XXXI - Josh
“Saint
Margaret was a holy woman, a chosen woman.
It was God’s plan that the end should happen through her and thus, the
world would be reborn. But the Evil One
has always stood in the way and though nothing is an impediment to God, he has
let the Evil One have his way to test us and to show us that the time is not
yet right for his plan to come to fruition.
And thus Margaret has been reborn again and again in the hearts of young
woman for over half a millennium, trying again and again to bring forth her baby,
the second coming of Christ and every time she has not come to term for the
devil has had his way.
“But this
time… this time we are sure. This time
must be the time God has foreordained for us to see the coming of his kingdom,
to see the Christ return in glory and cleanse this world of all its evil. This time the end really is nigh and we rejoice
to see it coming so soon.”
“I’m
sorry, Clara, but that just sounds crazy.
You understand that, right?”
Josh was
sitting on the floor in what appeared to be an old cleaning cupboard, complete
with rusting shelving and a few bottles of mysterious fluid, their labels long
since rendered illegible, their brands forgotten. He was staring up at the young woman who had rescued him,
earnestly trying not to ogle her beautiful breasts, which, though concealed
beneath a rather stern-looking black dress, were still eye-catching
enough. Her face was pretty too, though
and her eyes held a certain sparkle as she spoke about her church.
“But can’t
you see the world around you changing in accordance with the will of God,
Josh? It’s happening before your very
eyes!”
“I see a
lot of fog and plenty of monsters. Are
there more things like that one?”
He
referred to the enormous fog-creature with its noise which was not a noise and
the tentacles which had looked so ephemeral and vaporous and yet had grabbed
onto his legs and pulled him across the courtyard before the girl and appeared,
seemingly from nowhere and… scared it away somehow. He still didn’t really understand what had happened.
“Yes,”
she replied, “I’m afraid so. They are
part of the birth pains of the coming age.
They are necessary.”
“And the
fog?”
“It
blankets the old world, hides it from view so that the transformation can occur. When the Christ is reborn through our Saint
Margaret, then it will begin.”
Josh
shook his head, “I don’t know much about churchy things, but I thought the
second coming was supposed to happen with an adult Jesus and something about
coming in the clouds.”
“That’s
all just symbolism,” Clara replied, as if teaching a Sunday School child, “doesn’t
it make more sense for him to return the way he came the first time, through
the womb of a chosen woman?”
“I guess
it makes as much sense as anything.”
“See,”
she clapped her hands and smiled, looking more beautiful than ever, “you do
understand. That’s why you were chosen,
I suppose.”
“Chosen?”
“You must
have noticed that not many people have come through into this version of
reality – this waiting room for the end times.
Most continue to live in ignorance of all that is happening and only
when the new beginning comes in all it’s fullness will they finally understand
their folly.”
“So you
think that Paige, Charlie, Henry and I are all special somehow?”
“You’ve
all been chosen to take part in the changes that are to come, yes. Some of you will serve the Lord in his
designs, whilst others are here only as tests and to be tested. The old man, for example.”
“What do
you mean?”
“He knows
about the Church of Saint Margaret, though he doesn’t believe.”
“He hasn’t
said anything.”
“He
doubts himself, but he knows and he is part of legacy of the Evil One to stand
in the way of God’s glorious plan.”
“That
doesn’t sound very like Henry.”
“Even now
he is telling your friends about it, turning them against us. I think that is why I must have found you
when I did.”
“What do
you mean?” He was so confused by all of
this.
“I think
you’re supposed to redress the balance.
You can save your friends from the coming changes, all except the old
man, but you’ll have to win them back from him.”
“I’m not
sure that’s really my kind of thing, Clara.”
She knelt
before him then and she was just stunning.
Her strict, school teacher dress tilted just a bit forward at the front
and suddenly he was able to see the barest hint of cleavage. He felt himself start to stiffen in
response.
“It’s
what you’ve been chosen for, Josh,” she said, her tone almost seductive, though
it still held an almost childlike awe and excitement, “don’t you see? It’s your purpose!”
And then
he leaned forward and kissed her.
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