a starter for @pxlimpsest ( Nam Aeri )
When was the last time you had a god?
Who was it? What was it? There was little to faint remembrance of it, or rather, Lorraine stopped caring overall. Would anyone really blame her? No one could – for her belief ceased when that entity somehow abandoned her. Where was mercy when she needed it? Where was salvation he promised when everything felt at the brink? Where was he who the world knew as the most benevolent being?
She’s called him, it, hundreds of times, when she was at the mercy of a raged being with hands rummaging over her quivering body and teeth sinking onto her skin, when she was begging for his mercy, screaming his name in between her muffled tears in every slash of her skin, every laceration that cut her open, pain after pain, hopelessness and despair drowning her in nothing but tears. But where was he? She thought he had heard her prayers when a ray of hope came, but she was deceived. It was not him. It was the devil. Did that god send the evil to mock her?
Well, I am here to mock you.
Signature click of her heels spiked through the glossed tiles, sound piercing into the ears as it reverberates in the entire place, sound waves bouncing on the old walls, flying high onto the dome-shaped ceiling and going all around – a supposedly soft sound rings louder than it should. It is Lorraine making her presence known when she steps in – always. Chin held up high, pride and scorn etched on its every inch as she struts inside, gracefully walking down the aisle as though it was a red carpet laid onto her. And there he is, standing across her, narrowing their distance with each step. Lorraine need not look at the statue, or sculpture, or whatever they call it, for it is a pathetic excuse of humans to remind them that there is a god when in fact there isn’t. Mainly that, but it isn’t her purpose.
Mocking him, it, is just an icing to the cake she’s about to devour.
Her senses fill her, a scent prances along the air and meets her nostrils, which in turn ignites the hidden thirst inside. One could only tolerate suppression to an extent – even with the help of an herb, its effect is temporary. It just so happens that today she’s lost of her daily dose. It just so happens that today, there is a presence that makes it easier for her to quell her urges. And it just so happens that today, it brought her to a sacred place.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” comes a soft voice. Yielding, menacing.
Taint this place with blood. What a sight could it be?