chaotic good

false god

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The gilded floor of the church was an ironic place to be as the world collapsed in on itself. There was a comforting silence in the room while the merciful yet cold gaze of Jesus looked down on all. The candles flicker softly like wisps of smoke and enveloped the hall in a metallic golden light. There must have been thousands of candles, each one slowly dying as the night drew on. Ada was sat on the floor, blowing them out, one by one, rhythmically with a steady determination. There was something peacefully disturbing about the scene which made him curious. The girl was a mystery; everything about her life seemed as simple as pages in a book but the words in those pages bore tragedy. He slowly approached her, as one would approach a child. She sensed his presence but did not turn, too fixated with the task at hand.

'I would never have thought you were religious'

There was a silence, broken by the alarmed ringing of bells.

'You know, people who play god are often the ones who are most scared. People like me, we're scared of judgement day so here I am repenting my sins. A candle for a life.'

'I thought you didn't play god, you were a god'

She hesitated and for a moment, she lost her steady rhythm.

'I say a lot of things'

He walked closer. In front of him, he no longer saw the psychotic girl who was trying to destroy the world. He saw someone willing to pay the price for the right thing.

'What do you mean, the day of judgement?'

She didnt answer his question. As if in a trance, she spoke her next words.

'The world needed a villain, Tommy, and I gave it one. History will remember me as the murderer every story they'll write but what they fail to comprehend is the other side of the story.

She had stopped blowing out the candles. Her graceful movements stiffened and she suddenly stopped all together. Her chestnut eyes were cast straight ahead but they were empty.

'There is a saying by China Achebe; 'until lions have their own historians, tales of hunt will always glorify the hunter'. The more you think about it, the more it'll fuck with your head. The hunter glorifies the lion, he always does and you know why? Because without the lion, the hunter would be nothing. There would never be a hunter without a lion, a revolution without a martyr. And for salvation, I will be the martyr.'

Another pause. Tommy's concern got the better of him as he found himself kneeling down next to her.

'But my head is a fucking curse. You know how it feels, don't you? To have wild horrifying thoughts? The voices of the dead, they taunt me for what I wasn't able to achieve. Because I failed and all those deaths were for nothing. You see, I don't believe in a heaven but I believe in a hell. And I'm terrified that I'm going to be dragged into the fires by the souls of the people I've wronged.'

There was no emotion in her voice but he saw the outline tears. They glistened in the dying light of the candles. He gently touched her shoulder and he tried to make peace with the emotions that were stirring in himself.

'So tell me, how do I keep my conscious clear?

How does God forgive an ignorant monster?'

'You are not a monster'

'Of course, I am, after all, it takes a monster to destroy a monster'

Tommy did something that surprised both of them. He pulled her into a hug. This shocked her and she didn't react for some time but gradually she relaxed and she found herself at peace with the mind for the first time in a long while. In that moment, he understood that she was exactly what she said she was. An insane sinner. But at the same time she was a divine god.