Co-post--Atonement ceremony
The sun was just on its last rays of light before it set and the cool emotion filled night of Atonement was to begin in Endver. Torches lined the streets, and every house and store was being cleared by the guards before Yosemite and Aidan locked each door and window tight. No one sat out the Atonement Ceremony even if they had to be dragged out of their house in shackles or on a sled.
This was the night everyone purged themselves and the town was wiped clean for another year. Food was being cooked on multiple barbecue pits and kegs of ice cold water and sacred wine were being dragged up from the root cellars of the church. While most of the restaurants and the like served alcohol it was usually bathtub brewed or traded so the quality was lacking. But the Sacred Wine was a closely guarded secret that only Aidan and Theo knew about. There were no vineyards in Endver, but rumors persisted they used the underground springs and deep welled water to grow the rare grapes needed to make the wine. It was as sweet and clear as could be imagined and the alcohol content was enough to dull the people's senses for the Atonement, and make their lips loose so it was easier to get their sins out of them.
A band played various hymnals and casual chatter began bubbling around the Ceremony grounds. The grounds themselves were the large open courtyard of the church. Large bunches of vibrantly colored flowers bloomed all over the patch of green. Various statues and reliefs filled whatever nooks and crannies they needed to. In the middle of the courtyard was large stage made of beautifully stained wood. Two large wooden posts were erected at the back near the church and set exactly between the posts was the dangling body of Jackal. He was kneeling and dressed in the white clothes the guards had brought him, but the shirt was left wide open so the crowd could see the freshly bleeding crosses that were carved into his chest, marring his flaming cross tattoo some. His arms were stretched out and tied to the posts. In the middle of the stage was a large alter and podium decked out in gold fabric. The podium wasn't anything special, but the cross in the alter wasn't the same kind of cross as the lawman had tattooed on himself. It was canted off to one side and black as night, and instead of the gently squared points they were sharp and spear.
It looked a twisted version of the true cross, like the cult of Theophyllis and Aidan was a twisted version of the true faith they claimed to follow. Jackal kept his eyes listless and uninterested, but behind the clouded visage burned the cold rage he showed in the Salt Flyers camp.
It was the back of the kneeling man that the line of atoners saw as they were led past the tables and chairs set up in the auditorium and out through its doors into the yard. There were ten in all, the last of the confessors to be heard before the grand finale. Each had suffered many sins, and their punishments would be viewed not only by Theo and Aidan, but also by the entirety of the town. They were brought to the stage and ordered to stand between slender poles that were arranged in a line before the podium. Far to the right stood Ezra, her face impassive as she stared straight ahead, trying her best to avoid looking at the fresh wounds on her lover's chest.
As soon as they were situated, Theophyllis came to the stage and took his place behind the podium. Dressed in a white satiny robe with gold trim, he raised his hands to call forth his flock and opened the night's events with a prayer. Heads were bowed as he spoke, his voice silky smooth as he blessed all those in attendance. When his head lifted, the first of the wine was poured, each patron offered a glass despite their age. Tonight all were equal in their suffrage.
Even with the undertone of impiety, it seemed an affair of great celebration. The hymns played on and food and drink continued to be offered to those who were about the grounds. Only those on the stage were omitted, their one alcoholic beverage their only respite. One by one those of lesser sins were admitted to the stage, their declaration of wrong-doing heard by the preacher and their wage of atonement assigned. For Ez the wait was the worst, her gaze falling to Jackal despite her futile attempts to spare herself the pain of his injuries. He seemed as unresponsive as he had been when she last saw him and she could only look upon his battered body and hope there was still a spark of life left in him.
As the repenters prattled on Jackal actually wished he was still in the suspended animation he was a few hours ago. At least then he wouldn't have to listen to the townspeople's confessions. Theophyllis was at the podium holding up the bible he stole off Jackal, misquoting and consciously twisting passages to suit whatever bastardized sermon he was spewing while Aidan was in charge of administering the punishments, whatever they were. The townspeople gazed at him like some kind of idol and it sickened him. All night he'd been in the front row listening to things as stupid as a child confessing to stealing a pie and being punished by a spanking with a baker's paddle, to the grave confession of the Murder of a trader for their stock of whiskey. That man was forced to walk barefoot over ten broken bottles of whiskey. Jackal was surprised the guy made it to the end before passing out and being carried away by guards standing in the wings.
But from what he could gather these last ten were the worst of the worst. The sinners who crimes put them on par with the guards, Aidan, and Theophyllis. But Jackal knew he'd never see them confess, not without a blade pressed against their throats. As the final Confessional began Jackal took one last dead-eyed stare at Ez, finally realizing why she had come back when he sent her away. She was going to confess to these monsters to try and save him. Sadly he knew those two clowns wouldn't keep their word, Silver Bear's words kept playing over in his mind. But he still couldn't grasp what they meant.
The first sinner approached and pulled his shirt off. He already sported a few different wounds. He seemed to be a repeat offender.
Theo began raising his voice high and proud like he had done all night. "Martin Kline! Confess your crimes!"
Martin looked up at Jack the words Adultery smudged across his forehead in charcoal. "I...comm...committed Adultery!"
The crowd gasps lightly and Theo continued. "With whom!"
"I cheated on my wife with a woman from the Salt Flyers!"
"SINNER AND FRATERNIZING WITH AN INFIDEL! BRING FORTH THE BRAND OF THE BROKEN HEARTED!" Martin was dragged forward facing the crowd now as a woman approached carrying a long rod with the red hot brand of a heart with a line through it. Her eyes were puffy from crying and as she jammed the red hot rod into the man's chest, tears fell freely from her face, but they didn't look like the tears of anger, more tears of sorrow. Martin howled in pain as the brand marked him, he fell backwards unconscious before the guards dragged him away.
In the second spot, a man with a large girth stood trembling, his jowls animated almost comically. Aidan approached him, blowing smoke from a lit smudge stick into his face. A "G" for gluttony was drawn onto his forehead as Theo called from the podiumÂ…"Confess your sins Marshall Peabody!"
"I...have...not...sinned," came the tearful plea.
With a smile, Aidan tore open the man's white shirt, exposing the man's round belly. "You are guilty of the sin of excessive eating. While others go hungry, you fill your stomach will rich desserts. Do you deny this sinner?"
Marshall shook his head. As the owner of the only bakery in town, he had access to all of the sugary confections that he baked. With tears running down his cheeks, he swallowed loudly then lowered his eyes.
"I am a glutton."
"GLUTTONY, one of the seven deadly sins," called Theo. "May God have mercy on your soul...as I will not. You shall give a pound of flesh for your gluttonous ways."
As Aidan's hands secured Marshall's to the poles on either side of him, a guard stepped forward with a scale and set it near his feet. He withdrew a slender knife from his belt and nodded to the leaders before grabbing a thick handful of fat from the bellowing man's belly.
"One pound of flesh," he said as he made his first cut and dropped it onto the scale.
The screams cut out all other noise and Ezra found herself looking to Jackal for strength, his last glance offering her little hope. With a sigh of resignation her eyes dropped and she fought the dizzying sensation building in her head. Swaying, she grabbed the poles on either side of her with a white knuckle intensity, only her anger fueling her as she held herself steady, mentally counting the seconds before she could bring hell to the true sinners. This was not Atonement, it was cruelty, sadistic and merciless.
Once Marshall had been carried away, Jackal looked away from the jiggling pile of man flesh sitting on the scale. None of the sinners looked particularly happy to be up there. But next up was a woman with pale skin and black hair, across her forehead was E for Envy.
"Katniss Fairgreen confess your crimes!"
The woman did not say anything she simply stared at Jackal as if expecting him to do something. But soon the woman spoke. "I am envious."
"Of what!" Theo shouted loudly.
"I...envied...my neighbor's beautiful garden... so I ripped up all the plants and moved them to my garden."
"ENVIOUS THIEF, BRING FORTH THE KNIFE OF PERCEPTION!" Katniss was dragged away, her eyes an emerald green color, the lawman saw sadness behind them. But as she was dropped down beside the podium Aidan came forward with a long razor blade. He delivered two quick slashes over the woman's right eye, her screams pierced the air and her blood joined the countless droplets of others that had turned the front of the stage into a slick mess.
She was dragged off the stage like the others with the right side of her face bleeding profusely. Aidan hadn't removed the woman's eye, but he made sure she'd never use the right one ever again.
The next sinner was literally dragged up from his spot by two guards. His arms were bound in front of him and he was fighting the guards as they dropped him harshly on the ground. Wrath was written across his forehead.
"Alexander Deltorro! Confess your crimes!" Theo shouted brandishing Jackal's bible at the snarling man.
"THE ONLY THING I CONFESS TO IS JUST BREAKING THE FACE OF THE FUCKER WHO VIOLATED MY DAUGHTER I SHOULD'VE RIPPED HIS FUCKING HEAD OFF!"
Unflinchingly Theo turned to the crowd and shouted. "WRATHFUL SAVAGE, BREAK THE OBJECT WITH WHICH HE ASSAULTED A TOWN GUARD!"
Like before the man was dragged forward and forced onto his face while a guard knelt down on his back. Alex fought violently, and he was a large guy. But a second guard sat down on his legs and a third guard yanked his arms forward. Aidan approached with a large sledgehammer, lining it up with both of the struggling man's arms and in two powerful swings he shattered them both. Mr. Deltorro roared in pain and rage, fighting even harder to get the guards off of him, but a cattle prod jammed into the side of his head knocked him out and allowed a guard to carry him away.
There was unrest from the remainder of the ten posed on the stage, murmured prayers whispered from some, while others looked ready to dart. Ezra had shut herself off, clearing her mind of all thoughts so she could float in the oblivion of nothingness. Sound was lost...as was sight...her eyes open but unseeing. It was a survival mechanism...one which allowed her to prepare her body for trauma, whether it be mental or physical. And it was thus she remained in a meditative state as the next victim was brought forth to the butchering block.
"RACHEL KIM YOU ARE ASSIGNED THE SIN OF SLOTH! TO SERVE IN GOD'S HOUSE ONE MUST PUT FORTH THEIR WEIGHT IN SWEAT! Show her the penance for her wasted hours!
The dark haired woman tried to remain stoic, but as the guards grabbed her arms and forced her to her knees she began to beg for mercy.
"God will have mercy on your soul only AFTER you have atoned." Theophyllis lifted the leather bound Bible and thumped it on the podium. "Make haste! There are others that await my cleansing."
A basket was strapped upon the back of the terrified woman and one by one the people of the town were urged to place a rock inside it. Those that refused were struck across their hands with a whittled stick, the few sufferers insuring the rest would comply. It was only when Miss Kim dropped to the stage's planks and begged for mercy again that she was relieved of her burden.
..and then the next sinner was brought forward.
"Andrew Cornwall what is your sin?" the elder preacher asked with the slightest hint of a smirk on his lined face. A "B" was drawn on the man's forehead in the ash of the smudge stick, his eyes clouded over with the early onset of cataracts.
"I know not, most esteemed leader," the man said, his voice pitching wildly.
"You do not know your sin? Or perhaps you have forgotten?"
When there was no answer, a man wearing a heavy leaden apron and gloves came forward with an iron rod, the tip of which was glowing a brilliant red. After being given a nod from the preacher, the blacksmith pressed the tool of pure cleansing to the man's back, a high pitched scream his reward.
"DO YOU REMEMBER NOW?"
"Please Theo..."
"You dare call me by name...you blasphemer...a sinner of the worst kind. You have betrayed your friends...your family...the leaders of this blessed town. And to what end? For a single piece of gold you spouted forth the secrets of the hot springs and brought the foul waste-landers to our gates."
The rod was once again pressed to the man's back, his screams becoming frantic when his shirt caught fire.
"Let him burn!" The words were picked up in a chant from around the stage, guards stomping their feet in excitement. A rough kick sent the poor sufferer off the stage and into the courtyard. It was only after his body dropped to the ground in a smoldering pile that the proceedings continued.
With each sinner punished it became harder and harder for Jackal to play the broken man card. Anger boiled up inside of him, this ceremony was a mockery of true repentance. The bloody display more akin to the very ancient pagan religions than what they were trying to sell. Belief should not built on a foundation like this. Blood does not need to be spilt to gain forgiveness, simply asking for it and working towards never sinning again was all that was needed.
But Theo and Aidan were like every other savage warlord Ragged America had spat out. They lusted for power and were more than happy to lie, cheat, steal, and kill to keep it. How many innocent lives had they ruined? How many good people died under their rule? This was why he needed to get out of here and find the Lost Mountains. Whatever the treasure was it'd be better than this...he was sure of it. As his contemplation grew deeper he felt the cold rage from the Salt Flyer Camp growing up inside of him. His eyes cleared for a few seconds and he stared at Ezra hoping her plan worked, because once he let the demon out he wasn't sure he'd be able to protect her from himself.
The next sinner was dragged forward, a woman again. This one was older and she had a very aristocratic look about her. Her white outfit was a little more elaborate than the others, closer to the old world ball gown and her hair was a snowy gray color, but held up in a high Duchess bun. Unlike the other sinners she hadn't cowered or been praying on her knees this whole time. She stood tall and unflinching. The lawman couldn't tell if she had come to terms with her punishment or was just too snooty to think any of this would matter. She knelt before the altar and bowed her head, the very picture of queenly reserve.
Theo, far beyond composed after all the bloodshed and excitement, shouted just as he had done the entire night. "Margaret Thatcher! Confess your crimes!"
With out missing a beat the old woman looked up and spoke as coolly as could be. "Pride." Was all she said...she didn't think anything else was needed.
Theo...enraged by her lack of reaction added more. "FAR MORE THAN PRIDE OLD HAG! YOU REFUSED TO STEP ASIDE FOR A GROUP OF SOLDIER ON THEIR WAY TO DRAG IN A MURDERER OF A GUARD! YOUR PRIDE ALLOWED THE KILLER TO ESCAPE TOWN WITH YOUR NEIGHBOR'S BLOOD ON THEIR HANDS!"
Margaret scoffed and stood up moving towards the punishment spot of her own accord. "I didn't think, letting the brother of an abused young boy take his revenge was something I needed to topple my basket of fruit for. They were the ones who thought it wise to march through my garden, that need I remind you is not even half the size of this stage. There was a perfectly good street no more than five feet away."
Aidan struck the old woman across the face, and despite herself she let out a pained yelp as the blow fell. "Be quiet crone, accept your punishment!" A pair of rusty scissors and a knife were brought onto the stage and between Aidan and another guard the old woman's head was roughly shaved, her gray locks falling like rain all around them before the wind picked up and blew them all away. Lastly, X's were slashed along her face and hands disfiguring this one queenly woman. She remained silent while her hair was cut and ripped from her head, but tears began falling as they took the knives to her.
After five minutes Margaret was bald and bleeding upon the stage. But aside from the tears of pain her face and demeanor were calm and collected. She was roughly shoved off stage and one of the last Sinners were brought forth. Like Margaret he was an older person, large in stature and belly, and with a shiny bald head. Jackal could hear the fabric of the man's clothing creak as he was forced to kneel. "Greed" was written across his forehead.
"William Granger! Confess your crimes!" Theo shouted one last time.
William snorted. "You fuckers call it Greed...I call it good business sense."
Ignoring the last part Theo turned back to the crowd holding the bible high as if about to call down lightening from the sky. "YOU STOLE HOLY ARTIFACTS FROM THE CHURCH! AND HAD THE GALL TO TRY AND SELL THEM BACK TO US!"
William stood up and laughed. "IT AIN'T MY FAULT YOUR LITTLE WEASEL OF A GUARD CAPTAIN HAS STICKY FINGERS! AND I SAW THE CHANCE TO MAKE SOME CHIPS TO PAY FOR YOUR FUCKING TAXES!" Aidan swung hard with a long board and knocked the larger William off his feet before the guards dragged him to the stage and forced him to kneel once more. Aidan had thrown down the board and picked up a large flat bladed axe. William fought back against the guards, but his left hand was yanked forward harshly nearly ripping his arm from the socket. But before the big man could yell Aidan's axe came down and cleaved the man's entire hand from his wrist.
The blood shot out like a geyser and William was thrown backwards howling in rage and pain. The man's yell only increased as a hot branding iron was jammed into his wound, cauterizing it and stopping the blood flow, filling the entire stage with the stench of even more burned flesh. He was then dragged off leaving just one more sinner before it would be Ezra's turn.
Theo's rheumy eyes fell on the next atoner with undisguised hate. Unlike the others, this man didn't have letters or a word smudged across his forehead. Instead, an inverted cross had been cut deeply into his skin and black ash had been rubbed inside. A young man of only twenty-two, Philip Bentley had his eyes closed in silent prayer as he was dragged to the podium by two guards.
"WHAT IS YOUR SIN?" cried the red-faced accuser. "TELL THE GOOD PEOPLE OF THIS TOWN JUST WHAT IT IS YOU HAVE DONE!"
Philip's eyes opened and he adjusted his gaze to meet those of the town's religious leader. It was obvious he had been crying, but his voice was steady and strong when he spoke. "I do not pray to the God you worship. My God is merciful and just. He helps his flock with a guiding hand, not a sword of evil. You are the devil! Your God is Satan and you will rot in Hell!"
The old man's face fumed with anger, the Bible in his hands slamming down on the podium as he spoke, emphasizing his words. "YOUR SIN IS WORSHIPPING A FALSE IDOL!! THIS MAN IS A HEATHEN! HE PRAYS TO A DIFFERENT GOD, BUT THERE IS ONLY ONE! YOUR PUNISHMENT IS DEATH! YOU DESERVE NO LESS THAN A PURE CLEANSING!"
Philip did not resist as he was dragged back to the slender poles, his hands securely tied to them as he closed his eyes once again and began to pray. A glowing brand was driven against his body, his screams punctuating each strike, but his lips continued to move in supplication to his God. When the flames started and spread across his lithe form, his bonds burned through and he slumped to the ground, no further sound heard from him as he perished in the blaze.
It was at that moment that Ezra's eyes opened to the carnage. She might have avoided hearing the screams of the damned, but there was no escaping the aftermath. Blood was pooled on the scorched stage, and the remains of at least one man still smoldered. Blinking rapidly, she took in a deep breath as she continued to look around, only to see Aidan walking towards her. It was her turn.
Not bearing any mark on her forehead, Ez was brought forward to stand in front of Theophyllis like the others before her. The man regarded her with open amusement, then cast his gaze behind him at the bound gunman. Silence...then a clearing of his throat.
"Ezra-Rayne Bastian. You have been brought to us from the unforgiving wastelands, back to your home for judgement. Your sins are many, and while you deserve nothing but the strongest hand of God to punish your soul, I have been asked to be lenient, so that you may give back to the church in servitude. A request that I will honor despite my misgivings.
So, tell me...WHAT ARE YOUR SINS?"
The scavver took a deep breath and held it, her attention turning to Jackal briefly before she addressed the pastor. She had been warned to be forthgiving...to tell ALL her sins or her deal with the younger leader would be forfeited...and her friends...and family...would suffer the consequences. She had rehearsed in her head numerous times, but finding the courage to speak aloud was hard...
She breathed out.
"I am guilty of excessive drinking...alcohol of any kind...and I am a thief...a scavver...but I have taken more than just artifacts. I take what I want...more than I need...and sell the rest."
She swallowed hard, her shoulders rising with her next intake of breath, her eyes shifting to the crowd. "I had a child when I was barely more than one myself...and I sold her. ...and just as predicted, I continued to use my body for gain, many times over. I am also a killer of men, for defense, but also for revenge. The blood of many is on my hands."
It was getting harder for her to breathe, her heart pounding in her chest as an acidic fluid crept up her throat. Her eyes burned. Her stomach flipped. What she had done was no more than many others in the name of survival, but her guilt weighed heavy on her as she forced herself to continue. "I killed my mother...I betrayed her...and..."
She couldn't get the rest of the words out, her eyes filming over as she tried to hold back the tears. She held her place, trembling not in fear, but with the memory of putting her pistol to her mother's head.
"That's enough," Aidan said, nodding to Theo who then placed his hand upon the podium and leaned forward.
"Ezra, you will atone for the sins of GLUTTONY OF DRINK, GREED, LUST, BETRAYAL, AND WRATH. Bring out the sacrificial dagger."
Hands clamped onto her arms and the scavver tried to pull away from them instinctively, getting herself under control only with difficulty. She only had to take the punishment and then it would be over. The pain would subside. She struggled inwardly, but managed to walk of her own accord between the two guards as they brought her before a small table.
"Right or left?" Aidan asked.
"I don't..."
Her left palm was thrust flat on the tabletop before she could finish, a startled cry escaping Ezra's lips as an ornately etched silver blade was driven through her hand, pinning her. As crimson blood trickled from her hand, several bottles of the cherished red wine were set before her.
"Drink."
She shook her head, confused as to what they wanted from her, although the command was clear enough.
"Drink the wine whore."
Bringing the bottle to her lips, she started to pour it into her mouth, Aidan's hand lifting the bottom higher and causing the contents to spill down the front of her dress. Ezra pulled back and her gaze met with Aidan's, a red fury building in her that she barely pushed down.
"You will drink until you purge."
When she did not comply immediately, Aidan twisted the dagger, driving it deeper into the wood and widening her wound. She did not honor him with a whimper, her teeth gritting against themselves with the pain.
"You will drink...and now. Bring the child."
A scream came from the crowd as a small child was dragged from her mother's arms. Ezra recognized the doe-eyed girl, her dark hair pulled from her face in a pony-tail. Tania.
"No," was all she said before she put the bottle back to her lips and drank. She barely took a breath as she swallowed the liquid, her stomach starting to churn as the second one was emptied. When the urge came to vomit, she turned her head, the frothy red-tinged bile spewed onto Aidan's white robe in a jet.
Her head rocked back with the slap that was delivered, but already her next punishment was on its way. Her head was grabbed on either side by the guards and Aidan took a handful of her disheveled hair, the bun and spray of flowers unraveling in his grip.
"Her face," he said, "..the little bitch is going to think of me every time she looks in the mirror."
The brand was in the shape of the letter "M" and Ezra fought against the men that held her, to keep it from touching her face. When she felt the heat against her cheek and heard the sizzle, she jerked, nearly screaming, her movement causing the mark to elongate, creating a shadow-like extension.
When her right hand was placed on the table, she gave up her struggles, her body sagging and all the fight going out of her as another brand was pressed into her skin. A capital "B" for betrayal. As Aiden stepped away Ezra lifted her gaze to look at Jackal, her vision blurring as she stared at his face. Too much drink...and stress...she was starting to fade.
"LUST! BUT WHAT ABOUT HER LUST?" The preacher's voice burst out, his words pulling Ezra out of the fugue state she was slipping into. "Her lover...her fake husband...the man she had fornicated with for so long...he will take her last punishment onto his self. BRING HIM!"
The scavver shifted her gaze...Eustace...she had to locate the man. She tugged against the blade restraining her, but it was futile. There was only one option...because it had to come out. The fire had been in Jackal's eyes...his rage...it would happen soon.
She gave the anticipated nod and reached for the blade pinning her down just as Jackal's hands were being untied. The dagger rocked back and forth in her grip, her teeth grinding together as she felt it loosen from the wood.
"Get down!" she yelled to Tania, the girl standing stock still on the stage in fright.
The knife came free and Ezra fell back, Tania dropping to her belly as instructed. Aidan's head came up in shock. Theophyllis roared.
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As the last sinner was brought forth and his crimes known, Jackal dropped the façade of being broken. One of the very few believers left in this fucking wasteland and he was being accused of idolatry and burned alive. For believing in the real message of the bible, about a just and caring God. Sure He punished the wicked, but only when they had thrown away every chance He gave them to be better. The God Jackal knew loved his children so much that he never gave up on them until they had passed into the afterlife.
And even then when the Rapture came, they would be given a second chance to join him in paradise. Only the truly evil would stay in hell when God came calling to them. His arms tensed up and he heard the ropes and posts groaning against the new tension. Jackal's rage was on the cusp of ripping his arms from the sockets, to get free and rip these False Men to pieces with his bare hands and teeth.
And by the time Ezra's punishment came, the lawman was gone. His eyes were flat, but burned with the cold rage that always lingered just below the surface. With only years of discipline keeping it in check, some had asked what his secret was to ignoring pain and easily slipping into an explosive rage. And he always gave them the same answer. His secret was...he was always angry.
He endured watching the woman he loved being tortured, his body heating up with anger and the binds around his wrists groaning more and more, the posts even beginning to bend inwards slightly as the woman was stabbed through the hand, forced to drink wine until she threw up, then branded twice. So when the time came for him to take her punishment for lust, he had a plan ready. It'll possibly be the last rational thought he would make until this town was a pile of ash on the horizon. Vash was too far away for him to signal the massive beast to his aid...this would be his rage...and his rage alone.
His face didn't flinch as he heard Ezra's cries of pain. But as soon as his hands were free he let out a bestial roar, making the guards who had untied him jump out of their skins. And whether Jackal knew it or not, his yells would be the signal of the revolution Becca and her rebels were waiting on. From throughout the crowds similar yells were heard as the hidden rebels attacked. While the ceremony had been going on at least half of the guards outside of the Ceremony grounds were quietly dispatched and replaced with guards loyal to the Rebels. They quickly fired their guns, killing even more of the guards that hadn't been replaced. Then from the heart of the confessed sinners, people charged and began beating the guards within the courtyard to death before stealing whatever weapons they could to press the remaining men loyal to Theo and Aidan. Not all of them succeeded, but this was all white noise to Jackal.
Silent as the grave, Jackal grabbed the nearest guard and snapped his neck before the man could even reach for his sidearm. Never slowing down the enraged lawman grabbed the dead man's body and spun on his bare heel, hefting and throwing the body at his nearest comrade. The speed with which the man hit him caused the other guard to lose the gun he had drawn. It was quickly picked up by a rebel and began adding to the death toll. Pressing his attack Jackal slammed his hand into the man’s throat, the meaty section between the thumb and forefinger acting like an axe blade crushing the man's airway and stifling his scream. As his dead ally smashed him into the right post of the stage, the beam snapped like a tree branch and crashed down upon the bodies of the two men, killing the second one on impact.
Despite only a few seconds passing, everything was moving in slow motion for Jackal. Ez was free, and Aidan...the sole object of Jackal's rage...was before him, all civilized bravado gone. Jackal saw fear in his once clear focused eyes. Moving like a battering ram Jackal grabbed up the twisted cross the fools had been worshiping. It was a hefty piece of wood, but in his rage it felt light as a feather to Jackal, who hurled it directly at Aidan. But the coward had recovered quicker than expected. He grabbed the guard Zedekiah and shoved him into the path of the missile. Panic and confusion crossed the cruel guard's face as the chunk of wood crashed into him, the top point of the cross impaling him through the chest and making him crash backwards, destroying the table Ez had just been freed from.
He was dead on impact, but Jackal was already upon him, ripping the long hunting knife from the dead man's belt and continuing his attack on Aidan. The leader let out a blood curdling scream before he ran and jumped from the stage, dropping into the very heart of the melee in the courtyard. Jackal easily followed, but just as he landed in the blood soaked dirt a couple of fierce yells came from behind him. Back on the stage, the guards who had been manning the flaming brazier and keeping all the brands hot, attacked. They quickly dumped the entirety of the brightly burning container onto Jackal before a rebel cut them down with two well-placed bullets. The heavy iron bucket fell with the flaming coals, smashing Jackal into the ground.
Thinking he had been beat, Aidan turned his back on the presumably dead lawman, picking up a discarded gun and firing into the crowd around him, not caring if he killed rebels or his own men...he just wanted order to return. He had just emptied the clip of the rifle when the distinct sound of heavy metal being thrown aside turned him white as a ghost as he turned around. The brazier was tossed aside and Jackal...whose body and hair were literally on fire...stood up tall, still clutching the hunting knife, the flames reflecting menacingly across the steel. Aidan wasn't the only one to see the otherworldly spectacle, many fighters both rebel and not, stopped for a few seconds, fear filling all of their eyes and hearts. Some even dropped their weapons and ran like the devil himself had broken through the earth to exact a fiery vengeance upon the damned town. Despite being one with fire, Jackal showed no sign of feeling the pain...he was beyond pain now...he was death...and he would not be kind to those who had earned his ire. And then he spoke...his voice barely audible above the sounds of battle...but to Aidan they were as clear as the fires around the pair. "Blade with whom I have lived, blade with whom I now die. Serve right and justice one last time, seek out one last heart of evil, still, one last life of pain, kill well old friend, and then farewell."
Saying nothing more Jackal charged at Aidan, who had forgotten the weapon and fresh mag he had in his hand at the sight of the tall man charging him, the flames licking behind him like fiery wings. Throwing both items down he ran through the crowd with Jackal hot on his heels. The people still left in the courtyard forgot their own feuds and pulled each other out of the hellish angel of death's way.
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Ezra clutched her wounded hand to her chest briefly, Jackal’s roar motivating her to get to her knees, enabling her to crawl under the table towards her friend’s frightened child. Still holding the sacrificial knife in her right hand, her head lifted towards the gunman only after she had brought the child to her, her body acting as a shield. A trembling sigh left her lips...gone was the man that had pulled her to him in the bunker with fear in his eyes...and the man who had made love to her in the water just outside the walls of this cursed town. The visage before her was hell itself...reborn in the body of the man she loved.
She didn’t wait to see the results of his carnage, her first goal to bring the child to safety. Wielding the knife before her, she jumped down to the courtyard and searched the crowd, easily locating her childhood friend, who was already moving in her direction. Bodies pressed against her in the panic, but it was only a few moments before she was able to tuck the girl into her mother’s arms, Ez offering Becca a grim smile and a nod.
“She’ll be fine...but Theo...I have to get to him,” she said in a rush, hoping Becca would understand. Turning, she pushed her way through the throng of people again to get back to the stage. The deck atilt, Ez climbed back up the steps with difficulty, the few guards remaining being cut down by the rebel army as Theophyllis screamed for the opposing forces to repent...to drop their weapons and pray for forgiveness. Her teeth clenched, Ez joined the fight as best she could, managing to take out a wounded guard that was fleeing as she moved towards the podium.
It was then that screams exploded behind her, the scavver turning just in time to see Jackal rearing up from beneath a glowing metal container which had been toppled on its side. The moment seemed frozen in time, the woman unable to move until she was nearly knocked from her feet by the most hated nemesis of her years. Her gaze shifted to the jaded holy man, a sneer marking her features as she growled. But it was to the lawman that her focus returned, no matter the consequences, his form retreating quickly down a path opened before him by the crowd. Could she make it to him in time to offer aid? Torn by indecision, her heart nearly broke when she turned her back on the sight of her lover aflame, her destiny calling her in the opposite direction...towards Theo’s white robes billowing behind him as he ran for the sanctity of the church.
Ezra ran in pursuit. It was only the sudden surge of adrenaline that gave her the ability to pursue the preacher. Blood marked her passage, her hand bleeding freely as she flew through the halls, her mind mostly numbed by drink. Revenge was her second fuel, and as the old man fumbled with the door to his room, she nearly closed the distance, slowing enough to allow him to slip inside. She continued on for several more feet, Aidan’s room her true destination. A few well aimed kicks and a bit of further persuasion from her knife and she was inside.
Ezra crawled onto the young leader’s bed, throwing aside the pillows as she searched for the items Eustace had left for her. They were right where he had said, and with an urgency she grabbed up the set of keys and a revolver, the latter being the only hope she had to stop this madness. Her gaze shifted to the wall that separated the two men’s rooms and the sounds she heard within. Getting to her feet, she sighed heavily and pulled her lower lip between her teeth.
“I’m coming old man...prepare yourself for your maker.”
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The power of fear can be a tremendous motivation for speed. And when a fiery avenger was at your heels, you forgot all other motivations. Aidan and Jackal had long left the carnage of the revolution behind them. The flames that had been licking along the lawman's shoulders and upper back had put themselves out. The pain was beyond words and it would take many days or even weeks for the wounds to fade, but the fact most of Jackal's back was already scar tissue maybe it wouldn't.
Running through the streets in a blind panic Aidan moved like a Kufu being pursued by a Crawler. Leaping over boxes, smashing through fences, anything to put as much distance between himself and the grim reaper coming to claim his liar's soul. For years the young holy man has been deluding himself into thinking he was above any retribution. He didn't believe in the idiotic ideals of religion, they were a means of control and power nothing more. There was no God...no heaven...no morality scale to weigh your good deeds and bad deeds against. You live your life, do whatever it takes to live it comfortably, and look out for number one. When you die you just rot where you fall, Aidan believed in the circle of life and nothing else. And this town was a honey comb of ignorant simpletons just asking to be leeched off of. And even if he had to tolerate the old man's propensity for young girls every day there was a plan in place to get rid of him in a year's time. Theophyllis would die in his bed a few days before the next Atonement. And then the power over this town would be all his!
But here it was...retribution for living a lie his entire life. If the smouldering specter behind him howling for blood was any indication of a divinity though Aidan for the first time in his life feared for what might be waiting for him in the afterlife. And as he met the barred gates of town he would be getting that answer very soon. Banging futilely on the gates Aidan turned and grabbed a bit of discarded rebar, facing the still smoking lawman. The stench of burnt flesh filled the air as Jackal slowed his chase his face locked into a stone-like visage of quiet rage. He wasn't even breathing heavily, Aidan readied his improvised weapon and began to speak...in some vain hope of trying to talk his way out of his death. But Jackal's knife whipped by his head slashing his face like a razor before the merciless avenger was upon him. Bypassing the false man's weapon Jackal's hands came around his throat and slammed his head hard against the wooden door. Stunned Aidan dropped the bar. Not missing a beat Jackal brought the knife up and stabbed it into Aidan's chest, locking eyes with the young fool and watching the light within his eyes dim and die, before his last breath misted into the cool night air. Leaving the knife in Aidan's chest Jackal grabbed him by his collar and dragged him back through the town being sure to leave a blood trail in his wake.
Upon seeing both of their esteemed leaders running away screaming like frightened children many of the guards simply threw down their weapons. The revolution had sparked up in an instant and in the next instant it seemed to have died out. The losses were numerous, but the town would survive and best of all the flames upon the stage were put out before they reached the hidden explosive. So by the time Jackal returned the crowd had settled down to tend to their wounds. As they saw the grim reaper walking towards them fear took hold and they flocked as far from him and his grisly package as possible. Not sparing them a single glance he heft the dead body of Aidan like it was a sack of rocks and threw it into the center of the courtyard the knife still embedded deep in his chest.
The people gasped, staring intently at the listless face of their former leader, the knife wriggling a little as his body came to rest. Following the body Jackal stopped beside the corpse, looming over it as his dead steel eyes roamed the frightened townsfolk. Giving a slight snarl Jackal lifted his voice to the sky and shouted at the top of his lungs. "SIC...SEMPER...TYYRRRAAANNNNIIISSS!" Becca and her rebels joined him in his cries and soon the whole town was shouting this battle cry to the heavens above.
The shouting carried on for a few minutes before the jubilation died down, but when the townspeople looked towards the man who might be their new leader Jackal was no where in sight. Just Aidan's dead body and the knife that had ended his tyranny.
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Ezra stood outside the preacher’s door with the key ring in her hand, her single-minded determination closing off the noises of the rebellion in the distance. Her upper lip twitched as she grasped the handle, a scowl painted on her pursed lips as she rifled through the selection. It was the third key which fit the lock, the scavver shouldering the door open and searching the room quickly before zeroing in on the old man toting his belongings as he prepared to exit his room through a back access.
“Theophyllis!” she shouted, stopping the man in his tracks as he turned towards her voice. The sound of a weapon firing in the small space was deafening, Ez growling as she rushed the old fool and slammed into him as he faltered, forcing his back against the door and slamming it shut. Blood stained the leader’s white robes, the crimson fluid flowing from a fresh wound in his shoulder. Much to his credit he had not cried out, his shock too sudden and the pain which followed blurred by his tumble to the floor.
The two struggled against each other, Ezra pulling at the strap of the bag Theo had managed to hang on to despite his injury and fall. It was a tie. Neither had the strength to oppose the other, but the woman shoved her thumb into his new orifice, giving her an unfair advantage.
“Little whore,” Theo bellowed, his teeth gritted in pain. He reached, grasping for the stolen article and what lay within, but Ez was faster, getting to her feet and taking the few steps she needed to escape his hand. Huffing out a breath, she dumped the contents on the floor, a carefully wrapped object barely touching the wooden surface before it was lifted and pulled to her chest.
“I am what you made me preacher,” she said in a low tone, her eyes narrowing. “...and this…this is not yours.” She regarded the man with little pity as he clamped a hand to his wound and struggled to get to his feet, his eyes heavy on the item she held.
“You will burn in hell…” he gasped, “...the Lord will not have mercy on your sinning soul. I denounce your penance...I deny your atonement…”
“You deny nothing Theo...you are nothing.” She raised the pistol and fired again, the bullet striking flesh only a few centimeters below the first. Theo howled in agony as he dropped back to his side, his robes falling open as he kicked against the floor.
Laughter...soft yet cruel...issued forth from Ezra’s lips. “Does it hurt sir? Can I get you anything for the pain? I think I have just what you need.” The words were spoken as she moved silently through his room, her slippered feet leaving behind prints in blood. With a gentleness that belied her mood, she laid the revered Bible on a shelf before addressing the man again.
“You. Will. Never. Hurt. Another. Child. Again.”
She came to his side and reached down, her fingers entwining into the silken material of his collar as she yanked him upwards, his face brought to within inches of her own. Her hazel eyes bored into his of blue. “My face will be the last thing you ever see. Get a good look preacher...I am bringing you to hell.” She shoved him away, releasing her grip at the same time. As his head slammed back onto the floor with a crack, she circled, this time grabbing his collar from the back and dragging his semi-conscious form across the floor to his bed.
When Theo regained his sense, Ezra was sitting on the edge of his mattress, the sacrificial dagger gripped in her right hand as she drew the blade lightly along the fingertips of her left. Blood stained her white dress, the edges of her own gaping wound continuing to ooze. With his hands tied over his head and his mouth covered with a soiled cloth, the old man could do little but stare as the scavver lifted her gaze and smiled.
“Shall we begin princess? I’d hate for you to wait.” She tilted her head as she regarded him, the muffled sounds coming from behind his gag meaning nothing to her. His robes already lay open, his pale skin stretched tight over thin limbs. She touched the blade to his skin and drew it down lightly, a narrow line appearing in red. Each knick that followed touched the last, Theo thrashing wildly as his punishment was played out.
Time lost its meaning and Ezra started to drift, her focus becoming blurred. How long had she been in the preacher’s room, she wondered. Theo was covered in a thin film of red, her own hands much the same, but still the bastard stared at her, mocking her attempts to drive out his demons. Her anger returned at once, her heart beating faster and her breaths puffing out in rapid succession. She paused long enough to rip off his gag, her weapon moving in close to his throat.
“Any last words preacher?”
“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned…”
“No!” she screamed, slapping the man hard across his cheek and rocking his head sideways. “You will not pray...you foul bastard!”
“No more…”
The dagger plunged into the man’s neck...was pulled out then driven in again. Over and over the scavver drove in the blade, sweat starting to run down her face and neck, soaking into the stained clothing which clung to her damp body. She became lost in a fog, her screams unheard by her own ears, her body continuing the assault without thought.
The door to the preacher’s room opened a short time later, a stocky figure entering the space as silent as a ghost. Ezra was unaware until she was grabbed from behind, her wrists seized in a firm grip as she was pulled back into solid muscle. She fought, trying to wretch her hands free, the warm breath against her neck causing her to panic. She smelled spice...blood...and coffee.
“Ezra...stop.”
The voice was familiar and for a moment she paused in her efforts, feeling a desire to just allow herself to be held, to give in to the exhaustion which plagued her. “I can’t…”
“Shhh…it’s over Ez...we’ve won the rebellion...we’ve taken the town.”
“No...I still have work to do...Theo must be stopped.” She turned her wrists in his grip, her strength no match for the man who held her. But still she had to try.
“Theo is dead...many times over…”
“No! He has escaped death before. I have to be sure...I have…”
“Ezra…” Deck’s voice was calm..reassuring. “He’s dead and not coming back. You’ve nearly beheaded him. It’s time to go.”
She sagged then, her eyes lifting to look at the carnage she had created. Silent tears streaked down her cheeks as she let her friend turn her around and pull her into a tight embrace.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
The cook smoothed down her hair and brought her head to his shoulders. “It’s okay Ez...I have you. It’s time to rest.”