The Last Ranger

Chapter 5: A Lesser Lord

The Book of the Creator teaches that when a man dies, his soul leaves him, transcending to a place of judgement. Purgatory, the Book names it. Here, his past actions come back to haunt him and judge whether he is worthy of Heaven or if he would be cast down to Hell. Some stay trapped in Purgatory for all eternity, though their souls grow restless and violent. They return as the Taken.

Claudia wondered if the man she killed was a good man and if he would pass his judgement and go to eternal paradise or if he was evil, a Servant of the Dark, and that by killing him, she had sent his soul to eternal damnation instead. Maybe he would stay trapped, and return as a Taken, to haunt her once more...

It was odd, dwelling on the nature of mortality, especially if she was not a believer. Each year a new clergyman came, spewing the words from the Book from memory. There was a reason these clergymen were sent to Sanctuary F-19 for their test. They were terrible preachers. But still, their words found a place in the back of Claudia's mind, their lessons on the False Gods, the Creator, even the Chosen One... Their theories about what comes after were an afterthought in Claudia's mind until now.

What will happen to me when I die?

The journey from the Commission to where she stood now was a blur. She found herself in front of a mirror, a ghost staring back at her. A monster. Its hair was a tangled mess of brown strains. Underneath hollow brown eyes, dark rings formed. A red streak covered a pale cheek. Even its clothes were blood-spattered. The sight of it sent a shiver down Claudia's spine. It looks so familiar...

She forced herself to look away from the mirror, down to her hands. More blood. My blood? What occurred in the Commission seemed unreal, like a troubling dream one wishes to forget. But this was real... She was the creature in the mirror- a killer. The Book says it's wrong to kill... To take a life is a damnable sin, yet the universe is filled with death brought down upon others; by men... Are their souls already down in Hell? Or are they still roaming the place of judgement? Or is the Book of the Creator rather a book of lies?

Claudia was shaking. She fell to her knees and curled up into a ball. She began to cry. "What have I done?" She asked. In the broadcasts, killing someone seemed so easy. The hero always kills. It never bothered them. What did I think was going to happen? For so long, she wished to leave Sanctuary F-19, to become an adventurer, and see the universe. Now she had, and she longed for home: The dismissive look on Doc Eileen's old face when she broke a bone, Sal's robotic voice, even the snarky comments of her peers. They were so far away now...

He should have told me the truth... Told me who he was and who I am... Just some orphan... "I could have found my place then." She thought aloud. She was in a bathroom in some motel on the edge of Sanctuary city. After the Commission, Monroe stole the dead fixer's car, flying it to several motels before abandoning it at the third. From there, they walked to a fourth before calling a taxi and flying to a fifth. It was an odd cheap small motel. It had few patrons, and they were mostly farmers and frontiersmen, too poor to find a bigger place in the big city. Perfect for Monroe. He paid for a room upfront. Inside the room, he ushered Claudia into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Claudia took a deep breath and stood up, looking at herself once more in the mirror. The blood on her hands was not her own, nor was the streak on her face. The dead men's blood felt like a dark taint, burning into her soul. Below the mirror, there was a sink with an old rusty faucet. She opened it, and cold water began to flow. Desperately, she tried to wash the blood from her hands, viscously scrubbing until the entire sink was filled with red-stained water.

Still, traces of blood remained on her skin. Claudia tried again, but the red would not go away. She nearly began to cry again... She took a deep breath, trying her best to regain her composure. Her knapsack was on the floor nearby. Monroe must have brought it with him. Inside there should be a fresh change of clothes. The bathroom had no shower or... bath, for that matter.