by C. Lariviere

Created on: April 23, 2009

"And Also With You"

I take his poor, huddled body into prayer. He must pray for forgiveness for his sins, pray like he never has had to before. He lifts his eyes to me, his superior and clasps his hands in desperation. High above me, candle flame illuminates the crucifix with celestial light, an ever-reminding icon of His ethereal presence.

'Our Father, who art in heaven,' the sinner begins. I turn my back to him and close my eyes, drawing on the Lord to give me strength for the task ahead of me. I pray

'Hallowed be thy name,' he continues. He is a sinner. No amount of fear can help him now. He cannot be saved. The corners of my mouth twitch upwards into the minute hint of a smile. I am about to do the Lord's work. I will do the Lord's work.

'Thy kingdom come, thy will be done '

There are tears falling from his face, creating dirty streaks as he feels the Devil in his very blood, as he feels the cold grip of Satan. The man knows what is to become of him and yet he prays still.

'In Earth as it is in Heaven.'

Part of me feels a sense of sympathy, a sense of pity for this blasphemous creature in front of me, but the feeling is quickly washed away by detestation. There are few in this world that are truly ever forgiven. Forgiveness in the mortal world nothingit doesn't exist. And this manhe believes he can get away with what he's done. He believes that he can pray his way out of it. All he must do is accept Jesus Christ as the Son of God, savior of men and it is finishedthis is what he thinks, I can see it in his eyes. How dare he think he can get off so easy when I have worked so hard to obtain the Lord's favor? I have lost count of how many I have personally delivered to the Lord Almighty, but when he calls for me, I will have a chair next to Him.

'Give us this day our daily bread,' he goes on. He has dissolved into sobs. The Hand of God is touching him and he does not like what he sees, 'and forgive us our trespasses'

I reach into my pocket and wrap my hand around the warm hilt of my dagger, my tool. For the fifth time in the past fortnight, I will do the biding of the Almighty. Sinners face the mercy of God and I present them to Him.

'As we forgive those who trespass against us,' he weeps. He is on his knees, his head bowed low in what he calls respect and devotion. He pauses in his prayer and looks at me with wide eyes. My face is impassive, apathetic. He eyes the dagger. He knows.

'Lead us not into temptation,' he cries. He tries to get away, but he cannotthe Lord does not want him to. I see my opportunity and I slash. One sharp movement is all he takes as he falls back to his knees. Blood pours from his neck, pooling on the wood below him as he grabs for something unseen.

'Anddeliver usfrom evil,' he whispers with his few remaining breaths, 'foreverand everAmen.'

He falls forward with a dull sound. I reach my fingers towards his wrist to feel his pulse. Absolute stillness. Satisfied, I wipe my hands free of his blood and move to the altar, kneeling for prayer.

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