Souls - XXIII

The church is gutted. 

By gutted I mean all of the pews are overturned and piled against the outer walls, piled so high they partially block all of the stained glass portrayals of the stations of the cross. The communion table at the front of the church is still there, but it’s been repurposed as a card table. Two men sit at it, facing each other as they smoke lazily and toss cards down. The crucifix or its base is nowhere to be seen.

Micheal must see me staring at the bald spot.

“Those always kind of creeped me out. Here, this way to your daughter.”

He leads me to a room that must have served as an altar boy prep room or something, lots of vestments of different sizes strewn about. Michael grabs one and drapes it over my shoulders. 

“I, for one, never understood all the pageantry, but who am I to judge? It’s obvious humans need to feel structurally important to the whole thing, so I say go at it. Fancy robes, morbid statues, holy fountains, have a fucking heyday.” 

He pauses and looks down the blood stained path from my groin to my knees. “There’s a shower over there if you want to wash all of the blood off.”

I can’t manage to think of anything to do but comply. This is all very unexpected.

He waits outside the door as I enter the shower.

“For the record, we did not do that to you. Honestly, I had no idea our fat friend was quite that depraved. A thief, a liar, a scoundrel, sure. But that? No, I had no idea. I’m sorry we left you with him.”

The warm water rushes down my body and through my wounds, the blood falling to the floor as pinkish-brown. Dirt and blood 

“Mary? My daughter?” I know I mouthed these words, but I didn’t hear them come out.

Michael responds nonetheless. 

“Yes, she’s a very special girl. As are you apparently. Making an alliance with demons to get your daughter back? That was surprising.

“Does she know? Does she know I’m her mother?”

“I don’t know, does she? Have you been dealing with demons often? You should know we don’t share their gift. We are bound by the rules of heaven, we can’t get in your head like a demon can. I don’t even know your name.”

“Why?”

“Oh I don’t know, it’s all pretty fucking silly really. All these strange rules, spirituality is a product of bureaucracy.”

“No, why did you attack us?”

Michael laughs, and at the risk of sounding ridiculous, it is angelic. 

“I think you may be misremembering. Our fat friend contacted us, as we instructed him to do when anyone stops at his diner. When he mentioned one of you was a woman in drag, and that you apparently had cash to burn, we were intrigued. We walked in, you went on the offensive and we were forced to retaliate. Humans are a strange breed.”

I think back. He’s right. They simply entered the diner and I jumped the table and attacked. The sight of a gaggle of men caused me to go on the offensive. I feel up to the deep gash on my head.

“Is that why I’m not dead? Can you not kill humans either?”

“Yeah, we gave you a nasty smack to the head there. I apologize for that, but you left us very little choice.”

I step out of the shower and back into the altar boy vestments.

“Ready to see your daughter?”

“Please.”

He raises his arm to the adjoining room and smiles.

“Right this way.”

I follow him.

“So she isn’t aware you're her mother? Should I ask the backstory?”

My silence is his answer.

“She’s a very special girl, she has a gift. If you notice there are only six of us here. We had thirteen when we came into that diner. She took care of seven.”

We reach the door and he shoves me in, it’s a dark room, all of the light is gone.

I feel the prick of a syringe stab my thigh, someone grabs me from behind.

Straps snap against my hands and legs, I’m being tied down.

The lights flash on.

Mary is facing me, tied to a table flipped vertically. Her arms raised outwards, her feet crossed at the bottom. She is their new crucifix.

Michael enters as two other men tie me into the same position.

“Sorry, precautions. In case you share your daughters gift.”

I can’t help by moan as the straps tighten into my skin.

“The drugs will kick in just a moment, you can’t explode if you can’t move right?”

I feel the heat start to rise in me, but it can’t spread. The drugs are numbing it.

“Pleeeaaase.” The word extends out of me, the last of my energy being spent on a single syllable of desperation.

He ignores the plea. “Until then, I have a few questions for you.”

He holds up the soul of Jesus Christ.

“First, where did you get this?”