, and children will eat their parents ezekiel 5:10. And you said when you are angry with their disobedience against you, pregnant women will be cut open and their babies dashed to the ground! Hosea 13:16 Why do you persecute me for doing your will? You condone abortion of those who sin against you. I at least make sure they die for you, that you reclaim them, and that the sinne
rs cannot repeat the offense. Abortion is in your holy book, Father. Sanctioned by you, ordered by you, condoned by you. Eating children is in it too. You said it would be their punishment, and I am punishing sinners in your stead.”

  Shauna's eyes are boggling, and she's fighting back a retch, defensively clutching the unborn inside her.

  God launches out of his chair to shout down at Seth, “If you do this to worship me, to show that you are true and faithful, yet don't let God know to whom you offer your sacrifice, then to which god are you sacrificing babies? You don't glorify my name when you do this!”

  “I do! The smell of burnt offerings pleases you! You said it again and again and again! I am your priest and it's my fucking duty to sacrifice these babies to you!”

  With wild eyes, black with fury, Alpha glares down at Seth, “Your mother Evelyn, she broke my heart. You are not my son, you never were. But I kept you, raised you, fed you, and this is how you repay me? Prove you love me then, prove you do this all for me. Cut open your wife and offer me your firstborn son.”

  Waves of horror wash through me, making me sway unsteadily.

  If Seth does this, he will be damned. He will be doomed. I'll kill him before he can make that incision.

  Shauna's silence breaks, the wail of desperation so visceral, she just damned us all. She makes to bail, when Peter erupts, breaking rank to shove her back down, holding her down by the neck. If Victor was here now, you'd already be dead, brother.

  In a state of sordid disbelief, I watch as Peter manhandles a resurrected angel, a good and obedient woman, down to the filthy floor, forcing her to her knees before her 'husband', making her sanctified flesh unclean with blood from a corpse.

  I don't think; faster than my logic I yank out my SIG, aim, and fire.

  ~ Chapter 22 ~

  “Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared.

  This day is holy to our Lord.

  Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

  ~Nehemiah 8:9-11

  66: Evan:

  My stomach growls like my throat’s been cut. That pizza and coke should have satisfied my appetite for days, but my body suddenly hungers for more. I feel like I slept for a fortnight. I have pure water to drink. A clean place to shit. Hot water to bathe.

  I never knew futons to be so comfortable.

  If John’s god provided this, he’s got ulterior motives. But John? I think he genuinely believes that god is rewarding us, blessing us.

  But if his god thinks I’m a true prophet and a reformed man, he's not the fucking all knowing, all seeing god this bible of his describes. But then he fucked up back in the book too. It's right there at the beginning where anyone can see it. The Lord was chatting to that Abraham lunatic, and said, 'There are terrible accusations about Sodom and Gomorrah, and their sin is very great. I must go down to find out whether or not the accusations which I have heard are true Genesis 18:20'. So the 'Lord' is one fallible fucker, who seems way too human. Maybe John's 'god' is his descendent. He's as limited as the rest of us, that's for sure. He has to physically see things like a human, he's not omniscient.

  This is my first role as an actor, but I intend to play it to the max.

  The silence bothers me. I expected to wake up this morning to something. Hymns, praises, scripture, and hopefully more food delivered from on high. I should’ve saved a piece of pizza. Nothing chases a night of delivery better than a slice of cold pizza. I walk over and hopefully try the door.

  Locked, as I expected. I turn on the water, using the saved cup from the soda, and drink deeply. I look up, where I’m sure a camera watches.

  “Praise be to the Lord.”

  Unsure who or what’s watching, I sit down to read and study. Things last night got better—maybe. But as any prisoner knows, prison is still prison. It’s not freedom until you can walk out, go downtown with your buddies, knock back a few, and talk about your latest conquest, or complain about the latest crooked politician or government cover up.

  I miss my mates. Hell, I miss walking. I miss working out.

  The bible is easy to figure out if you apply yourself: there is the old testament angry god that kills, maims, and destroys anyone who crosses him. There are many ways to cross him too, from worshipping other gods, disobeying his laws, or sometimes just being a woman or a stupid teenager. He plays favorites too, just like the rest of us.

  When you get to the new testament, where I am now, the book turns a corner. You could call it an odd plot twist. This god sends his son down to earth to save the world. He teaches, says some pretty good stuff actually, but comes in bucking the system, ruining the money making church thing the elite few have going, so they kill him. He comes back three days later, but instead of sticking around and getting revenge, he splits back up to heaven. You think that would be the end.

  But no. A new church comes out of his life story, and starts doing the same thing as the one he kicked the shit out of. A guy named Saul/Paul, a 'converted' Roman soldier who personally helped in many disciple executions, calls himself an Apostle once Jesus split and can't call him out or a liar, he joins the chosen twelve, writes a bunch of letters to churches he started all over the place, and they make up the bulk of that half of the book.

  Basically most of the New Testament is a wankfest of Paul spewing his opinion. Yup, his opinion. I had to read that twice just to make sure I read it right.

  I do not have a command from the Lord, but I give you my opinion as one who by the Lord's mercy is worthy of trust... woman was made for man's sake. On account of angels then a woman should have a covering over her head to show that she is under her husband's authority... women is not independent of man. But if anyone wants to argue about it, all I have to say is that neither we nor the churches have any other custom in worship. - 1 corinthians.

  So 'female' sin is the fault of angels, and even if he doesn't have divine authority he makes it up as he goes, sucking his opinion out his asshole and spitting that crap at everyone.

  Now as I understand this whole Jesus story, is he came to free everyone, everywhere, of all sin, ever committed. So Paul spits on that and reverts right back to Old Testament laws, completely undoing the Jesus message, disregarding his ' personal sacrifice', and because of Paul's anti-woman agenda is hailed as the greatest disciple who ever lived because he 'included gentiles'.

  Yeah, well, all I know is when he gets to heaven that Jesus dude is going to want his balls on a silver platter for disrespecting his life's work and fucking up the 'good book'.

  I’m not finished reading it all yet, but in a book called Hebrews, the notes tell me there is some argument over who wrote it, but the author even says that there was stuff wrong with the old testament: “If there had been nothing wrong with the old covenant, there would have been no need for a second one.” Further down he says: “By speaking of a new covenant, God has made the first one old; and anything that becomes old and worn out will soon disappear.” Hebrews 8:7, 13

  There has to be a way for me to use this: either to convince him to let us go, or to get the hell out of here. I tried my hand at sales before, and I found out that I can be convincing, kind of like the acting I’ve been doing here. But I didn’t do well because I can’t sell stuff I don’t trust. What's that saying? Fake it 'til you make it.

  And I'm gonna try my damnedest to convince even me that this excrement is my new religion. Now though? This shit will sell itself if I put it out there right. If I can convince him that a prophet needs to have some privileges, I can get myself and the rest of us out of here.

  •

  19: Andrew:

  Hot water!

  Fucking take-out and cokes! No oatmeal and water, real food!

  When I shouted a praise to the Lord there, I fucking meant it.

  I don’t know if me and John mean the same one, but praise be all the same. Six of us left. Fucking six. There were seventy-two before.

  Sixty-six vic
tims. But my suck up skills made me one of the six, and for that I’m eternally grateful. Well, for that, a comfortable mattress, clean water. Fucking toilet, drinking water, and a solid dinner.

  Sure, I’m hungry again. I don’t grouse though. No way. Now ain’t the time to let my guard down. Someone has been watchin’ us every minute, and for bein’ good little boys and girls we got moved up in accommodations.

  I've got no illusions. We’re still the bottom of the food chain. John moved us at fuckin’ gun point. He didn’t march us outside whatever place this is, and set us free. There's no recreation time in here for good behavior 'n shit.

  We’ve seen his face, and if he lets us go, he has to know that sure as heck we’ll send hell rainin’ down on him, even if he did give us some rockin' pizza.

  I see it in the eyes of that Evan dude too. He does the right stuff, even was noble enough to help that chick out who was too weak to open her door. He’s acting too. If John can’t see those embers smoldering behind his eyeballs, he’s blind.

  If only there was a way we could talk. I hoped the feast meant we’d all be in the same room, communing and shit. No such luck.

  There’s only one way to pass the time, and I hope it pays off for me. If I can throw some scripture back in his face, quote the right fucking words, then maybe like in Sunday School he’ll let me out, and I can go spend the afternoon with my friends.

  The old testament has always been hard for me to understand. I need to understand, but maybe I can tackle that later when my stomach isn’t trying to eat my backbone. I flip open to Corinthians. If I gotta read the bible, might as well read Paul. I like his writing style.

  God did not keep an account of their sins, and he has given us the message which tells how he makes them his friends, - 2 Corinthians 5:19 I read, and laugh out loud. Remembering where I am, I shout loudly, “Praise be! Praise be indeed.”

  But I’m laughing because I don’t think god is going to make us his friends. No, I don’t think that at all.