Post by darkness0within on Sept 1, 2018 14:01:40 GMT -6
Confessional.
“Father I have sinned,” I spoke through the grill of the confessional.
“How long since your last confession my son” the priest said in a low lyrical voice that had an Irish accent, “too long father,” I said with the weariness of a being who wanted to make peace with the world at last.
The priest just carried on seemingly not noticing, “then give me your confession my son.”
This was very different to my last confession...
Tortured on the rack while I heard the screams of my wife in the next cell, “Confess sinner!” The inquisitor said to me as the wheel turned a little bit more, the pain searing through me as my arms began to come out of their sockets.
For two days they had tortured me, tortured my wife in unspeakable ways, I was a god fearing man then, a pillar of the society, now here I was to be condemned by the words of a neighbor who had a grudge against me, a witch I was called, a disciple of Satan, a confession they wanted, and I knew soon they would get what they wanted, my spirit was strong, but my body soon would let me down.
And soon I would be burned at the stake, with my poor wife, I tried not to think of what was happening to her in the next cell, but her screams and sobs I could not blot out, they seemed to seep into my very soul.
“I have killed father... Many times,” I felt a tear fall from my eye as I carried on, “The first was in the year 1547.”
The priests voice seemed to change a little, “1547?” “Yes father” I said, knowing now that he could not believe my tale, how could he, but I carried on telling him in detail of each and every soul I had destroyed up till the present day.
With the confession signed by my blooded hand they took me to a wretched cell, I heard no more screams from my wife, they told me she had died under torture with a sneer, my only reason for living was dead.
My tears mingled with the faeces that covered the floor of the cell, and through my pain a darkness came the like I had never felt before.
For the first time in my life revenge came into my mind... God had forsaken me... My wife. Now I prayed to the devil himself for justice.
He answered my prayer...
And now here I was... In a confessional for the first time in nearly six hundred years.
“They all deserved to die father” I said with conviction, the priest remained silent, surely he thought I was mad as he listened to what he thought was the ranting of a mad man who thought he was immortal.
Yes... Perhaps I was mad... But I am immortal.
The burning took place in a patch of land just outside the town.
The crowd jeered as I writhed in the flames, I cried out in my agonies that I would return to kill them all... They laughed at what they thought was an idle threat of a dying man... They were wrong.
“Through the centuries I’ve tracked down each and every descendent Of that town... I’ve killed them all... Except one.”
The priest coughed, “And who is the last descendent?” a note of sarcasm in the voice now. “You!” I said as I plunged the sword through the grill of the confessional piecing the priests heart.
He gave a moan and died almost instantly, “I’ll see you in hell Father!”
For now my task is at an end... The Devil kept his side of the bargain... Now I must pay the price.
I’ve already seen hell... This time it holds no fear.
Darkness.
“Father I have sinned,” I spoke through the grill of the confessional.
“How long since your last confession my son” the priest said in a low lyrical voice that had an Irish accent, “too long father,” I said with the weariness of a being who wanted to make peace with the world at last.
The priest just carried on seemingly not noticing, “then give me your confession my son.”
This was very different to my last confession...
Tortured on the rack while I heard the screams of my wife in the next cell, “Confess sinner!” The inquisitor said to me as the wheel turned a little bit more, the pain searing through me as my arms began to come out of their sockets.
For two days they had tortured me, tortured my wife in unspeakable ways, I was a god fearing man then, a pillar of the society, now here I was to be condemned by the words of a neighbor who had a grudge against me, a witch I was called, a disciple of Satan, a confession they wanted, and I knew soon they would get what they wanted, my spirit was strong, but my body soon would let me down.
And soon I would be burned at the stake, with my poor wife, I tried not to think of what was happening to her in the next cell, but her screams and sobs I could not blot out, they seemed to seep into my very soul.
“I have killed father... Many times,” I felt a tear fall from my eye as I carried on, “The first was in the year 1547.”
The priests voice seemed to change a little, “1547?” “Yes father” I said, knowing now that he could not believe my tale, how could he, but I carried on telling him in detail of each and every soul I had destroyed up till the present day.
With the confession signed by my blooded hand they took me to a wretched cell, I heard no more screams from my wife, they told me she had died under torture with a sneer, my only reason for living was dead.
My tears mingled with the faeces that covered the floor of the cell, and through my pain a darkness came the like I had never felt before.
For the first time in my life revenge came into my mind... God had forsaken me... My wife. Now I prayed to the devil himself for justice.
He answered my prayer...
And now here I was... In a confessional for the first time in nearly six hundred years.
“They all deserved to die father” I said with conviction, the priest remained silent, surely he thought I was mad as he listened to what he thought was the ranting of a mad man who thought he was immortal.
Yes... Perhaps I was mad... But I am immortal.
The burning took place in a patch of land just outside the town.
The crowd jeered as I writhed in the flames, I cried out in my agonies that I would return to kill them all... They laughed at what they thought was an idle threat of a dying man... They were wrong.
“Through the centuries I’ve tracked down each and every descendent Of that town... I’ve killed them all... Except one.”
The priest coughed, “And who is the last descendent?” a note of sarcasm in the voice now. “You!” I said as I plunged the sword through the grill of the confessional piecing the priests heart.
He gave a moan and died almost instantly, “I’ll see you in hell Father!”
For now my task is at an end... The Devil kept his side of the bargain... Now I must pay the price.
I’ve already seen hell... This time it holds no fear.
Darkness.
