Deliver None (novelette)

Chapter 5: The Truth

After I woke up, I had a good amount of time to process where I was. The sign made it clear - I was in a mental hospital named after the Society for Thyself. The room was very bright, and it was one of the largest rooms I've ever been in. There were multiple distinguished sections to it, including dedicated dining and relaxation areas. I had my own restroom towards the left side and there were several chairs and tables scattered about as well. It was very cozy. Didn't exactly fit being named after the Society for Thyself, though. I wondered why it was called that at first.
The entire floor was covered in a very fluffy-looking carpet. I wouldn't use "colorful" as a word to describe it in particular, but there were different shades of color on it. Dark red, dark green, dark blue, etcetera. The chairs all had soft cushions underneath them, and decorated tablecloths were draped over every table. I felt like I was in a house of royalty, or something like that. I didn't have the slightest clue what happened to cause me to wake up in such a luxurious space atop a fluffy hospital bed, but here I was! I was rather impressed!
In some ways, it didn't feel quite like a house of royalty, though. It felt like my old church. The walls were brown and there were glass paintings on the walls, and much of the furniture was also made of wood, just like in the church I grew up in. However, the glass paintings didn't depict religious imagery. Rather, they depicted heretic imagery. Pictures of powerful, highly-regarded figures turning their backs on God, fighting his servants, or even joining the enemy. Fitting that the hospital was named after the Society for Thyself, I guess.
My time to look further at all the different aspects of the giant room was interrupted when a group of four young people - one man, one woman, and two non-conforming folks - entered the room. All wore hospital uniforms, all were holding clipboards and sheets of paper, and all had smiles on their faces. But they weren't forced, like the way many marketers try to pull it off. I could tell they were natural smiles, the smiles that showed they cared, rather than those that showed they were trying their hardest to put on a show. I felt much more comfortable with this.
"Ah, Harriet. I see you are awake. My name is Milton, and I'll be one of your assistants here," the man said with concerning, generous eyes.
"How do you know my name?" I couldn't help it - that was the only question on my mind.
"Your identification paper. We found it in your pocket," the woman replied. "My name is Louise."
"Ah, I see. Makes sense," I said softly. I had forgotten about where I had put my identification card.
"How are you feeling right now," one of the non-conforming folks asked. I saw on their name tag that it read "Rowan".
"Fine. Surprisingly comfortable. But I need to know where exactly I am and what exactly happened here, other than that this place is named after the dreaded Society for Thyself for some reason."
The four hospital workers chuckled for a second. Then the last one, who was also non-conforming with a name tag reading "Remy", spoke. "Harriet, this might surprise you but this is the Society for Thyself. We are a mental and trauma hospital."
I was indeed shocked. I couldn't finish letting my surprise process itself before I stammered the words "But...but...the church?"
The four looked a bit confused. "Um...what church? There is no church..." Rowan said, scratching their head.
I was even more confused at this point. "But...I was in a demonic church...the sky was red...they were gonna burn me and sacrifice me to resurrect the devil...I was covered in blood and burns."
"No, you weren't," Milton explains with a serious voice. "You smashed our door open, began spinning around in circles, said a whole bunch of unintelligible stuff, and then you fainted."
"The only thing you suffered were a couple bruises and a few minor bone fractures," Remy finished.
I let it all sink in for a few minutes. Then, I did what my hyper-faithful self would have instantly regretted if I were in the presence of my fellow religious: I asked more questions. "So, you guys run a mental and trauma hospital, huh?"
"Yes. We specialize in providing treatment, useful information, and all the necessary resources to deal with abuse, trauma, and confusion, in particular, that which is inflicted by religions and other cults," Rowan explained.
"Religion? Religion is a source of abuse and trauma?" I was taken rather aback by this statement that they so proudly proclaimed.
"Yes. I see on your identification card that you're associated with the church in Terrafidei. It's incredibly hard for religious folks to process the idea that religion is in fact one of the largest sources of abuse and evil," Remy elaborated.
"I was sent by my church to investigate you guys. We were told that you guys were a demonic agency of the devil. I had visions of you guys wearing dark cloaks and sacrificing me to resurrect the devil. I even saw on the flyers that you were going to 'deliver none from evil' and there was going to be a 'resurrection'. So you're telling me all this was wrong?" I knew that the answer they were going to give me would be interesting.
"Not exactly," Louise began. "What we meant is that, through treatment and therapy for those recovering from religious abuse and trauma, we will resurrect the devil that lies inside of them. We as intelligent species naturally long to feel liberty, to express rebellion against aging systems, to challenge, to question, and to seek knowledge without restriction. We're naturally attracted to the taboo and the forbidden. We believe in the health and necessity to unleash these 'demonic' tendencies. That's why we vowed to resurrect the demons inside of us to make us become our most authentic selves. We advocate for thyself, hence the name, and not a higher power. Because in our authenticity and trueness, we trust our instincts and our gut, typically labeled as 'evil' and 'sinful' by those adhering to religion. That is the 'evil' we will 'deliver none' from."
"On my way here, I had a bunch of visions about the various religious teachings that I was taught from a young age. About how I should always be obedient and dismiss unholy science. My family and community loved me unconditionally. I would like to know how you could say I was abused by my religion." My confusion, not my passion, was doing the talking now.
"Well, yes. You were abused," Milton began. "All people of religious faith have to be abused and suffered in order to get there. Here is our preferred way to put it: there are six major steps that all religions use to abuse, brainwash, and manipulate every one of its followers."
"The first step," Milton continued, "is to begin religious teaching from a young age. We've heard of Terrafidei and we know what it's like. The very first thing everyone is taught, even before they're taught how to count, is that God is good and the devil is the enemy. Or in other words, obedience is good and freedom and dissent are the enemies. If you teach them early and do it right, it'll stick with them until the end of time."
"Alternatively," Remy added, "you might not necessarily need to be taught from an early age. Another way to initiate the path down religious brainwashing is to be already suffering. A lot. When one is desperate and is all out of options to turn to, the last resort of hope is often religion. Thus, when they give up on everything, including themselves, they're much more vulnerable to begin walking down the same path that every religious child begins walking down nearly immediately after birth. The commonality here is that, whether one is young and innocent or suffering and hopeless, both no longer know any better to steer away from what might be the biggest mistake of their lives."
"The second step," Rowan began, "is to gradually make religion a greater part of one's life. At first, they tell you it's easy. Read this text, attend the occasional service. Then there's more. As one grows up, they're asked to attend services more frequently, read additional religious texts, memorize them, confess their sins, the sins themselves become more strict, partake in community service, etcetera. The point is, more of your life dedicated to yourself is being taken away from you and replaced with religion."
"This not only applies in rituals and church-specific activities," Milton added, "but also in the scope of your personal life as well. Throughout your journey, it's 'revealed' to you just how much of your life is controlled by God or should be viewed as 'signs' from God. Any suffering you might experience? If it's caused by you, it's either your fault and deemed an ungodly sin, or it's the devil's fault. If not, it's either the devil trying to persuade you to dissent, or it's God carrying out his plan, which always happens to be good. You begin to 'realize' that there isn't a single aspect of your life that does not relate to God."
Louise was the next to speak as I was eagerly listening to all of this. "The third step deals with how opposing forces are dealt with. Inevitably, one will run into those that do not conform to their religious beliefs. Scientists, free thinkers, etcetera. The religious are instructed how to respond to them. They do not refute or debunk the arguments presented by the opposition, nor do they even truly listen to them at all. Instead, they employ a strawman. They construct an inaccurate, exaggerated totem of the opposition, and equate them with it. They use this as a fear tactic to warn followers to stay in line and to prohibit free, unfiltered discussion and discourse. It is, unfortunately, really effective."
"Step four," Rowan began, "is to further reward loyalty to the religion and further prohibit opposition. All religions promise things to those who are faithful. Whether it's eternal life in the afterlife, eternal wealth and prosperity in the current life, or the ability to level up in the religious hierarchy to, say, a priest, religions promise on things, and unfortunately, sometimes they do indeed deliver on them. Likewise, they promise harsher forms of punishment, such as expulsion, public punishment, or violent exorcisms, to any who further dissent against their community of faith."
"Eventually," Remy started talking again, "they will push so hard that they take your entire life away. This is the fifth step. Now, your life is under complete control of the religion. Even if there are no physical people controlling your life, there need not be. Even if the religion is proven to be false, that is not necessary. The fact is, every aspect of your life is now controlled by this religion, no matter what. There is not a single thing you do or can do that will not have absolutely everything to do with your religion. It not only controls your life, it is your life now. However, this is not the end."
"After it takes your life, your body, what's the last thing it can take?" I could tell that when he asked this question, Milton was being rhetorical. "Your very mind, soul, and consciousness." Milton, having answered his own question, confirmed my suspicions. "That's the sixth step. Many people, such as yourself, do not make it to the sixth step before they realize what's happened to them, dissent, and change their life forever. However, unfortunately, for most of the religious population, it is far too late. Their minds and souls are now completely consumed by religion, and there is absolutely no amount of reasoning or persuasion that can cure them. This is what death by religion looks like."
I was taking in more information than I ever had at any moment in my entire life. Due to my mental exhaustion, all I could ask them was "So...what happens now?"
"What happens now," Rowan began, "is that you'll stay here for a few more days. You still have some bone fractures that need to be mended."
"And bruises that need to be treated," Remy added.
"Once that happens, you'll be cleared to leave. Hopefully you'll leave with a new mind and a new sense of your purpose."
"Hopefully others will know about our true intentions," Louise finished.
"Yes, I think I will. And...I hope so too." I was surprised by the honest words that came out of my mouth. I've never spoken like this before, but I knew I meant it.
The four of them walked out of the room after informing me that they'll check on me repeatedly during my stay and rid me of my injuries. This gave me a lot of time to reflect on everything that they told me about religion and how it related to my life. Suddenly, everything they told me made sense. Mrs. Newt was not just scolding me for asking questions, she was reinforcing the notion that opposition must be punished and loyalty rewarded. Professore Poreson saw through his failure to make absolutely everything about our religion, and desperately tried to undo his mistake for the purpose of making religion an even bigger part of our lives and knowledge than it already is.
Then I remembered the victim of the exorcism. That was the most extreme punishment I've ever seen in my life. Death - the punishment to end all punishments. Extreme measures of dissent, the ultimate sin, called for the most extreme punishment. Not only for him, but for all of us witnessing, to make sure we stayed in line. All the other bystanders watched without a shred of sympathy for him. Their minds were taken over by religion. They could feel absolutely nothing anymore for anyone that is not also consumed. Everything about religious trauma and abuse, and my and everyone else's unknown status of being a victim to the abuse of religious faith, made all too much sense to me now.
I continued to think, and continued to realize that what the Society for Thyself said was true. Soon, probably either as a result of my physical injuries or my mental exhaustion, my ability to think started to fade. I didn't keep track of how long I've been awake in this hospital bed, but its comfort made me want to end it. Without hesitation, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep for my first night as a new woman. A new, independent, free thinking, heretic, heathen woman. At least, that's probably what my family will call me.
When I woke up, I saw that it was a few days later. All of my injuries were now healed and I was able to sit up again. I must have been fed and nourished in my deep sleep. All the trauma and suffering that I had endured leading up to and including the moments I experienced before waking up in the bed of the Society for Thyself probably warranted such a deep sleep. Rowan, Remy, Louise and Milton, still as caring as ever, were looking down at me with satisfied expressions. I knew that I have now been fully healed.
"Harriet," Milton began, "we believe you are cleared to leave. All of your physical injuries are healed. And we can also sense that your religious trauma has been cured as well." He was right. I noticed that I was no longer passionate about my religion. I only wished to ask more questions and receive more answers, even despite the fact that I didn't really have any at the moment. "We sincerely hope that you leave our care with a new state of mind, and hopefully others will follow." I hoped so, too. I still couldn't believe just how much of what I learned throughout my entire life actually made no sense at all.
I got up from my bed when I thought of one last thing. "I do have one more question," I began. This was probably going to be the hardest question of all to ask. "What do I tell my religious family and community when I arrive back home? I mean, you said it yourself. Their minds are consumed. There's no amount of reasoning that can cure them. Should I tell them the truth about what I learned here, or should I do the very thing that they've done to me my whole life, and that I would no longer dare to do, and lie?"
"Harriet," Remy began. "That is the one question we cannot answer for you. This is something you need to decide for yourself. Use this as your first opportunity to finally truly make a decision for yourself. But I will say one thing: you need to decide whether the answers you give your family should make them happy or make them aware of the truth. Sometimes happiness and truth are at odds with one another. Think about what you want for them and for yourself when you contemplate this decision. Do you want them to be happy, knowing you've 'succeeded' but having faith in yet another falsehood, or do you want to arm them with the truth even if they might kill themselves, or worse, kill you, with it?"
I knew that this would be a decision I'd have to think a lot further on. I've never been asked to truly make a decision for myself, without considering what God would think, ever before. But I knew that this was the best, and only, way that one should make decisions. I thanked the four of them by name for their care and enlightenment and turned to leave the room. As I took one last look at them, as well as the room and the bed that was my home for the past several days, I exited the room. My mission was over. But I had a new one to accomplish.