ChronoNicles - Stories Beyond Time

Alex, Son of Andrew

Dragged by the collar, the priest couldn't muster a word. Choking he only thought of why he was being punished. Not by God, not by the law, but by a single hell hound sent by a paranoid old man.

"Don't worry Father O'Connor", the man dragging him through the middle of the empty church had a mixed of Irish and Scottish accents. "For I was sent here to cleanse this place, and you, from the impurity that has dirtied the name of God."

The face of Father O'Connor started changing colors. He was barely holding onto the last whiffs of air in his lungs, he knew his end was near, that he would meet his maker sooner than he thought. He accepted his fate and started reciting prayer after prayer in his head. When they reached the altar the tall Irishman with round glasses, clad in silver-colored cloak, pulled his collar one last time. With immense power the priest flew across the altar and hit the wall with holy relics in display. He started coughing and spitting blood, at the same time trying to catch a breath he so desperately needed.

"In the name of the one true God, do you confess to your degeneration Father?"

The priest didn't answer.

"In the name of his Son, Jesus Christ of Nazareth, do you confess your degeneration Father?"

Still no answer. Father O'Connor finally started breathing more naturally, but all he could hear in his head were his own prayers.

"In the name of the Holy Spirit, do you confess to your degeneration Father?"

As if in a trance, the Irishman reached inside his cloak, taking out two blades resembling bayonets. They had some words in Latin engraved on them.

"Unwilling to repent for your fucking sins I bestow upon you the judgement of God. He sees all, He knows all, He is all. You are not fucking innocent, Father. For it is your corrupt I claim, it is your evil that will be sought by me, with every breath I shall hunt them down. Each day I will spill their blood until it rains down from the skies."

Father O'Connor finally opened his eyes and looked up at his assailant. His spiky blond hair was glowing in the dim light of the moonlight creeping in from the stained glass window. His hands were covered in white gloves with a pentagram and other occult markings.

"Tell me one thing, Father", the Irishman stopped two steps away from the priest, still lying on the floor. "Was it worth it? Making a fucking deal with a fucking devil behind the Church's back?"

At this moment the priest realized what was happening. Five years ago after a disastrous war between Church and the last inhuman monsters of the world Father O'Connor was stationed in the northern Balkan region. It was a last stronghold overrun by the monsters, witches and other unholy creatures roaming the Earth since ancient times. The final battle was a sight too horrid to reminiscent, too terrifying to speak of, too violent to forget. And the creatures won. The last soldiers of Church, the Paladin Knights of the Pope himself, arrived too late. Everyone was slaughtered with the exception of a handful of priests and nuns hiding in the forest around the battlefield and the castle. One of them was Father O'Connor. When ten Paladins cleared the entire area of all kinds of monsters faster than the entire army held their own, the last group of monstrous beings tried to flee. They run into Father O'Connor and his small, exhausted group. The monsters looked human, talked human, but they were not human. Bending elements to their will, creating and destroying with inhuman unnatural powers. But they looked weak, just like all creations of the Lord. The monsters didn't attack, they begged the group of priests and nuns to let them through, promising they wouldn't hurt anyone again. Father O'Connor sensed that they meant no harm, and with the agreement of the others in his group they let the five humanoid monsters escape.

"They weren't... evil..." Father O'Connor finally spoke. With a hoarse throat and slightly damaged vocal cords his voice sounded distorted.

"Of course they're fucking evil! They are fucking abominations that needed to be exterminated! You bloody idiots in your big fucking churches can't tell a monster from a human even if they'd kill your sorry arse!"

Throughout these five years after the war Father O'Connor and some of the others that survived the Balkan siege together with him encountered these creatures living simple lives among humans, not harming anyone. They became part of the society, part of his community, some of them were even baptized by Father O'Connor himself. They were more human than the man standing before him.

"You're blind... *cough* following orders... like a trained *cough* dog..."

The Irishman raised his bladed arms and formed a cross from the bayonets. Father O'Connor said his final prayer in his head, he didn't have enough strength to do it aloud.

Then it was over. Priest's head rolled under the altar, the blood spilled on the carpet and the wooden floor. The silver rosary from Father O'Connor's neck fell into a puddle of red liquid. The Irishman stepped away from the corpse.

"In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen."

The blood still dripping from the blades left a trace from the altar to the main exit. The Paladin flicked it off the blades with a single swift vertical slice. The crucifix on a chain was hanging from his neck. He kept smiling the entire time.

"Fucking monster sympathizers."

As he walked out of the church he took out a small notebook with a cross from his inside pocket and crossed a name "O'Connor" from the list inside.

"Dirty traitors done. Now for a fucking main course."