protagonize: interactive fiction & collaborative story writing community
Get more out of Protagonize! Login or sign up as member.

Lest Ye Be Judged Yourselfmature

And so my children of God, I talk to you of vengeance.  I speak of the old Testament.  Some joke of firebrand preachers, warning of Hell and fire and brimstone.  But I say to you, I quote you, the words of God himself who spoke,      

“Give, and it shall be given to you. For whatever measure you deal out to others, it will be dealt to you in return.”

This is the word.  This is the word of God.  We do ourselves a great injustice when we count on our lawmakers to protect ourselves and our families.  I will remind you that

“Destruction cometh; and they shall seek peace, and there shall be none.”

My altar is no longer smeared with the Blood of Christ.  It is time we cleaned all of our altars of those that will cover His holy Earth in filth and pestilence.  I warn you now, all of you, that no one is safe from His wrath.  Heed this message and heed it well.

"I will deal with them according to their conduct, and by their own standards I will judge them”

My flock, we will no longer live amongst devils.    Let the drunken find humiliation.  Let the lustful be castred.  Let the gluttons burst in their own gravy.  I say to you all that the word of the Lord has not changed.

"Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath: Neither give place to the devil. "

Go now in the peace and the joy of the Lord.  Be wary of fools amongst you.

My congregation has become smaller since my sermons have clarified the truth.  Those who have left do not want to live God's way.  I am glad they have left my flock.

If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain.

It was his guttural laugh, his sigh of relief that day in the Confessional.  He insulted my vows and taunted me before the eye of the one true God.  My sadness and dismay turned to disgust and the Holy Spirit welled up inside of me.

She was dead already and could not be saved and neither could He.  He did not expect me two paces behind him.  His deliverance was swift.  A solid gold crucifix found its place on his forehead and with no time to gasp he crumpled to Hell.  "He only is my rock and my salvation: he is my defense; I shall not be moved.”  I do not miss the irony.

I write this story as the Word.  None shall remember or even find the lunatic who brought the dead whore upon my altar.  I am no vigilante nor a Dark Angel.  I am only a servant of God.   And I will bring deliverance in the form of Tongues.  

“Think not that I am come to send peace on earth; I came not to send peace, but a sword”

 


 

5.00
4

RATE THIS CHAPTER!

NOT YET RATED
Please login to rate this chapter!

RATINGS BREAKDOWN

POST A COMMENT

Wanna say something? Make yourself heard!
We reserve the right to delete spam, flames, or other nasty stuff.

Please login or register to post a comment.

15 COMMENTS ABOUT THIS STORY RSS

STORY TAGS

STORY POPULARITY

Liked this story? You might like this too:
excerpt from His House   by gothfindsgirl

RELATED STORIES RSS

BY THE SAME AUTHOR RSS

THE GOODS

Start writing now! Register for a free Protagonize account

STORY CATEGORIES

Support This Site

SPREAD THE WORD!