Do What Must Be Done

I walked outside to the corner and took the mass transit. Destination unclear, either out of town or out of country. It felt like I crossed a border but I have no idea how I got there or where I was. I seemed to be in a building run by one woman. A kind of church or sanctuary. Cement mostly, but without the clear beauty and goodness of the simple churches I've seen. The woman who operated the place was large and seemingly sweet like a mother. I know how she had managed to convince so many to join her church. They were loving people who wanted nothing more than reassurance and a place for their faith in the Lord to grow. A place where they weren't so lonely and confused.

I was casually looking for someone that I had spoken to earlier. I couldn't find them. Peeking in and out of corridors, rooms... As I searched, I entered a room and saw there was orange light coming from the 2-inch crack near the bottom of the cement wall. I knew that the other side contained the furnace that heated the whole building. When I peered under I saw who I was looking for. He was laying under the furnace, burning. Being slowly cooked down to a mess. I could still see the white of his teeth among all the grey & black flesh through orange flames. I could see how his eye sockets were blacker than anything I had ever seen. My body filled with fear and panic. I convulsed and vomited at the sight and began to stagger away in horror. I knew I had to leave and in that same moment, knew I was here like the rest of the followers. Trapped. Dead. Tricked into the hands of madness by the promises of religion.

I could no longer leave. I had to escape instead. I scooped together as much of my belongings into my pockets as I could and made for the door. She was there in her kitchen. Awkward posture. Varicose veins. That fat face grinning at me. She knew that I knew the door was locked. It didn't look too hefty. I considered kicking it down to make a break for it. But they called to me. Those she swallowed in fire and those she had not yet subdued. I could not live with myself if I abandoning them to her will. While the large woman's back was turned, I picked up an end table. It was stout and had large wooden ball feet. I raised it high and quietly. I brought it down on her head and she collapsed into unconsciousness. She was out but I knew it was not for long. I had no money to travel away from this place so I rifled through her change purse & wallet. I scrambled as fast as I could but she woke before I could plan a way to stop these things I saw. Her eyes burned themselves into my memory forever and as she looked at me, I heard a voice. A message telling me what I must do. Like looking at the face of a tortured & diseased dog. "Kill me."

I did.

I screamed at her, "How could you do this!? All these people!? They trusted you!" I kicked her legs crashing her weight down again. I ran to the closet to find a very large monkey wrench. It was an arm's length. I held it with two hands, one on each end. I smashed her face in. I smashed it again. When you bludgeon someone to death, it takes so many blows. It seems to take so long. I smashed her bloody mangled face for the 7th time. She bubbled & spit blood as she tried to mutter something I couldn't understand. I smashed her face with the cold steel for the last time as I was sure she was dead. I was not thankful that the terror she inflicted on dozens was now over. I did not feel the part of the hero. All I could do was sob and shake with shame and guilt under the eyes of my creator above. Angry and broken because I was forced to do something I could not bear. I never meant to take life. I now wish I was dead.