Stuff of Nightmares: A Collection of Short Horror Stories

The God of Light

I have been watching him, seen his suffering since the funeral. I glance at the necklace in the folds of my robes. What a delicate creation, for the daughter now forever lost to him. I can help. Yes, indeed, I can.

"Come closer, my dear child. It's all right to cry. Our God of Light will heal your wounds. I can see the sorrow in your eyes."

His wretched face, his forlorn expression. If only he knows how many have walked his path. Yes, he needs me. He reeks of desperation and guilt, and has no way to protect himself.

"Our God will protect you. Tell me about your perils."

How contemptible. He reminds me of the old pastor; he, too, thought he knew what God wanted and he could lead us to him. He was a fool, not the chosen one, unlike I. Look at where that got him? Deserted by his own people.

"Oh, I see. Your poor daughter. Only five years old, you say. What of her mother? Also dead? Ah, I see. Scarlet fever and consumption. Two maladies all too common in this sinning human world, brought on by those who should have praised the Lord but neglected him."

He nods, silent. What a poor, ignorant soul. If only he knew all these could have been prevented. I can rescue him; the God of Light can cleanse him, and this village will regret their ridicule.

"My child, we all have to pay for their consequences. The people of this world act on their own selfish whims. They brought the darkness upon themselves. If only you had sought his help before it all happened. Did you pray daily? No, I didn't think you did. The Lord can tell. Did you condemn the sins and punish the heretics? This is why your wife and child had to suffer. You recall your accident at work that cost Joseph his arm? How about two years ago when famine claimed our land and the Joneses starved? Our village may consist of only two thousand people, but I know. You could have done something, had you been a true follower. You were not."

They all fall for it: the kind eyes, the soft smile, the understanding face. Their grief opens the ways to regret and guilt. I stroke the back of his hand. He weeps.

"You claim to love your family, but that is not true. If you truly loved them, you would have submitted under the God of Light. Your love is the devil's deception. Your daily life was for the devil's to manipulate. You need to realise this, or your family will suffer. Would your life not be better if you were clean?"

I wipe away his tear. He nods again.

"Join our brethren."

His eyes light up, like all of theirs do. Hope. The promise of redemption is honey to them.

"You are full of sins. You ate meat. You worshipped the devil by devouring the carcasses of other life forms. The Lord taught human life is not above that of other lifeforms. Your child was not blessed in the right way at birth. She was destined to suffer. The Lord taught us to bring peace upon the land, yet heretics like you wreak havoc. Your refusal to convert until now has caused your family to be damned to an eternity of suffering. The Lord's punishment is just: the flames of hell will turn the bones to dust, their tendons to vapour, their souls forever in agony."

Ah, the initial flicker of hope, crushed to nothingness at the thought of his daughter in eternal hell. I extend a hand, offering salvation.

"But there is hope. You see the light. A good child will return and pray. Leave now; think about your actions, and return."

Alone, tonight, he will think about his options, like so many before him. He has no options. A lifetime of solitude, or some semblance of repentance? Of course he returns, and after just one night. He admits to his wife's and daughter's sufferings for his sins and begs for forgiveness. Excellent.