“But there have been complications along the way. I chose three worthy women, but I was wrong about two of them. One went crazy when I explained her role in the future of mankind, and threatened to tell. The other was impregnated by another source. Both of these women failed me, and had to be destroyed, sacrifices to our apocalypse. They were responsible for their deaths, but I purified and cleansed their souls with an ancient and precious ritual, allowing them safe passage to the afterlife. They are in heaven now.
“There is one left, and she carries my son. Our son. She understands and loves unconditionally, both myself and our God and our Messiah. She is safe from me, but others must suffer to complete the path. It will be finished soon, Father.
“There was another chosen for her role in this world. A woman no one would miss, and she proved herself worthy and became one with our Lord.”
My God, Father Xavier thought. He’s actually killed three women so far. He decided to try a different tack. “I think you have proven yourself, my son. I believe you have taken enough lives. This has to stop now. I can absolve you of these sins, but I cannot protect your soul if you plan to sin so egregiously again and again. There will be no true absolution for you.”
A shifting behind the screen, and Xavier sensed the man was smiling. “Ah, but there will be. I am at one with our Lord. Through His love and guidance I have been acting, and I must follow the path of righteousness in order to fulfill my quest. The signs have not been satisfied, not yet. Soon, it will be done. So very soon.”
“But why now? Why the suddenness of your actions? Do you not need time to reflect upon your sins, to understand why what you are doing is wrong in the eyes of our Lord? He does not want—”
“Yes, He does! He has told me I am the Chosen One, the only one who can carry out His plan. And there is no more time, Father. My time is running out, and I must finish before I die. Not only has He granted me the wisdom to create, but also He is taking my life in return. In less time than you can imagine, the One will be amongst us.
“Let me try this again. For these and all the sins of my past life, I ask pardon of God, penance and absolution from you, Father.”
Father Xavier couldn’t think—he couldn’t breathe. This nightmare must be stopped, and he did not have the power to do so. He needed to find a way to leave this man, to pray and reflect, even to break the seal of confession if it would save more lives. He decided to go on with the observance of the confession.
“For your penance, my son, I cannot imagine there are enough Hail Marys that can be said. You must find a way to make reparations, to cleanse yourself of these thoughts and continue down a different path that will end this quest without more killing. Turn yourself in to the police, and all will not be lost. Please, I beg of you, do these things and...”
The man started on his Act of Contrition, as if he’d heard nothing the priest had said. “O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins because of Thy just punishments. But most of all because they offend Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to sin no more and avoid the near occasions of sin. Amen.”
Father Xavier couldn’t help it, the words came before he could stop himself. “Ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”
The man replied, “Amen.”
“Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.”
“His mercy endures forever.”
“In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, my son.”
He heard the man stand and open the door. He jumped to his feet; though the confession was traditionally an anonymous process, he felt he must see the man. He needed to see what the face of evil looked like.
By the time he opened the confessional door, he caught only a glimpse of the man’s back, retreating so quickly from the room that he was a blur.
Father Xavier sat down hard on the seat of the confessional. He heard a rumble of thunder, as if the heavens were displeased.
“Oh dear God, what have I done?”
He got up and rushed to his office. He needed to pray and consult with the bishop. Perhaps he could find a way to break the seal of confession; surely it would be allowed if it meant saving lives. He put on a pot of tea and sat in his most comfortable chair, thinking hard. He had no way to identify the man who had just left. He’d never seen his face, only heard his sinister, low voice.
He could hear the storm raging and looked out the window. The wind had picked up, thunder was roaring closer, and lightning began flashing every few seconds. He took it as a sign. He needed to talk with the bishop immediately.
He reached toward the desk to pick up the phone. The lights went out in the church. He managed to fumble and grasp the phone receiver, but there was no dial tone. The storm had knocked out the electricity and the phones. He was left to sit in the darkness and pray for guidance. He started to do so with fervor.
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