Converted

Complete Story

Though Christianity plays a huge role in this story, you do NOT need to be Christian to enjoy it. For a matter of fact, you don't have to be religious at all. If you like psychological thrillers and/or science fiction, this story is for you. Oh, and if you like the idea of a Christian and morally-questionable Tony Stark.

The characters may be biased towards Christianity or atheism, but I, as the author, am not. YOU get to decide who's the hero, anti-hero, and villain.

One last thing...Because Converted  is only a novella, which you can read in a single sitting, I thought it'd be okay to post the story as one part. It's divided by chapters, however.

Enjoy!

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ONE

Eyes, piercing and blue, stared back at David Wright. Throughout his life, he had been warned of the self-destructive nature of pride, but allowed himself to revel in the emotion just this once. The man in the mirror had accomplished much for one with the humblest of beginnings.

In the backstage of a grand theater, assistants, managers, agents, and many other people with different responsibilities frantically headed to where they were needed. A slim woman with a smartphone in one hand and a clipboard in the other stormed into David's dressing room. He spun around in his one-legged stool to face her.

"Wow," the lady said, coming to an abrupt stop the instant she beheld David. "I've never seen you without glasses. Or without bedhead. Or without a beard. I like your hair slicked back like that. You look nice. Really nice." She made a poor attempt to hide her flushed cheeks.

"Thank you, Bridgette. This occasion called for me to look far more presentable than I usually do, I suppose." For a moment, he thought it was her intention to only make small talk. He knew that was not the case when he noticed how she kept looking at her phone. "Oh. Is it time?"

"Just about. Approximately eight minutes to go."

"Understood. And I know I tell you this everyday but thank you for being a better campaign manager than I'd dared hoped for. I won the first time around thanks to you. Now I stand to earn my second term."

"You give me too much credit. It's been too easy because everyone loved you before we even got started. Well, good luck, Mr.President." She left the dressing room, giving him the remaining duration to further prepare.

Getting his nerves up, David exchanged another long stare with his reflection. He gave his tuxedo a once-over to check for dust and wrinkles. He hardly ever put so much care into his appearance—a testament to how seriously he was taking this event. As he always did when in need of help, he prayed. Dad, I've unintentionally given the entire world cause to believe I'm Mr.Perfect. We both know I'm not. I make countless mistakes every day. But for this night at least, please don't let me make any.

Undetectable by the vast audience, David patiently waited to the side of the platform for his best friend and vice president, Russell Gibson, to call upon him to take the spotlight.

Russell alone knew the depths of David's heart and mind. David stood 6'3'' and Caucasian. With naturally tan skin in addition to his blue eyes and jaw-length blond hair, Russell often joked that all else David needed was a shark tooth necklace to resemble a stereotypical surfer dude. Russell was half a foot shorter, almost always wore a buzzcut, and African American, his complexion like smooth creamed coffee. Other than their muscular physiques and the fact that no one would call either anything short of handsome, they did not have much in common aesthetically. The physical contrast between the two meant nothing before the indestructible bond they shared, however. They had been the best of friends since childhood, having met at a foster home.