This new project is a bit of a departure from my other work, but dang is it fun for me. I hope when it is finished I can make it come out on the page like I see it in my head.
This is a little rough, but here we go! Another Chapter from this one, and this may be the last that I post until the novel is done.
They were everywhere. Slowly walking through the crisp night air. Earlier in the day he decided that he just had to find her. He had to, find a way, no matter what, stop her poorly chosen course of action. He must protect her innocent husband. He had to protect the innocents she was harming with her choices.
As a priest he was the sword and the shield of God. There was far more at stake than just her husband. He had to take this small step. He had to protect mankind from this evil, by any means necessary.
He was having difficulty keeping his eyes on the road while trying to locate her. He said a silent prayer of thanks for the lack of rainfall. The full moon was also helping make this Saturday night brighter than most.
Many of the streetlights did not work these days due to some budget cutback or other. The government continued to make many of these cuts in as many highly visible ways as possible. The more visible the cutback the better, for political reasons. Every layer of government called it a time of fiscal crisis. They did this all the while they continued to increase the salaries of the highest-ranking government employees by enormous percentages every year.
Apparently light bulbs were too expensive, but the enormous salaries for the ones that decided not to keep the lights working were perfectly acceptable. To Father Frank it was just another example of the rapid decay of morals and ethics finding ways into all portions of life.
He could see them, they were mixed in with the normal pedestrians who were on their way to dinner, or perhaps a show. He saw them, the original peddlers of sin. They were walking around advertising their primal services. They were mixed in with the crowd and moved around mostly unnoticed due to how many of them there were.
Maybe she had already found a customer and he was too late. He had to find her. He could not lose faith, his search had to be successful. God wanted him to find her.
As he continued through what remained of the more upscale part of the Boston Theater District, he saw many more of them. These would be the expensive ones. These women had to be the prostitutes that parishioners came in and confessed to being with. He always saw just how bad people’s emotional lives got after giving into this kind of temptation. He saw them as the aftermath, as good people tried to make peace with giving in to temptation. He helped them deal with that guilt.
The women were walking the streets like they had a destination in mind. In a manner of speaking he supposed they did.
They all had their own way of showing off their “product.” Most were doing this by wearing clothing with as little fabric as humanly possible without exposing the last few vital patches of skin. It was an impressive thing really, especially given the cold night air.
Then he saw her. The one he was looking for. He saw her first from behind. She had a shapely 5’8” frame, and brown hair down to the center of her back. Her real name was Lisa, but who knew what she used out here. He knew most women in this “profession” would use a fake name. His misspent youth had given him some experience in this area. When he thought about that part of his life now it seemed like someone else had done these things.
Maybe he was wrong, maybe this one used her real name. It didn’t matter, this was the woman he sought.
That was her, it was definitely her, she was the one that did this, not out of financial necessity, but out of her lust for danger, her desire for danger and sex. He still wondered how she could od this and still think of herself as committed to her marriage. It was pure evil that enabled her to behave in this fashion. In their marriage they had plenty of money, plenty of love. At least in one direction. She had no real need other than her perverted lust for danger and carnal pleasure.
He slowed the Jeep that had been his since before becoming a priest and lowered the window. “Excuse me. Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Father Frank hoped he could remember the entire pretense he had decided on that he hoped would get her in the vehicle. He hoped his story would be believable. It did have the ring of truth to it; at least he believed he did.
She strutted over to the car in her high-heeled boots, short red skirt and ludicrously low-cut shirt revealing as much cleavage as she was physically able. She had attempted to disguise her identity through heavy makeup, but this was definitely the woman he sought.
He would never forget the unique shade of blue in her eyes. He felt that looking at them in the confessional offered him a view into her twisted and evil soul. Here on the street he saw that same evil. Nothing had changed since he spoken with her. It was actually worse than he originally thought. Now that he saw her out here, he felt that perhaps it was too late for her.
“Sure. Hey, I know you. What is a Holy Man like you doing out here? Wait, did you come out here to try to talk me out of this?” she asked.
“Would it do any good if I tried?” he asked. The grimace that went along with his statement was something he practiced in the mirror hoping it would persuade her to believe his story.
“None at all,” she said flatly and without hesitation.
“Look, I will be blunt. Even men in my more rarified profession get stressed and have certain needs. Pressure builds up. Normally I can handle things myself, in a manner of speaking. Right now, I am in desperate need of some major relief. I have not been able to get you off my mind since we spoke,” that much was absolutely true.
“I am, after all, human. I think you are the one type of woman whom can help me with the problem I am struggling with, and I think both of us can get something out of this,” he said, hoping it didn’t sound too rehearsed or desperate. He thought he may have rambled on a little too long.
There was zero hesitation as she opened the door. “This will be a first. I can legitimately claim this is one thing even I never dreamed of doing. I don’t know if I should call this kinky or just bizarre. Either way, I am in,” she said as she climbed into the car.
“How much?” he asked as he quickly pulled away from the curb worrying that he might sound too nervous. It didn’t matter, he was going to stop her tonight, one way or the other.
“For you?!? All things considered, if you will answer one question for me, I will do you for free. To whom will you confess this sin?” she asked flirtatiously, not caring about the answer.
He let out a genuine laugh, “Any other priest can hear my confession.” It was the last thing he expected her to ask.
As they drove to the motel where he had already taken a room for the night, he hoped the inane chitchat would not give away his nervousness. He still wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do, but he was taking steps.
He was firm in his belief that the Savior would once again return to walk amongst mankind. Father Frank believed that the moral state of a world eternally at war that the Savior was needed more now than it had been in a long time. Lacking the return of THE Savior, perhaps a messenger of his would serve for the moment. Perhaps he was the messenger who could put the world on a road back toward the light. Perhaps that process could start with this woman.
Driving around looking for this woman, looking at the deviant underside of society had solidified Father Frank’s belief that the world was in urgent need of His return. The Priest was more confident than ever that the actions he intended to take this night would be the first steps on the road back toward the light for the world. It would all start with this woman.
The half-truths/half-lies he told this woman would serve the greater good. Yes, he was deceiving her but that was necessary to serve the greater good. Frank believed in old world justice, old world values. Scripture was very clear in its message of God being the ultimate authority on justice. The Priest believed those who served him on the worldly plane of existence were meant to help in delivering people to the Lord for justice.
She saw his mind drifting and shifted his focus back to the situation immediately at hand.
“At this point I would usually ask what it is you want. In this case I am going to guess you don’t have too many ideas. Should I offer up a few suggestions?” she asked while gently running a finger around her ample breast, slightly exposing a nipple in the process. It was a well-practiced move.
“I do have something in mind. You know, just because I am a man of God doesn’t mean that I have neither understanding of, nor fantasies about the pleasures of the flesh. Besides, in the confessional, people tell me all kinds of things. Some parishioners like to describe their sins with loads and loads of detail. Normally the things they confess sexually are things that they have done with someone other than their spouse. Every once in a while, I start to think that some people come in so they can brag instead of confess,” he said.
This admission of his was accurate. He had decided to tell her the absolute truth whenever practical. He had no worries about her believing his story. God must be helping him. Surely, he had Diving protection. Why wouldn’t he? At least he could stop her on this night.
“What is it you want to do to me?” she asked.
“I want to bind you to the bed. Your hands and feet will be spread to the four corners. Then I will cut the clothes from your body, then move my tongue from your breasts slowly down to your womanhood. Finally, when I am convinced you are exhausted by orgasm after orgasm. I will thrust my manhood inside you. When I climax, I will spread my seed across your lovely breasts,” he said. Perhaps this night would bring the Return of the Lord through this woman.
“My, my, you are a naughty boy. Normally I am not a big fan of being tied up, because I like to be able to move around. For you, I will let that rule slide,” she said as they arrived at the hotel. She could not wait to have this man inside her. She was pleased they had arrived quickly. Her heart was beating quickly in anticipation. This was not a sensation she experienced often, but she was finding enjoyable.
He opened the door and they entered the non-descript, inexpensive motel room. She had noticed while on the way that they were not in a good part of town, and far from where she called home. In fact, it was a fairly bad part of town, but she was used to that. Perhaps not this bad, but not far from it. Many of her customers, even the very wealthy, preferred parts of town where no one would ask questions. The room certainly had everything they needed for the next few hours.
He pushed her to the bed in what he hoped would be a playful fashion. He reached into the nightstand drawer where he had pre-placed some long strips of leather. He used them to tie her to the bed.
Her heard began beating faster.
The further things progress, the calmer he became.
She winced in pain as he tightened them more than someone doing this sort of thing normally would. She ignored the pain, merely attributing it to his inexperience in sexual play, besides the pain excited her.
He pulled out an eight-inch, razor sharp hunting knife from the drawer. He swiftly cut the clothes from her body. She moaned in apparent pleasure. He was unsure if it was part of a show for him, or if she was really enjoying this, not that it mattered. He wondered what clothing she planned on wearing home. He supposed that in time her clothing, or lack of it, would be irrelevant.
Finally, he pulled a gag from the drawer. He shoved it in her mouth and tied the strap behind her head. Her eyes grew wide as she moaned again. Now he was certain that this evil woman was enjoying this bizarre situation.
With her fully prepared he looked upon her naked body. He could not help but admire the primitive nature of her curves. The raw, animalistic lust it must invoke in most men was obvious in point of origin.
It didn’t matter. His frustration with being unable to fix the world around him in the eyes of God was now boiling over.
No doubt about one thing, she was the epitome of attractive woman. Original sin had come from another attractive woman, and she had been dealt with.
He prayed silently. He was sure God could hear.
My Lord, you know of my love for You. I want nothing more than for this world to once again reflect Your image. Humans, such as the one before me, are obviously under Lucifer’s influence, and to him they must be sent. I pray for her trip to the afterlife to be sift so that she may face Your justice. Amen.
He finished the prayer and stood over the bed with the knife still clenched in his right hand. He saw her look to his crotch and notice his lack of physical excitement. Her eyes then quickly moved to meet his. Her expression of excitement replaced by one of confusion.
Perhaps, in addition to his lack of erection, his still being fully clothed led her to understand this was something other than the sexual tryst she was led to believe. She looked back to the knife in his hand and noticed he had on latex gloves. She hadn’t seen that before, and the look in her eyes grew wide with panic. She was no longer confused. She pulled on the leather holding her to the bed, attempting to free herself.
He thrust the knife at her chest. She rocked her mid-section to one side. She was very flexible.
The knife missed its mark. He had wanted to stab her in the heart. All he managed was to leave a long, deep cut across her torso. Blood began to flow and leave a red pool on the bed sheets.
She let out a noise that was far from the sounds she had uttered in many other cheap motel rooms. This one sounded like a wounded cat.
The leather straps were too strong to be broken. She managed to pull one arm hard enough that a part of the bed broke, and she suddenly had one arm free.
She punched him in the solar plexus.
She freed her other extremities and made her way to the side of the room where the Priest was trying to stand or even take a deep breath.
A much-practiced knee to the face sent him tumbling across the room. He had lost all ability to get his feet under him. Blood was flowing from his nose and down his face.
He managed somehow to stagger to one foot and a knee. He brandished the knife hoping to keep her back while he regrouped for a second try at her heart.
A small grin crossed her face despite the pulsating pain in her side. The Priest had no way of knowing that she had mastered disarming a knife wielding assailant years before.
He lunged at her in an attempt to have the blade find her heart. He missed completely as she spun out of the way. In the process she grabbed his arm, throwing him to the ground as the knife flew across the room in the opposite direction, and well out of his reach. Certain that he wasn’t an immediate threat she went for the knife.
He found himself confused and on the floor. His rattled brain was telling him to stay down and figure out how to stop the pain.
A voice in his head told him to get up. He fought the urge to vomit and instead pulled a gun from the inner pocket of his jacket. He had thought this night through, complete with backup plan.
From the outset he thought the knife would be the optimal silent solution. A gun would have to do.
He fired twice, once in her chest, once in the head.
She fell to the floor with her head making a very disturbing, wet, squishy sound. He thought it sounded a bit too much like an overly wet sponge falling onto a tile floor. The second bullet had taken a portion of her brain and scattered the grey sticky substance with thick bloody streaks on the walls behind her. It started to slowly work its way down the wall. Some pieces of her skull littered the floor. Portions of it had shattered as the bullet exited her head and left rice sized pieces of bone on the floor.
It had been so easy. It was easier than he thought it would have been to release her twisted soul from the physical body.
He quickly gathered his things and left the room. He was now very glad he kept the German made pistol his grandfather had brought back as a memento from his time in Europe during World War II. It was the only thing left to him in his beloved grandfather’s last will and testament.
He knew in this neighborhood the police would see the scene for what it was. A murdered prostitute. No major investigation would be launched.
He climbed back into his Jeep, took off the gloves, and wiped his forehead free of sweat. He cleaned the blood from his face on the towel he had taken from the room and pulled out of the parking lot.
He wanted to make his way back to the Church and pray.
His opening salvo in the Holy War to reclaim God’s Earth had been fired.
His position of honor in Heaven would be certain.