Agent Martin
We ride in silence for a while, the wind whipping through the empty front of the car. After a while, the girl leans over the seat and says, “What are you going to do with me?”
I don’t bother to look at her. “I was sent here to save you.” Behind us, the sun is a brilliant orange, and has already fallen into the greedy, skeletal hands of the trees. "We need to find a quiet place.”
There is a wooden church down a road that no one has followed in a number of years. I can smell the mold a mile away. The path is overgrown, but solid to drive across, and I stop at the slate steps. Heavy doors that are chained closed and sagging on their hinges. The chains rust and crumble when I touch them, and the doors push open like a curtain to the dank vestibule. I don't have to tell the girl to follow.
The church is dark, lit only by the fading sun spilling through the broken stained glass windows. The floor is thick with dust. I snap my fingers and candles flare to life they have not known in years. “Go to the alter,” I command. She doesn't go fast enough, so I give her a push. She sees my sword for the first time. The blade ignites. She starts to cry.
I toss the girl on top of the alter and tie her down with leather cords. She is screaming and pleading, realizing the terrible reality of what is about to happen.
“Pray,” I tell her. “Pray to your God and ask him for forgiveness. If he sees honesty, you will be at Heaven’s Gate very soon.”
“You bastard!” she wails. “You fucking bastard! You can't kill me, I haven't done anything wrong!”
I show her the serrated dagger I keep under my armpit. “Now you choose to plead innocent. You have lived a life of sin long before you met the Devil, but now you wish to be spared. You beasts are all the same! Arrogant in the face of your Creator.” Her face calms a bit. “That is why it feels so good, that is why I love to torture and kill you! Hearing you scream doesn’t compare to the pain you cause your God. You were given everything, and you turned your back on it.” I open the briefcase on the alter beside her. “My brothers fought off chaos to build Heaven. In the end our lot became servants for you, serving animals that didn’t even know gratitude for your creation.”
“A jealous angel?” she asks. “That story's used up.”
“Angel?” I ask. “Is that what you think I am?" I shake my head in disbelief and lay out the brace of knives along the length of her leg. "Trial and error, you bred yourselves from monkeys into what could have been the equals of your God. You claim unique design, but you are no elegant machine. Life was created in the image of Creation. Some creations succeed. Others fail. Man and all that came before you was a great experiment to discover the roots of your God's creation. But you became fat and complacent. and perverse. I hate you humans because you could have evolved into God, but chose not to.”
Her face contorts in confusion. “To discover His own roots...?” the girl asks, her whole world-view strained by the subject.
“Would you rather have Free Will or an All-Knowing?" I ask and cut open the stomach of her shirt to paint the necessary runes. She wails and thrashes like it was her skin. “You can’t have both. If every event has already been mapped out in His big brain, then you aren’t plotting your own path. You can go through life doing whatever comes to mind, but ultimately, your path has been chosen for you. If you have Free Will, it means that even God doesn’t know what you are about to do from minute to minute.” I trace a line from her neck to her groin with my finger and whisper. “He did all this, tried with all of you, and has acknowledged failure. He tried to find out where He came from, because that is a question He can’t even answer.”
Go to Chapter 62
I don’t bother to look at her. “I was sent here to save you.” Behind us, the sun is a brilliant orange, and has already fallen into the greedy, skeletal hands of the trees. "We need to find a quiet place.”
There is a wooden church down a road that no one has followed in a number of years. I can smell the mold a mile away. The path is overgrown, but solid to drive across, and I stop at the slate steps. Heavy doors that are chained closed and sagging on their hinges. The chains rust and crumble when I touch them, and the doors push open like a curtain to the dank vestibule. I don't have to tell the girl to follow.
The church is dark, lit only by the fading sun spilling through the broken stained glass windows. The floor is thick with dust. I snap my fingers and candles flare to life they have not known in years. “Go to the alter,” I command. She doesn't go fast enough, so I give her a push. She sees my sword for the first time. The blade ignites. She starts to cry.
I toss the girl on top of the alter and tie her down with leather cords. She is screaming and pleading, realizing the terrible reality of what is about to happen.
“Pray,” I tell her. “Pray to your God and ask him for forgiveness. If he sees honesty, you will be at Heaven’s Gate very soon.”
“You bastard!” she wails. “You fucking bastard! You can't kill me, I haven't done anything wrong!”
I show her the serrated dagger I keep under my armpit. “Now you choose to plead innocent. You have lived a life of sin long before you met the Devil, but now you wish to be spared. You beasts are all the same! Arrogant in the face of your Creator.” Her face calms a bit. “That is why it feels so good, that is why I love to torture and kill you! Hearing you scream doesn’t compare to the pain you cause your God. You were given everything, and you turned your back on it.” I open the briefcase on the alter beside her. “My brothers fought off chaos to build Heaven. In the end our lot became servants for you, serving animals that didn’t even know gratitude for your creation.”
“A jealous angel?” she asks. “That story's used up.”
“Angel?” I ask. “Is that what you think I am?" I shake my head in disbelief and lay out the brace of knives along the length of her leg. "Trial and error, you bred yourselves from monkeys into what could have been the equals of your God. You claim unique design, but you are no elegant machine. Life was created in the image of Creation. Some creations succeed. Others fail. Man and all that came before you was a great experiment to discover the roots of your God's creation. But you became fat and complacent. and perverse. I hate you humans because you could have evolved into God, but chose not to.”
Her face contorts in confusion. “To discover His own roots...?” the girl asks, her whole world-view strained by the subject.
“Would you rather have Free Will or an All-Knowing?" I ask and cut open the stomach of her shirt to paint the necessary runes. She wails and thrashes like it was her skin. “You can’t have both. If every event has already been mapped out in His big brain, then you aren’t plotting your own path. You can go through life doing whatever comes to mind, but ultimately, your path has been chosen for you. If you have Free Will, it means that even God doesn’t know what you are about to do from minute to minute.” I trace a line from her neck to her groin with my finger and whisper. “He did all this, tried with all of you, and has acknowledged failure. He tried to find out where He came from, because that is a question He can’t even answer.”
Go to Chapter 62
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