Vigilante: Adventures Of An African Hero [COMPLETED]

[Three] Chains

"Father in heaven, please forgive me for my sins. In your eyes I am no more than a child who needs to learn, grow and know how to make better decisions. But you gave me flaws, you enabled me to make mistakes so that I could be a better person. Forgive me for the deceit I am about to commit.

Forgive me for the pain I am about to bring upon your children, but it is the only way I could make my world a better place to live in again. It is the only way I see fit to prevent another war from occurring. Please give me strength to live for another day, year, decade and I shall not only bring glory back to our name, but I will make everyone fear it. Amen." 

Father James raised his head and stared at the metallic cross hanging on the wall. In his clasped hands, he held a plastic rosary. He kissed it before placing it on the small table in front of him. He then stood up and turned around, facing his bed.

"Father J, please come and take our sins," a naked girl said, biting the hem of the bed sheet.

"Yes, Father. We've been very naughty," the second girl added, licking her lower lip seductively.

A huge smiled crossed Father James' lips before he took off the robe, revealing his birthday suit. If some of his congress members were told about his sex addiction, no one would have believed it. He was a worldwide renowned priest, an inspiration to everyone who knew or heard of him. Some of his followers called him "God's Right Hand Man", hoping when the end of the world came, he was the one to lead the pure to heaven.

"Who am I?" he asked the girls.

"God," they replied.

"And who are you?"

"Your slaves!" The girls giggled.

He smiled. 

Father James looked at the two girls. One had her hands tied to the bed posts, while the other one held a flogger in her hands. "Hit her," he ordered the other girl and she obliged, swinging the weapon playfully across her fellow's stomach. "Harder." The girl did so and the flogger left a mark. "I want to see her bleed."

The girls stared at him in shock.

I don't think that's necessary, a voice in his head said. 

"Fine, just do what I paid you for."

Some of Father James' opposers believed he went mad after the end of the fourth world war. When humanity was on the brink of collapse, he took it upon himself and used faith to bring everyone together, and he succeeded. Better international relationships were restored and some countries basically worshiped him. 

But that wasn't enough. 

A tick in his head was turned on and all he dreamed about was power and domination, and he sought out different ways to achieve it. 

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Father James walked out of his room and locked the door behind him. He proceeded to the mirror in front of him and stared at his reflection. "Perfection," he mumbled, flexing his toned arms. 

At the age of forty five, he showed no sign of aging, looking like any other man in their mid twenties. He had three tattoos. Two were on his arms; A black rose on his right, and a picture of an old woman wearing a hijab on his left. The other one was a pair of two white wings on his back with the words Fallen God written below.

He rubbed back his raven-black hair, before giving his reflection a wink.  "Father James," he heard a woman's voice call beside him. He recognized it and a smirk appeared on his face as he turned to her.