The Spirit of Divine Redemption

Short story about unknown powers of the mind, hope you like :)

The chapel was aching, hinges hung on their peeks and the windows were starting to look like the walls. Like an ancient ruin it had majesty in its decrepit age, fragile and weak. Smoke, dirt and mist seeped from its cracks spilling onto the gravel like fountains. Weeds crawled the walls slithering the sides seeking sunlight, waiting the day they'd be struck down once again. Rain thundered down from the heavens, watering the land, and it’s inhabitants. The sun had descended hours ago on the chapel where inside kneeled Thesian seated at the altar satisfied with solitude. His years had forsaken his beauty but not hindered his wisdom. His eyes had seen the riches of earth’s temples and the cauldrons of its demise, and here he was, a "weaker wiser man" as he would state to his associates and acquaintances, the ones he held dear for reasons he had long forgotten. He was no religious man; his faith was in the faculties of whiskey, mystics and voodoo, not the tails of charms and amulets in desire of wealth but that of the Haitans and their desire for turmoil and torment, he had spent years researching the Louisiana vodou beliefs. It tickled his bones the thought of inducing pain on man whilst being absent. His burning wish however was that of not controlling the body but the mind, sorcery to indulge in and devour the power to demand thoughts and dreams. It was the most fun a man could have at his age. It was for this reason alone that he had come to the chapel on this eve, and the very reason Ruben was making haste towards the Cathedral Gates.

 

Thesian was the sole creator of the psychedelic cult long worshipped by the Yruba people of Toga, it was a damaged land, and its fields swept ash like tumble weeds through dry mountains and canyons, burnt with the fires of many dawns. Hounds would prowl the ruins sourcing river droplets. But like the Apachi tribes their morals and ethics were kept strong, Thesian had entered the land as a preacher to the apostles, and his word had been carved since. His name had not faired as well and was fading into a myth, with stories falling like the name of Jesus or Apollo.  In the early days of his elaborate plans and escapades he wished for a foundation to base his accolades on, he wished no identification or credit for it, it satisfied him to die anonymous with influences, while he indulged in pleasures of conformity.

He chuckled to himself as he thought of the Camdoble and Umbanda ways which were born of his designs. His stems had caused the thriving of new creeds. "Wanton excessive ligaments" he would tell with no approval in his tone. Only two men knew of his substantial impact on society and the implausible possibilities, the raw potential, dark potential of his creations. He had halted to share his involvement in the clique and ceased ever more to word its amplitude. For this reason only two men ever knew of its origins, the first was slowly withering away at the altar as the other, boots soaked in filth was just about to strike the shadowing doors.

                                                             

                           * * *

 

The thuds echoed around the hall to Thesian, his mind went blank, who the hell comes to god at this un-god like hour? He thought to himself reclining from his seat. He paced to the door saving it from yet another beating. He yanked it open, its stand uneasy,

“Hello” Thesian said glancing the intruder over “What?” The intruder stood strong with posture as if he had a silver spoon for a backbone.

“Evening, my name is Ruben P…” “Ah yes Ruben I have been expecting you.”

Ruben’s face dropped “Huh, no wait, we’ve never met” confusion filled his face and tilted his head as if one side was considerably heavier than the other.

“You’re right, get the f**k out” He said slamming the door only to be intervened by Ruben’s foot. Pain struck his face.

“Ehh err” he groaned “May I join you?”

Thesian looked at him, scanning his attire and style. “But of course”

Thesian remained perfectly still allowing Ruben to squirm past him. “May I offer you a beverage? There isn’t much” He said look through a cupboard at the back of the isle. “Oh wait, how about, blood of Christ, it is well aged?”

“That would be most kind thank you”

What a strange b*****d he thought, tittering around a chapel post midnight.

Thesian reached for the two nearest less shoddy glasses and a bottle of whatever from a rack at the back.

“You a religious man Thesian?” Ruben asked.

The ice was broken

“Ah hah, you know my name, impressive” he filled the first glass to the brim and continued with the other.

“Interesting but frankly… that’s more than you need to know…”

He filled the second glass as a little rolled over the edge.

 

“…And you could say I am” He said bringing the glasses over to the altar Ruben was standing next to.

“I often offer priced concessions”

He placed the glasses down.

“How very kind of you” Ruben said

“Well, you know, where there is guilt there’s money”

Ruben smirked “that’s my kind of business” he toasted.

“Big business, I’ve heard global”

“Well I don’t think it would go that far”

“Oh you underestimate the will of people without dignity, you got a light?”

“Huh, oh yeh sure” Ruben withdrew a battered box of matches from his coat pocket, his hands bruised and filthy. Thesian took it and paced over to the candles to cure the room of the dark.

 

 

Watching the dull glows spark up, a cord started to tingle in Ruben’s mind, if he was going to do this right he would need to get a grip, when was the right time to draw the gun he thought, it was poking his mind,

“Oh very romantic”

The gun dilemma began to surround his head.

Thesian cast a daunting eye over Ruben

“Anything for you…”

“So you do know who I am?”

“I have heard of you?”

“What have you heard?”

“Rumours”

“Can you tell me? I always learn things about myself I didn’t know”

“Maybe later”

“So you know my name, how did you know I would turn up?”

“I didn’t”

“I thought you hadn’t made much effort”

“I wasn’t expecting company”

“You’re alone?”

 “No, I have the liquor”

“Bit late for festivities isn’t it?” Ruben murmured

Thesian walked to either side lighting two candles and a third in the centre. Now Ruben was illuminated from the back, forming a silhouette and Thesian alike.

“I needed a place”

“A place for what?”

The third candle in the centre sparked up lighting Thesian’s lower face

“Oh, festivities, what sort of festivities?”

“The sort with intent”

“Intent on what”

 “Occupying time”

“Till what?”

“Till such time is over”

“Uh huh, by what means?”

“By most means”

“And when such time is over?”

“Then all purpose ceases, do you do this a lot?”

“Do what?”

“Ask questions”

“Maybe”

“Often?”

“Possibly, shut up…..  Answer the damn question, when this time is over….”

His patience was running thin with this linguistic joust. Both glasses remained motionless and untouched on the altar, as wax slowly started dripping from the candle, solidifying on the polished marble.

Thesian’s eyes tinged red as his blood turned sour, “Listen!” He shouted “When this time for potential ceases, the potential of time ceases, causing all purpose proceeds to become pointless! And all of your stature as a being becomes fragmented leading you to decay, like the predicament of a thespian forsaken an entourage and being stripped to an un-forged identity, all achievements become worthless, when time is over I will have nothing”

He sipped quickly a drop of wine

“I have become lurid and invisible against my surroundings but I maintain my sanity! No-one cares for me anymore” He took a step back into the shadow, his silhouette breathing deeply.

 

Ruben thought of drawing the gun, but ending like this would be unjustified he needed to choose a moment where he had the upper hand.

“I am here because it is the one place nobody asks questions, and nobody requires me, nobody wonders about the lost man at the altar.”

He paced back into the centre light, where he drank once more; Ruben’s lips were sealed, he could not forge a response, his head started bouncing questions, such as why tonight? Why leave your incredible history behind? And most importantly, the last question he was thinking, in his dazed and confused mind was what the f**k is Thesian on about?

Thesian slammed the glass to the ground as his teeth shone like spears in the light.

“You know exactly what the f**k I am on about!!!” Thesian yelled, lungs spilling fire

“You know why tonight, you know why!”

Things suddenly dawned on Ruben; Thesian smiled and let out a smirk

“You know… and I am not a strange b*****d! At least, it’s not the reason you want to kill me is it!?”

Ruben shuddered, the illuminated Thesian towered his eyes as his shivering hands gripped his sides.

 

“I know what you have come to do, and I know how…!” “You are the one- who brung- the gun. And why I presume?”

“But the one, who has brought the gun, has sung his last song, you have no idea what is possible, your beliefs elude you”

He stormed around the altar and grabbing Ruben and retrieving the gun from his pocket, to aim it at Ruben’s head which he clutched with his other hand.

“You do not know!” “And you shall never know” Thesian whispered before suddenly flicking around the gun towards his own body and pulling the trigger, the bullet slamming his body to the ground.

The gun slipped from his fingers to the chapel floor.

Ruben fell back, with his pounding heart shaking in his chest. He picked up the gun before brushing his damp hair back, and making his way down the isle to the door pushing it open. Beyond the door alleys where rustic and dimly lit.

He took a step outside and onto the grass before turning to Thesian once more, he could vaguely make out the body lying on the altar floor dripping.

“I come at this un-god like hour…..”