In a World without God

Chapter 21

Faith is like a bonfire swaying in the wind. When a gentle breeze blows, the embers glow red and roar with energy.

Ishkur was a gentle breeze. Ishkur fanned the flames that Edulis's memory had ignited in the hearts of the people. The shouts of the angry people seemed to swallow up the old lies.

Ishkur smiled at the sight of his followers.

"It's over, Kindatu. I will drag you to the ground.

There was no bonfire in Ishkur's mind; his heart was as cold as iron in the winter chill. Lutea, Bosha, the children of Ygraine, none of them mattered to him.

Ishkur remembered clearly. He remembered Kindatu plunging a knife into his father's sternum. He kicked his mother in the stomach and snatched Ishkur from her hands. It happened when Ishkur was three or four years old.

All this time, he had pretended not to remember. He ate, slept, and idled around like he didn't care. Ishkur, the lazy one! No one noticed that the sharpened anger in his heart was waiting for the right time.

"Wait for me, mother, I will soon...."

However, faith is like a bonfire shaken by the wind. When a strong wind blows, it is snuffed out in an instant.

Thump! Thump!

The floor began to shake.

"What, what is it? An earthquake?"

"But... what's that smell? Did a bucket of manure spill out?"

People were stunned. The thud, thud, thud went on for a while. Eventually, "it" lifted itself out of the ground.

When they first saw it, they couldn't even scream. They couldn't believe that such a thing existed in the world. Could God have made that? No, it couldn't be. If not God, who could have made it? It could have been........

"...This is a nightmare."

"Ugh...ugh...ugh...ugh......."

Many people started vomiting as soon as they saw it. It looked like a giant worm at first glance. A worm covered in countless bristles like a centipede. But what looked like bristles were actually human arms. Their pale, bloodless arms were infested with maggots. Between the arms were festering boils, each with a tiny hole in it, and from that hole came a voice:

"Kill me... kill me."

"Curse you, Lutea"

Attached to the head of the hideous body was the upper half of a woman. A woman with a beautiful face, her eyes closed and her hands clasped together in prayer. Then she... no, it opened its mouth.

"Those who call upon the name of Lutea."

It spoke in a soft voice as if singing a lullaby.

"I will take death from you. I will give you eternal, unending suffering. Even if your flesh rots and your face decays, you must move as my feet."

It chuckled.

"All of that pain is because you called out Lutea's name. Lutea does not reward your faith. Lutea will never save you. Curse Lutea, blame her, and beg for mercy from me."

Then it moved. Countless hands pushed at the ground like oars, and with each movement, rotting flesh and maggots rained down like rain. One by one, the flowers in the square began to wither.

Dozens of people were caught by it, like flies on a flypaper. Its hands tore the bodies of its captives to shreds, like a child tearing confetti. And then the torn flesh was sucked into its own body.