On a certain night the children made ready. They bought a coat and the hand ran over the hide enjoying the feel of the leather. Folk questioned where they come by the money but the children made no answer. They simply smiled and turned away walking in new leather shoes. They walked and walked until a large house appeareon the horizon, towering over them, and they could smell the delicious food and the drink flowing over the glass. They walked through the gates. A man stood there wearing a dark coat, a hat, and a cigar over his mouth. His voice was low and terrifying. He asked the children their identity. The child lied and his heart beat fast as he spoke.
But the man sensed the lie. He drew a hand from his waist and pointed at them. Edgar froze in terror, trembling, begging for his life. Mark clenched his fist. He wanted to fight but he knew he would not win. Only the child stood not intimidated. He looked directly into the man's eyes, his own eyes burning with fury. The man saw a fire in the child. He lowered his gun. He let them in. As the children passed, the man looked at the child once again, grinning.
They entered the house. It was a beautiful place unlike everything they had seen, far away from dusk. The people's laughter echoed through the house. The smells of the food stirred the air. It was clear this was heaven to them. Without a sense of respect they grabbed the food with their dirty hands. They gnawed at it like lions who had not eaten for a long day. People watched them, their faces set in disgust. The folk would not let the children ruin their day. They orchestrated a fight. The winner would have the loser's siblings for the night, be it man or child. The fight commenced. The guy launched over the man. The man evaded it easily. He kicked the guy in the jaw. The guy grabbed the man's coat pulling him but the man locked the guy's arm and dislocated it. The people laughed in enjoyment. They liked seeing folk bend to their will. The child watched and analyzed the people around him. This was what it was to be rich, abusing any beings they could think of. The guy grabbed a fork nearby. He swung it real hard. The man did catch it and it pierced through his arm going through the back. The man's face showed no signs of agony. Looking at him it was clear he was used to this. He hit the guy with his knee, breaking his nose. He kept punching the guy until the face was barely recognizable. The man looked at the guy's sister. She was crying in fear and the man smiled. He approached her. He pulled her forcefully, licking her face. He pulled her to a dark room and screaming and laughter mixed on that air.
A man entered the house. He wore a cassock over a white tunic, holding a cross in his left hand. His eyes swept the room calmly, taking in the chaos as if he had expected it. The laughter, the screams, even the blood, they all seemed to follow his gaze. People paused mid-step, sensing a quiet authority, something heavier than fear.
"Neighbors, what manner of sin have ye welcome on this house?"
He spoke and the people went silent. Their laughter faded, replaced by an intense gaze. The man introduced himself as Bishop Musk. He slowly walked towards the fallen body of the guy. He gazed at the face, closing his eyes, saying something in a whisper.
"Hey ye riches, is this making ye happy? Ye all are slowly falling on the devil's hellhole."
The people began to feel the unthinkable. They felt a bit of guilt, a sense of regret.
The child watched.
"who is that man right there?" Edgar said.
"Edgar are ye deaf? He said he was Bishop Musk," Mark said.
"he looks like a clean man look at that fool he looks like he doesn't believe in the evil nor God, isn't that right?" The child nodded.
An enormous man entered. He was dressed in an oilcloth slicker. He removed his wide brimmed hat. He was balder than the moon. His head was like a mirror. He had no trace of hair, no brows nor lashes. He was ten feet in height. He stood there smoking a cigar on his mouth.
The bishop stopped his sermon. He looked at the baldheaded man. The man adjusted the hat and pushed it his way as far as the crateboard pulpit where the bishop stood. There he turned to address the bishop's words. His face was serene and strangely childlike, as if he mocked the bishop. His hands were the size of a huge human head.
"Ladies and gentlemen I feel it my duty to inform ye all that this man is a fraud. He's holding a Bible but there was no evidence it was made by God. He's saying he's spreading the God's word but in reality he's just spreading the hope foolish humanity made. He pretends to be good to make ye feel guilt, to make ye doubt yerselves. This man is proven as a fraudulent. In fact he is wanted by the law in the state of Tennessee, Kentucky, Mississippi, Arkansas."
"Oh God forgive them," cried the bishop.
"Lies lies," he gripped his Bible flipping through pages.
"May God forgive ye. Watch yer mouth or ye will be guaranteed to an eternal doom," said the bishop.
"Oh really? I thought the God was merciful. If he's merciful why he cannot forgive a person who commits sins because he wasn't there to guide them? Ladies and gentlemen this man right here has caused a series of pedophilia. One person saw him at the forest. It was raining. A moan of a child echoed through the forest. When they found the child he was naked, exhausted and was branded by a cross."
The people began to gaze at the bishop aggressively.
"Oh oh oh what a lie! Why don't ye meet yer God right now?" a girl said, holding a candle.
"That's right, prove it! Let's see if yer God will grant ye yer paradise!"
They grabbed the bishop, dragging him outside. They tied him to a tree, lighting him with fire. The child watched as the fire reflected in his eyes.