The Powers That Be/Matthew

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Revision as of 15:50, 23 November 2013

"Today they release me from the dungeon," you thought. That was a blessing, however you looked at it. The room was not, by any standard, a comfortable prison. For one, it was filled with dead bodies, rotting and stinking up the area. You were free to make snarky comments, simply because you had withdrawn into your shell. At least, your true form had. Your true form, as it was termed,by you, was your personality, memories and thoughts, bundled up and taken away from the relentless torture you had been experiencing physically. You could no longer feel the pain, instead watching as if simply a spectator as you were placed on the receiving end of numerous torture devices. You had attempted to converse with this other person, but it had not been pleasant, as he had just quoted lines from the Book of Rapture, which you recognized from having the scripture screamed at you in the early stages of conditioning. It had made you flinch as you remembered the sting of the whips on your then unblemished skin, causing you to stay away from the rage-filled version of you.

They had taken you away from everyone you loved, and everything you knew. It was all because of your uncle. Your uncle was a member of the cult of Rapture, ostracized from the family because of his religion. Normally religious discrimination would been have met with your disapproval, but the cult of Rapture involved far more murder than you felt was right.

Your entire family knew about your powers, being able to harness shadows in a number of manners. Your father had warned you not to use them, and you had obediently hidden the abilities. Unfortunately, your uncle had found out about your powers in a passing mention on Christmas Eve, the only day he was allowed into the house. You had gone to bed early that night, forced by your parents, and ended up spirited away amidst their celebrations by your uncle.

"So, this the one?" asks a guard who had just come into your field of vision.

"Yeah. The new messiah," a second man said, following the first into the room. They both looked down upon the word Messiah, following the rules of the cult.

The men freed you from the shackles, prompting your attempt to seize the moment and fight them off, but you realize it had been a mistake to pass control over to this brutal version of yourself, for you found it impossible to wrest it back. You sat back in silence, resigning yourself to this fate.

They walked you forward, standing to the front and back of you, the one behind poking you in the back with his rifle every so often. You were led up the stairs, the soldiers pausing in front of the door to drape a sheet over you. You ended up at the front of the church, where a large congregation was waiting for you. A priest stood in front of the altar, waiting.