Sunday, July 1st, 2018
The Sunday hymns didn’t sound as heartfelt as they normally did. Or perhaps he wasn’t standing in the exact spot where he normally stood, where the echo bounced off the floor and walls in such a way that it made his soul surge, as though trying to leap toward God with each breath he took.
No, today felt different. Hollow, somehow.
Maybe it was the growing anticipation building up inside of him. Maybe it was a sign that he had to save more souls. And he had to do it soon. Perhaps God wasn’t happy with his performance.
Had he disappointed Him when he’d failed to save Amanda?
He bowed his head and prayed in silence while the congregation in front of him continued chanting.
“Lord, my savior,
Lord, my liberator,
Guide me toward your light,
Together our souls will unite.
Your spirit calls, through the dark times it beckons,
With open arms, you’ll greet me in the heavens.
Glorious is your name,
Glorious is your flame.
Lord, while I walk with shame,
My sins you forgive the same,
I look up to you and your name I’ll forever proclaim.”
And as he repositioned himself for the next portion of the service, he silently promised to God that he’d get back to his duties. He would be the proud servant he’d been born to be. And he would no longer let someone’s gender or hair color dictate whether or not their soul deserved saving.
Hope and pride boomed in his chest as he silently made a promise to God: he’d save another soul, and he’d take care of it right after mass.
The afternoon offered the best alibi he could ever need: today’s fundraiser was hosted right in the middle of the parish. The sunny weather had allowed them to proceed with their plan A, which meant that dozens of sinners would be gathered near their residences. Nobody would notice him disappearing for a short while.
He’d already grabbed a couple of vials from his latest batch and snuck them into church in the pocket of his pants. While bringing a bottle of wine—even a travel-size one—would look suspicious, the fundraiser also came with a built-in solution: punch. He had to time it correctly, but punch would do just fine. He would offer a cup of it—with his cleansing agent added in—just before walking away from the crowd, into the sinner’s home.
But whose turn was it now?
Whose soul needed saving the most urgently?
Relieved that he no longer had to oblige by the blonde-only rule—having heard and recalled his Lord’s message very clearly—he began perusing the church’s database, this time starting his search with the addresses first.
A handful of people who had signed up to attend the event lived less than a block away. That was perfect.
With sinning so commonplace these days, he knew several sinners would be in attendance.
He paused as he browsed his list, trying to remember what each of them had confessed to recently: light drug usage, cheating on an exam, cheating on a boyfriend, lying to parents, masturbating, stealing someone else’s lunch at work, lying on their taxes, having sex with the neighbor, and getting an abortion.
His choice was clear.
He turned off the computer, voiced a quick prayer, grabbed a handful of rosaries, then headed out to find her among the mingling sinners.