Crown Of Thorns [ Michael Langdon ]

16 - devil's advocate - 16

{Chapter Sixteen - Devil's Advocate}

~ I'm the devil's advocate
You don't know the half of it ~

- Devil's Advocate

Michael was prepared to stay in the wilderness, and wait for his father to send him a real sign, but Elora's condition worsened. She hadn't spoken to him all day, and he was worried she might die, so he scooped her up in his arms, and left the God forsaken forest they had been in for days.

Luckily, Elora gained some strength and managed to walk once they reached civilisation. They looked almost dead, with their ripped clothes and hollow faces. Michael was growing stubble, and Elora had smudged mascara under her eyes. She was also barefoot, she had ditched her boots a while ago. 

She had no idea where Michael was going, and neither did he. He felt a pull in his chest towards somewhere. Michael was still frustrated that his father hadn't listened to him, so he hoped that wherever his intuition was taking them was more helpful.

Michael stopped in an alleyway, and stared at a door. Elora's head pounded as she stopped next to him. Even though she had stopped walking, she still felt like her legs were moving.

"This is it." Michael whispered, his voice hoarse.

"What?"

"I think this is where my father has sent me." Michael said, as he pushed open the door. Elora followed him inside, reluctantly. It seemed to be some sort of church, except it looked satanic. Michael and Elora sat down in the last pew, while a couple of people turned around to look at them.

"People. Listen the fuck up." A woman at the front was saying. "Just because we have a president who's a total douchenozzle and global warming is getting worse, that doesn't mean you can sit here on your lazy asses and holler out a few 'Hail Satans.' You think end-time's just gonna show up like a herpes sore?"

Elora concluded that this was a satanic church, and these people were satanists.

"The Antichrist is gonna ride in on a wave of sin, and all we have here is a weak piss dribble. Somebody, please help me out. I'm about ready to gouge out my own eyes so I don't have to look at this weak-ass congregation anymore. I need to hear some sins. I need to feel we're making way for him." The woman continued. "You." She pointed to someone in the front row. "What are your sins? What did you do to usher him in this week?"

"I stole a hundred dollars from my register at work." The person answered.

"Seriously? A fucking rounding error? You think that's gonna open up the Gates of Hell?" As more people started confessing their sins, Elora noticed that Michael was crying. She brought her hand up to his face and brushed the tears away.

"I'm sorry." He murmured, taking her hand.

"What on earth are you sorry for?" Elora hummed.

"Whatever. Okay. Let's speak in tongues for a hot sec and... show some respect." The woman said, and people starting passing around an offering bowl. When it got to Michael and Elora, they just stared into it, unsure what to do. The woman who had passed it to them was watching them intently.

"We don't have any money right now." Michael told her, passing the bowl back. The woman's brows furrowed in concern,

"Or any food from the looks of it. How long has it been since you ate?" Elora didn't even know the answer to this question. She looked at Michael, who's eyes were filling with tears again. This broke her heart into a million pieces. She hated seeing him cry.