The Family Of God - chapter 5 + - WritingForums.com - Writing Forums, Writing Challenges, Critiques and Help for Writers

HippoHead · 01-29-2008, 05:26 PM

CHAPTER 5
THE BRONZE SHADOW
“How are we going to get any light in to penetrate this darkness?” Sylvia grumbled. “Maybe If I just stand up here and move over to - OW - okay, that’s not it. So maybe - ARGH - okay I’m just gonna sit h- OOF!”
“I think maybe you should just stand there and not do anything,” Miles implored. “I’ll get us some light. ’Cause I rule.”
“No you don’t,” Sylvia snapped.
“Why deny it, Sylvus?” smirked Miles. “We all know it’s troofax.”
“Gimme your matches,” she commanded.
“I haven’t got any,” he lied.
“Yes you do! You just don’t want to give any of them up… saving ’em for your cigarettes, much?”
Miles’s eye twitched. “Kudos to you, Sylvus. For that you get a matchstick. An outstanding prize, if I do say so myself.” He rustled a hand through his jacket and threw her a box of matches. Which she dropped. Which made Miles roll his eyes. Which made Doctor Jellybelly yawn. Which, bizarrely enough, made him fall over.
Sylvia chose to ignore this series of events. She took out a match and struck it against the side of the box. A tiny flame flickered into existence, barely invading any of the surrounding darkness. It lit up nothing but Sylvia’s fingers. She flicked the matchstick onto the floor petulantly.
Miles sniggered. “You know what’s funny, Sylvus?”
“What?!” she screeched a little too loudly.
Miles took immeasurable time before he answered. He savoured Sylvia’s frustration like it was life support. “You… trying to shed light… on a dark situation.” He goggled at where he guessed Sylvia was, so that he did not miss even a second of her pent-up rage. He only wished that he could at least see her expression, rather than just imagine it. To his disillusion, however, he sensed a diminutive smile unfold.
“Good one, babe.”
“No!” pleaded Miles. “Not ‘good one, babe’. Get angry! I need your fury for sustenance!”
“I know, babe.” She winked. “But I ain’t letting you have any of it.”
“Why?!” Miles interrogated. “You don’t need it. You don’t want it. I need to bathe in your anger. I love the taste of hatred that derives from another.”
Sylvia laughed. “You’re such a freak, Miles.”
“Sigh.”
Sylvia jabbed him in the chest. “This darkness is starting to get to me.”
“Nyctophobic, much?”
“No,” she argued feebly. ”I’m just afraid of the dark, is all.”
“Chucklesome, my weary dearie. To prove it, I shall give a hearty chuckle.” He cleared his throat and gave a wheeze instead. “Uhh… Not now. Soon, though!”
Sylvia gripped Miles, apparently using him as a human shield against the gloom. “Make it go away. Or I‘ll… beat you up.”
“Can’t,” he responded unhelpfully. “But maybe I could… For a - Doctor Jellybelly… would you please stop sniffing at my crotch? Thank you… Yes, so… I COULD make the darkness go away for that snazzy dressing gown of yours.”
Sylvia looked perplexed. “What, give it to you now?”
“No. In your own time, m’dear.”
“Can’t you do it for free?!” she whined. “I’m your besterest friend.”
“Ah. Yes. I COULD do it for free,” admitted Miles seriously. “But the effort required to do so is… y’know… bleh. The thought of owning that dressing gown, however, would give me a boost that would aid me in lighting this place up. Do we have an understanding?”
“I hate you so much, Miles Taurus.”
“Ha. You love me really, Sylvia Capricorn.”
Sylvia cleared her throat. “What do you want this dressing gown for, anyway? It’s a girl’s. I know it’d suit you, but it’s not actually mine. It’s my friend, Ethel’s.”
There was a short pause.
“Your friend’s name is ‘Ethel‘?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me,” Miles demanded, trying to keep the comicalness out of his voice. “How did she like things back in the fifties?”
“Don’t say that to her face!” Sylvia shrieked. “She hates her name.”
“I want to meet this intriguing girl. What’s her second name?”
“Aquarius.”
“An inevitability, really.”
“What do you mean?” asked Sylvia, confused.
“Nothing… just… kinda… noticed a pattern - it’s not important. So - that gown? Do we have a deal? I’ll find whatever light I can and you give that to me. My mum’s birthday is coming up, and I have to get her a fitting present out of cruel obligation.”
Sylvia hesitated. “This counts as your Crimbo present too, then.”
Miles puffed. “Very well. One can only have so many socks, anyway.”
“This year’s was going to be different,” she announced proudly. “I was going to get you these glow in the dark ones.”
Miles stiffened, his eyes wide with intrigue. “You talking about the ‘Radical Glowsocks’ brand from that cheesy, disturbingly happy-family advert?”
Sylvia nodded. “Mmhm.”
Miles looked unsure of which choice to make. “You’ve put me in an awkward place, Sylvus.”
“Well, make up your mind. This is taking too long. Get some light in here in the next five minutes, or there’s no deal… babe.”
“Treacherous hell cat!” Miles wavered his forefinger at her theatrically.
“Looks like you’ll have to use the candles scattered all over the floor,” Sylvia told him as she stumbled over them. “Aww. Look how many there are. It‘s gonna take you a looong time.”
“Nah,” Miles replied. “I’ll just turn on the light.”
“The-”
Miles flicked on the simple, household light switch next to the church’s doors. Luminosity flooded the room in less than a second. The beam so bright that they were both momentarily blinded.
“That’s cheating!” Sylvia attacked.
“It was not against the rules for me to turn on the light switch, dearie. You failed to specify the rules or fix any loopholes. Your gown is mine.” An evil grin draped over his face.
Sylvia, however, was not listening anymore. She had opened her pre-crinkled eyes and took to observing their surroundings.
Miles, noticing this stance, also eyeballed the interior of the church in awe.
A tatty, red carpet stretched from the doorway to the end of the church (which only reached thirty feet.) The walls, floor and pillars supporting the structure were made of ancient, gnarled stone. Two columns of benches had been placed on either side of the carpet. Only three, rather plain, wooden, two-seater benches had been placed down; one in front of the other. They looked dusty and unused. Discarded candles lay strewn over these and the floor. Their now hardened wax drooled onto the floor; their fires burnt out.
An archway had been built past these candles and benches. It contained a pedestal on the left, another on the right, and a table in the middle. This table’s white, hand-knitted cloth had a nasty, red stain embedded into the fabric. For hanging above it was a corpse.
The victim’s arms and legs had been impaled to each other. His face had a golden dagger planted so far in that it had come out of the other side of his head. It had been jammed right through to the stone wall behind him. This is how his executioners had supported him up into the air.
On either side of this dangling atrocity were two angel statues - beautifully crafted and ornately detailed. They were made entirely out of bronze. They had the usual trademarks of angels - magnificent wings and sacred halos. Their faces were small and innocent-looking, though they had not been designed with any pupils. Just empty, soulless eyes. They extended their arms towards the dead body as if nobly presenting it.
They wore streaming, sanctified robes that fell over their hands and feet. They had long, wavy hair reaching down past their shoulders. These angels were twins, Miles noticed. That, or the decorator had been unimaginative and could not be bothered to alternate the designs. He chose to believe the latter. For he was a creature of laziness.
Sylvia had gone a ghostly green. She could not take her eyes off of the body - it’s locked limbs made her go faint. The corpse’s face forever unidentifiable.
Miles did not seem as fazed by this as Sylvia. He gave the body a quick, slightly disgusted glance and moved forwards. His eyes were on the statues. He approached them warily like they were contagious diseases.
“What killed him?” Sylvia spluttered.
“Perhaps the stab in the face?” suggested Miles plainly.
Sylvia stared at Doctor Jellybelly - it was he who had brought them here. How did he know where to go? What was the purpose of choosing to bring both her and Miles?
“We’ve got to get out of here,” she told him wisely.
“What are they saying?” whispered Miles faintly.
Sylvia saw Miles next to one of the statues. She jumped back an inch. The statue was no longer in its original pose, but bent over, with a hand cupped over it’s mouth. It’s lips were parted slightly as if sharing a dark secret with him.
“How did it get like-”
“Shh,” hushed Miles. “I can’t hear what it’s saying.”
“’Saying‘?!” Sylvia quoted incredulously. “It isn’t ‘saying’ anything, Miles!”
When he did not react, she stormed over to him, only to be transfixed by a strange whispering. The other statue next to her had bent over like the other one, talking quietly in her ear. Speaking so softly, she was sure that only she, herself could hear it; like it was speaking into her mind rather than her ear.
“Oblivious to what you desire, we can eliminate your ignorance. Dreams that you’ve always wanted, but never had are achievable. Dreams you’ve never dreamed will be dreamt, and those will be achievable, too. Your soul will be untarnished and we can make you whole. We are your deepest desire, your secret passion, and your twisted hope. Surrender yourself to us, and all you ever want will come to be.
“On the holiest of hallowed blessings, we speak truth and no lies. The impact overwhelmed upon you will result in no negatives. Trust yourself in our hands and we will cradle you like a luminous child. Let our wings be your guide, and may you find strength and purpose through them.
“We ask for only one thing in return for eternal salvation: conversion. Conversion to The Family Of God. The one, true religion; if not religiously, then evolutionarily. We alone, stand as one to better the world. A place of peace and fearlessness. Help us achieve this dream, Sylvia. Convert yourself to us. Swear your allegiance… or we’ll take it by force. What say you?”
Sylvia did not understand what just happened. But she assumed that perhaps this statue had just stuck a deal with her. At first she wondered how this thing could be talking to her. Was she mad? Surely not… Miles said he had heard from the other statue first.
The Family Of God apparently had some of the most revolutionary technology in the World. Talking statues must be an easily achievable feat. Yet it seemed wrong - it was not merely a talking statue. It saw into her mind and tried to tempt her into becoming part of the cult. The Family Of God were blatantly controlling the statues.
How stupid did they think she was? These people were blood-lusting barbarians. It must be a trap. They had not been particularly kind in asking for her assistance - they had threatened her. She found all this rather frightening.
She looked back at the statue. Her heart skipped several beats. In the split second she had not been looking, it transformed it’s pose into a leaning stance, one hand cupped over its ear, listening intently.
Feeling slightly awkward, she said softly into it’s ear “no,” wondering whether it would have any effect.
Miles had re-appeared next to her, looking harassed. His angel was in a praying stance, it’s hands placed together and its head bowing down.
Sylvia indicated silently for Miles to explain all this when a look of petrified fear surmounted onto his face. He was looking past Sylvia, and at her statue.
Bemused and worried, she followed his sight and back at her own angel. Which was no longer an angel - but a bronzed demon. It had two short, needle-tipped horns on its oval head, sharp, shark-like teeth, and a long, pointed tail extending from it’s crooked spine. It’s eyebrows were furrowed and it’s expression furious. It’s hands had evolved into huge clamps bearing strikingly long claws.
Sylvia stumbled backwards, which Miles copied in a more exaggerated manner. There was no time for any humiliation, however, as they were both equally zealous to get away from the statue as quickly as possible. They exited the church without taking their eyes off the statue, which continued to leer terrifyingly.
Outside, the two of them breathed heavily. The relief was not to last, however, as the same brutish gorilla from earlier stared them down scornfully from a nearby tree. It roared at the sight of them and pounced through the air - propelling through the sky as if in the middle of a powerful moon jump. It came down, down, down… nearly on top of them… Sylvia felt an icy, yet burning thin hand rest on her shoulder. A storm of painstaking cold and unbearable heat gushed through her body simultaneously.
The pain only lasted a second, but the intensity seemed to stretch it out forever. When she felt like she could take no more, she collapsed, leaving Miles alone with a heavy, insane gorilla and an unknown, elemental attacker.

HippoHead · 01-30-2008, 03:43 PM

retirement!

there's not enough people reading this to urge any sort of obligation into editing and posting a chapter a day. i'll post up the upcoming chapters less frequently - got too much going on atm to spend time on this when no-ones bothers with it anyway xD

coming who knows when: AMNESIA

see y'all later :}

HippoHead · 01-30-2008, 03:45 PM

will post less frequently
don't feel obligated to bother with a chapter a day
chapter 6 coming up some time into the future!