CHAOS

Chapter 1: Merry Christmas Father

"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned."

The dark, sheer curtain separates the two people inside the confession box who sit in silence for a moment. The man is curious on the other side, such an unfamiliar voice yet he can see through the thin veil that she is a nun.

So peculiar, the father thought.

"Dear child, what sins do you confess for forgiveness?" A lighter flicks open, flames arise, and a light of a cigarette puffs out smokes inside this box. The father on the other side inhales the pungent smell of tobacco which makes his nostrils tickle; he scrunches his nose against the foul scent.

His stomach sinks into a bit of nausea.

A feeling of impurity tickles the skin of his flesh. Raising goosebumps on his body, it gives him a warning sensation of this inherent danger that is near. A sign of Madeline smoking is already an offense to God in his house. She continues her disrespect as if she is above everything else.

"I confess I have impure thoughts, father," she blows smoke from her juicy ruby red lips. The cloud is of tobacco swirls inside the small box. The father pulls on his collar feeling constricted in the confines of his robes and the confession box altogether.

"What of these impure thoughts have you troubled, my child?" He asks, although his thoughts had proceeded to make small protests against this woman that plays a nun. He senses that nothing is right with this woman, she brings an alarming presence within this claustrophobic space.

"I want to murder my father. I want to destroy everything he's built and make him suffer. While it also brings me great pleasure to harm others." This fear that grew with suspicion has now become a blaring alarm that brings discomfort to the priest. His hand itches to hold a weapon to defend himself from a nun. A nun that is an imposter of course.

"How long have you had these i-impure thoughts, my child," the calmness of his voice now waivers with nerves of distress. She inhales the cigarette that shrinks in size every time she sucks on her bud. As she inhales profoundly taking one last smoke, she lets the soft wisps of smoke blow out inside the box.

"Several centuries now, father," she departs the small box leaving a confused, startled priest. He walks out of the box in nervous anxiety. He tries to find the nun that had finished her confession, but he could not see her. She was out of sight from the glory of the church. However, she was only a few feet away at the front of the building.

She takes a good look of the stature of the grand church and chuckles deeply. Humans have been known to feel greatly attached to gods of all kinds; Allah, Jehovah, Zeus, Jesus Christ. All of these names yet what they feel to realize that there are many gods that oversee the humans. Their mistake was to put faith in false idols.

One last smoke.

One last swirl of air.

She looks down onto the floor that reflects what she sees in the puddle of liquid. She smiles softly at the corner of her mouth to slowly rise in a satisfied smirk. Looking back at her reflection, slow memories come to mind as she remembers such bright blue eyes that had the passion to live and love for her.

The eyes of a lost love from past trauma that will forever be tattooed on her heart. She feels the emotions tugging at the strings of her heart where it bleeds black. Dropping the little bud into the liquid that trails towards the church that stands in grand stature. It lights in flames, a swift movement of her hand raises in the air locking windows and doors shut completely.

No way of escape in anyway.

She gives a wicked simper as she hears the loud cries of agony. Smelling flesh being scalded alive. They plead to be saved by their god which falls on deaf ears. At this point, when the singed flesh is smeared away revealing deep tissue and bone: they'll commence their prayers for anyone who's listening.