Immaculate Misconceptions Motionless In White

Walk Through the Valley of the Shadow of Death

The air was knocked out of him as a swift kick to his stomach woke him from his sleep. The ground was warm as result to the sun’s rays that streamed through the hole in the ceiling. In any other situation, it would’ve been comforting... But in this particular setting, it was mocking. As Chris pushed himself up from the ground, his breathing was unnaturally heavy and it was now that he realized just how weak he truly was. His fingers pounded with numbness and were twisted and cut up unnaturally. His skin was pale and leathery, stretched over his ribs that were beginning to show themselves (he was skinny as is, the lack of food only made it worse). His burns have yet to heal properly, adding a disgusting texture to his arms and thighs. He was almost skin and bones, his back covered in deep gashes bleeding and sometimes secreting puss.

He wasn’t bloated again... Charlie must’ve treated him at some point. Every movement hurt and his head felt heavier than usual. He could feel his heart pounding behind his eyes and out of instinct he reached up to rub the pain out of his temple. He hissed as his hands were met with sharp thorns that were embedded into his skull adding to the pain of his broken fingers.

The man who woke him seemed to laugh and made no movement to help Chris to his feet as he staggered. The new weight on his head made it hard for him to stay balanced in his fatigued state. He snapped his fingers and Chris was met with 3 large splashes of ice cold water which allowed some of the grime to vanish from his body but he began to shiver.

Everything moved quickly as two women with their faces and heads covered in hijabs wiped Chris down with soft sponges until his skin was spotless of dirt and dried up blood... Although their treatment did crack his burn scabs and reopen the hot wounds on his back. His hair was left alone, only having a few buckets of water thrown over it which made the crown move painfully. His pants were removed earlier leaving him uncomfortably nude but unable to do anything about it as the women wrapped a white cloth around his waist.

“Walk.”

The man commanded, pointing to the darkness at the far right of the space. Chris shivered, giving him a weak glare before he dragged himself forward in an odd limp. He walked like a zombie, his posture slightly bent over and his breathing ragged.

“Faster.” There was a loud crack and Chris cried out as the sharp leather licked at his calves causing him to fall forward as new gashes were open.

Chris crawled forward to gain momentum as he slowly pushed himself back up and staggered forward a few more steps before he regained any posture. He tried to walk a bit more faster now, he feared the crack of the whip on any other part of his legs. His stomach churned as the wounds that were opened during his “washing” bled. His body was beginning to be covered in dark red veins of blood that began to stain the cloth around his waist.

In a short few minutes he was greeted by a crowd of men, women, and even children. He was horrified as he looked into a child’s eyes and they stared back coldly. These people were insane. A part of him wanted to reach out and shake the child awake from this horrifying nightmare but he knew the child was lost... Lost to the ways of these people. There was no hope here.

There was no God here.

Only a mock silhouette of what they believed was God. The biblical beliefs and terms of a God have been twisted and tortured in this place to create something so dark as to justify what they were doing. They do not know God. They have forgotten God.

Chris tore his gaze from the child as his mother put an arm around her possessively. He refocused his attention on the Priest, Charlie, and Blue Jeans that stood in the middle of such a large crowd. He was horrified to study the men behind them, hammering feverishly at large slabs of wood that formed a large, heavy cross.