Post by Blessed Devil on Dec 31, 2008 22:04:28 GMT 7
Note: So, this next chapter isn't much about AJ being an heiress. The chapter entitled "The Heiress" is reserved for later because... um, I said so. Besides, I told you I won't promise to implement it the way you want me to. This chapter just tells of a story back when she was 15 years old. Oh, and please don't be surprised at her sudden faith in God, because she's not at her "current age" set up for the story.
By the way, I just imitated Jee-sama's font size, but if it makes your eyes hurt I can change it..
III. The Witness
The first time Angela ever saw a real murder was when she was fifteen years old. It was quite a traumatizing event, too.
It was night time, and she was innocently strolling through the sidewalk on the way to her house, which was only a few blocks away from the mall, so she didn’t have to take a ride home. It was sort of windy, but at least she had a jacket.
She noticed that she had passed by a church, and decided that she ought to pray a little for her safety. After all, a girl like her shouldn’t be traveling alone outside at a night like this.
She stepped inside. The lights were all turned on, and the bloody figure of Jesus nailed on the cross stared at her as if watching her. The place was devoid of people, the atmosphere was mind-numbing, it felt disturbing, but with Jesus “watching” her, she felt more at ease than she would normally be. If this wasn’t a church, Angela would be running away faster a thief caught snatching a purse by now. She was a little scared, but she decided she would just pray quickly. She sat on the seat nearest to the entrance – the one near a spiral staircase – and started praying.
Suddenly, she heard a woman’s scream from above, making her gasp, and increasing the rate of her heartbeat. It was followed by several footsteps echoing throughout the Church. Two sets of footsteps, in fact. It seemed as though there was a woman who was running from someone. As Angela faced the spiral staircase nervously, the first thing she noticed was that the woman was being chased by a priest. But it wasn’t the only thing noticeable.
The woman was naked. Angela was witnessing a rape.
"Come back! This is God’s will!" the priest mockingly commanded with a menacing grin attached to his face.
"Get away, get away!" The woman continued to scream as Angela, shivering and terrified, crouched behind her seat, hoping that the priest hadn’t noticed her. She couldn’t see what was going on, but maybe she preferred it that way.
"See? You can’t run from God’s will!" she heard the priest say. "Come here, and we’ll–"
The priest came to a pause. Angela’s heart raced even more. Had he noticed her? But how? She was very careful not to make a sound. Maybe he hadn’t noticed her. Maybe he noticed something else. It had to be something else.
She heard the woman moan, followed by a large thud. And then, there came the flat silence, just like when she first entered. The priest had knocked the woman unconscious.
"I smell your perfume from all the way over here, woman!” he broke the silence. If Angela’s heart beat any faster, her chest would explode from too much blood pumping. "You’ve witnessed my crime... Heheheh... You need to die!"
The priest started laughing maniacally as he slowly tottered and wobbled his way towards Angela, his hands swaying side to side as if he was a zombie.
On instinct, Angela immediately stood up and made a beeline for the church’s side door without looking back. But when she heard the click of a handgun, she immediately froze. Shit.
"Turn around, girl," the priest instructed, still retaining the menacing grin as he pointed the gun towards the perfumed woman.
Angela did as he instructed. She felt it was the only logical thing to do at this moment.
"That’s right," the priest said. "You know, I could kill you right now..."
The priest stopped talking as if someone had cut him off. There was an extremely long pause, with neither the priest nor Angela moving an inch. Eventually, and to Angela’s surprise, the priest’s maniacal expression started to fade into an expression of sadness and suffering.
And then, still holding the gun in his hand, he slowly made his way towards Angela, who was still too frozen in fear to run away.
"You gotta help me!" he screamed as he knelt down in front of Angela and dropped his weapon.
What’s going on? Angela thought. Why is he suddenly like this?
"You gotta help me!" the priest repeated, suddenly grabbing Angela’s arms and clinging as though he would fall into a pit if he let go. Angela screamed at the unexpected movement, and would have jerked away if it wasn’t for his death grip. She could feel the man’s hands trembling. "I’m being possessed by a demon! His voice wouldn’t get out of my head! It’s like he wants to get rid of my soul and take full control over..."
His cry for help was interrupted when all the lights in the church went out. Everything became pitch-black. Was this a power shortage?
And then, the room was given light, not by the chandeliers or the fluorescent lights, but by the fire which suddenly spread on the body of Jesus on the cross. In front of the fire walked a man in a wrecked, long, brown suit. On his right arm was a torch that contained all his fury. The flame on it was held dangerously close to his body. His skin looked deathly pale and his gaze as cold as winter with his expressionless face that one could not trace the slightest bit of emotion from, though the fire behind him had possessed enough rage for the both of them.
It suddenly felt as though Angela and the priest were in hell. And as the pale man reached them, he grabbed the trembling priest by the neck.
"Your devil isn’t real," the pale man informed the priest. His slightly rough voice, although with a calm tone, made the voice in the priest’s head seem downright civil.
"No!" the priest retorted, shaking his head like a wet dog. "You’re lying! The devil is real! I hear his voice every single day! It’s torture!"
"The voice is a figment of your imagination," the other man replied.
"No!" the priest repeated. "That’s not true! Oh God help me!"
"There is no God, and there is no devil possessing you," the pale man said, gripping his torch harder. He paused for a second, his fire-red eyes so sharp it could pierce one’s soul. "I’m the only devil around here!"
And at that moment, the devil incinerated the priest with the torch, and tossed him into the seats, knocking him unconscious while bit by bit the wrath of the devil’s fire ripped apart his now crisp and burnt body, just like it did to the statue of Jesus.
Angela was there to witness it all.
***
Note: Whoo! That was long! I knew it was going to be long, but I didn't expect it to be... this long... Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading it.
By the way, I just imitated Jee-sama's font size, but if it makes your eyes hurt I can change it..
III. The Witness
The first time Angela ever saw a real murder was when she was fifteen years old. It was quite a traumatizing event, too.
It was night time, and she was innocently strolling through the sidewalk on the way to her house, which was only a few blocks away from the mall, so she didn’t have to take a ride home. It was sort of windy, but at least she had a jacket.
She noticed that she had passed by a church, and decided that she ought to pray a little for her safety. After all, a girl like her shouldn’t be traveling alone outside at a night like this.
She stepped inside. The lights were all turned on, and the bloody figure of Jesus nailed on the cross stared at her as if watching her. The place was devoid of people, the atmosphere was mind-numbing, it felt disturbing, but with Jesus “watching” her, she felt more at ease than she would normally be. If this wasn’t a church, Angela would be running away faster a thief caught snatching a purse by now. She was a little scared, but she decided she would just pray quickly. She sat on the seat nearest to the entrance – the one near a spiral staircase – and started praying.
Suddenly, she heard a woman’s scream from above, making her gasp, and increasing the rate of her heartbeat. It was followed by several footsteps echoing throughout the Church. Two sets of footsteps, in fact. It seemed as though there was a woman who was running from someone. As Angela faced the spiral staircase nervously, the first thing she noticed was that the woman was being chased by a priest. But it wasn’t the only thing noticeable.
The woman was naked. Angela was witnessing a rape.
"Come back! This is God’s will!" the priest mockingly commanded with a menacing grin attached to his face.
"Get away, get away!" The woman continued to scream as Angela, shivering and terrified, crouched behind her seat, hoping that the priest hadn’t noticed her. She couldn’t see what was going on, but maybe she preferred it that way.
"See? You can’t run from God’s will!" she heard the priest say. "Come here, and we’ll–"
The priest came to a pause. Angela’s heart raced even more. Had he noticed her? But how? She was very careful not to make a sound. Maybe he hadn’t noticed her. Maybe he noticed something else. It had to be something else.
She heard the woman moan, followed by a large thud. And then, there came the flat silence, just like when she first entered. The priest had knocked the woman unconscious.
"I smell your perfume from all the way over here, woman!” he broke the silence. If Angela’s heart beat any faster, her chest would explode from too much blood pumping. "You’ve witnessed my crime... Heheheh... You need to die!"
The priest started laughing maniacally as he slowly tottered and wobbled his way towards Angela, his hands swaying side to side as if he was a zombie.
On instinct, Angela immediately stood up and made a beeline for the church’s side door without looking back. But when she heard the click of a handgun, she immediately froze. Shit.
"Turn around, girl," the priest instructed, still retaining the menacing grin as he pointed the gun towards the perfumed woman.
Angela did as he instructed. She felt it was the only logical thing to do at this moment.
"That’s right," the priest said. "You know, I could kill you right now..."
The priest stopped talking as if someone had cut him off. There was an extremely long pause, with neither the priest nor Angela moving an inch. Eventually, and to Angela’s surprise, the priest’s maniacal expression started to fade into an expression of sadness and suffering.
And then, still holding the gun in his hand, he slowly made his way towards Angela, who was still too frozen in fear to run away.
"You gotta help me!" he screamed as he knelt down in front of Angela and dropped his weapon.
What’s going on? Angela thought. Why is he suddenly like this?
"You gotta help me!" the priest repeated, suddenly grabbing Angela’s arms and clinging as though he would fall into a pit if he let go. Angela screamed at the unexpected movement, and would have jerked away if it wasn’t for his death grip. She could feel the man’s hands trembling. "I’m being possessed by a demon! His voice wouldn’t get out of my head! It’s like he wants to get rid of my soul and take full control over..."
His cry for help was interrupted when all the lights in the church went out. Everything became pitch-black. Was this a power shortage?
And then, the room was given light, not by the chandeliers or the fluorescent lights, but by the fire which suddenly spread on the body of Jesus on the cross. In front of the fire walked a man in a wrecked, long, brown suit. On his right arm was a torch that contained all his fury. The flame on it was held dangerously close to his body. His skin looked deathly pale and his gaze as cold as winter with his expressionless face that one could not trace the slightest bit of emotion from, though the fire behind him had possessed enough rage for the both of them.
It suddenly felt as though Angela and the priest were in hell. And as the pale man reached them, he grabbed the trembling priest by the neck.
"Your devil isn’t real," the pale man informed the priest. His slightly rough voice, although with a calm tone, made the voice in the priest’s head seem downright civil.
"No!" the priest retorted, shaking his head like a wet dog. "You’re lying! The devil is real! I hear his voice every single day! It’s torture!"
"The voice is a figment of your imagination," the other man replied.
"No!" the priest repeated. "That’s not true! Oh God help me!"
"There is no God, and there is no devil possessing you," the pale man said, gripping his torch harder. He paused for a second, his fire-red eyes so sharp it could pierce one’s soul. "I’m the only devil around here!"
And at that moment, the devil incinerated the priest with the torch, and tossed him into the seats, knocking him unconscious while bit by bit the wrath of the devil’s fire ripped apart his now crisp and burnt body, just like it did to the statue of Jesus.
Angela was there to witness it all.
***
Note: Whoo! That was long! I knew it was going to be long, but I didn't expect it to be... this long... Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading it.
I mean, I can't guess what's happening yet.
(no pic yet though, I haven't scanned it DX) 
