Children of God

The Beginning

The severed heads of undying expressions, permanently painted on all eleven members. The Father stood up as he saw all faces blind and unbothered by the gruesome display, and spoke in a loud clear cry, "The Almighty has chosen carefully as each and every one of these people will be the sacrifice for our generation to move into the promised land". Believers kneel and whisper under their breath, voices levelled in disagreement. "Promise land, promise Land!, PROMISE land.....please...send me.." The twitches and sudden spasm of their nervous limbs compliment their harsh, hoarse voices, as they continue to strain their vocal muscles to the point of silence. Clapping their hands together and continuously rubbing them. Their eyes buried beneath their head, bodies sway like a poppy field blown by the gashing winds of a treacherous afternoon.

Five members walked into the room and felt a sudden spiking chill down their backs. They move into a room of fogged smoke building from every breath exhaling from all mouths. As they all breathed heavily, inhaling, one member spoke loudly in a tired drained tone, "Smells like shit and dead rats". The smell couldn't be particularly described as everyone smelt it differently but all were not bothered at the sudden attack of a rotting Boston butt pork with a tinge of sickening sweetness. There hung bodies, old, metal, orange hooks held from the ceiling. The ankles hooked from their Achilles tendon, arms aligned with the shoulders, fingers still and stationary. A member sighs as he picks up the 10L metal bucket struggling to lift it onto his shoulder, then hitching it up to the ankles of the poultry hooks, quickly pouring the smoked water only to receive backfire of bad burns and boiling scalds. The skin tissue slathered with a glistening coating of the complemented dancing in the freezing air and fighting humidity. The sour faces of disgust, frozen in a time of pain and suffering but also given a sense of peace and freedom, "They are so happy, they're in the promised land with the Almighty". The Little One moved her right hand to strike the body, seeking the slightest backfire but received none, concluding that the deceased remains weren't breathing. Tags were wrapped on their ankles, reading, 'Body:1, time of death: 7:50 am, age:24', The Little One tilts her head to level with her seniors in mere confusion as to what comes next, one senior catches the girls cocked head peeking into the upcoming bloodstained scene. The senior kneels down to The Little One and speaks, "we got to see if they're still fresh". Two women take a knife and strike the blade straight to the marked cross on the abdomen, sliding the clean silver sword through the blue lines. Out spilt the pattern of the slimy, thick, bloody mucus slathered over the long tubes like the texture of a freshly minced Italian sausage straight from the filler.

This was The Little One's big moment, her coronation, her movement into the biggest role she was born for. She stands forward in front of the fixed crowds, the throng of people screaming, "Born Mother, thank, Born Mother, thank you..." their voices and bodies sway in disunity. The Father inhales and exhales grasping his dear future wife's hands and looks into her eyes, staring and smiling gleamingly, his eyes glisten even in the dark candlelit space. He speaks, "You...you are the chosen one. The one that The Almighty has been waiting for us, we all cherish and will follow you forever as our mother and carer. We grant you peace." Then all sang in unison, "My Queen, My Mother, I offer myself entirely to thee. And to show my devotion to thee, I offer thee this grateful, beautiful day, my eyes, my ears, my mouth, my heart, my hands, my whole being. Wherefore, glorious Mother, as I am thine born, keep me, guard me as thy property and possession. Amen", the seniors gathered, hands preached at an alter table, stood the Father, alongside him were his 5 apprentices, he moves his hands to signal all to kneel. All believers bent on two knees and swung both hands above their heads and into a pleading position of resentment, they whimpered, in solemn cries, "Father Almighty... Take Me....Heal Me.." The father is urgently called, "Father, father. One of our pigs were slaughtered", the Father's eyes grew large, he calls the 5 to continue the celebrating mass. He then quickly runs off with an unpleasant look on his frozen face.

The large lined organs plastered on the table of gathering, all 5 members and Born Mother move to the centre of the chalked star. Holding hands, chanting a sacred text of an old rags scripture. All said names, all lifted their eyes to the ceiling, feeling all adrenaline building through the silking sound of grieved laughs and cries. The faster they chanted, the faster the others weep but Born Mother felt a sense of family, togetherness and harmony in these sweet songs, humming and dancing. But a little voice in her head spoke,

"This is not right."

Born Mother rose her head in confusion cocking her head at the ocean of screaming whales, then thought nothing of it. Everything in her mind grew query as to the voices opposing and questioning her wanted lifestyle, "murderers should be locked and jailed, slaughterers should be kept and enslaved, molesters should be hung and killed and you should leave this world". She grew the emotion of worry but kept a warm smirk to sooth the beautiful character as she remembered she was chosen as the 'Born Mother'.

After the ceremony the Born Mother was brought into her small sleeping quarters, it was described as a cell more than a room. The roof had the starchy old smell of subtle oranges but with a hint of pungent sour water. The seemingly microscopic spores could be visible, and tinted with light and dark scratched shades of grey, assumably asbestos. The only source of light is a handheld candle isolated on the 3 legged table, slanting on the stumped foot. The bed made from multiple golden straws tied from children's shoelaces. She was carefully handled by two members laying her down and washing her face, before blowing out the only light that'd she see that night. A nurse comes into the room and places down her daily medication, "If you have a headache, take two but remember to.....", she responded, "chew and swallow." The nurse leaves the room turning the handle, like a bank vault wheel the steel door shuts tight. She hated the disgusting rebound of the gag reflex of the medicinal chewable since it was a celebrating event, she decided to hide her medicine and save herself the trouble. She then turns and sleeps on the movement of the swirling leaves blown by the breezy night from her barred window. Sounds grew sane but her mind ached the second she started to rest, her movement grew stiff. She felt a piercing pain stab her temporal nerve, striking the centre of her head, she wanted to scream and yell but remembered rule #671 'When you're sleeping, God is also asleep, don't make any noise that will disturb the members of the Promised land." quickly grasping her mouth with two hands, blocking any sudden breath that would disturb the peaceful silence. Seconds later her pupils start to dilate, her expression swept clean, her thoughts, however, were blasting in confusion. Angel against the demon, good fought with evil, mind against morality.

Her conscience was finally present.