In Creative Corner, Short Stories

“Sing my dear children. Invite the presence of the Lord with your soothing voices. Let Him learn of your sorrows and the burdens of your hearts,”

Father Mark’s voice echoes within the walls of the cathedral. The choir of voices, both young and old increase their volume under his guidance. His eyes swell up with tears as they rush over the tear-streaked faces masked with grief and sorrow and the lanky trembling bodies crouched on the mahogany benches. He buries his trembling hands beneath his cassock and steps down from the altar. His eyes are drawn to a small family. The mother is cradling her toddler on her lap, tears flooding down her face as her son convulses in her hands, his eyes lolled backwards and his mouth foaming. He places his right hand over his heart and mumbles a short prayer. He heads for the back room and quickens his steps as he reaches the door. He forcefully opens it and locks it behind him. He leans against it and takes in a deep breath before pulling out a dagger from beneath his cassock as he approaches a marking on the ground. His heart lurches in his chest and he throws himself down on the ground and wails. He lifts his gaze to the Heavens and cries out.

“Father, forgive me for I have sinned. I have gone against your word and I’ll live to regret it.”

Blood oozes from his cut wrist and he splatters it over the markings.

“Come forth Lilith, daughter of hatred, I command you,”

He yells. He is thrown back when a lilac flame licks at the markings on the floor before rising to the roof. A feminine figure with bulging horns on her head and a Serpentine coiled around her form appears before him, her back facing him. He reaches for the cross around his neck and grips it tightly till his knuckles turn white.

“Oh father, do you really think that cross will intimidate me?”

She mocks with a sultry voice as she zooms across the room and stands directly before him. Her black orbs burn through his eyes and a whimper escapes his lips. A cold sweat forms on his forehead as he is pinned to the floor by her piercing gaze.

“I summoned you, you have to obey me,”

Father Mark orders with a wavering voice. Lilith throws her head back and roars with laughter.

“Then act like it. Oh men of little faith,”

She remarks with a smirk and the priest bows his head in shame.

“Tell me, why have you brought me here?”

She asks as she paces around the dark room, her skin gleaming under the candlelight.

“I need you to heal my son,”

Her ears perk up at the information and a smile creeps up her lips as she turns to face him.

“Ah, so the dear father gave into temptation and bore a son, but the almighty punished the son for your sins?”

A tear rolls down the old man’s cheek as his heart drowns in guilt. His faith is being belittled and the name of his God is being dragged through the mud.

“Lord forgive me for all my sins,” he murmurs under his breath. “As men of God, we also face temptations. We are human after all,”

“But Jesus was also human for thirty-three years and he led a holy life. Isn’t that what you preach? Aren’t you supposed to follow in his footsteps?”

The man of God lifts his head to face the being before him in utter shock and amusement at its knowledge.

“Yes, that is what is expected of us as followers of Christ,”

“Then your argument of being human holds no ground. Religion nowadays is dead and sin runs a rampage. God gave you too much power when he gave you the ability to have a choice, and now you sin under the guise that the blood of the lamb will wash away your sins. Tell me, Padre,  do you really believe Jesus will find any believers at his second coming?”

Father Mark folds his arms in defeat. In his head, he is wishing for the earth to open up and swallow him. He raises his gaze to the roof as though gazing into the Heavens.

“It’s too late for that now. Answer my question, Padre,”

She draws out the last word to taunt him and he Buries his face in his hands.

“I believe so, yes,”

He replies in a choked voice.

“Your response lacks faith Father. Has your love for your God run cold, mmh?”

She inquired as she crouched before him. He breaks down as a sob escapes his lips.

“I didn’t even want to do this in the first place. The mother of my child beckoned me to call upon you so you could rescue our son from the torment of his illness. I had been waiting on God to intervene, but with each passing day my faith lessened and lessened till at last I heeded to her demands. I don’t know what to do with myself from here, I’m so lost,”

She sits in silence as she contemplates his confession.

“So you’ve given into the temptation to sin because of your significant order, just like Adam, Solomon, Samson, and many more other men of God? It is disappointing to witness the downfall of great men orchestrated by the women in their lives. But who is to blame? The women and their devious tactics or the men for allowing their carnal desires to govern their thoughts and actions? I guess we’ll never know. I must fulfill my task, Padre, but what will be my dues for my misdeeds?”

“The blood of the innocent. They await you behind this door,”

The man has regained some of his authority and confidence back as he stands beside Lilith.

“Shall we?”

He guides her out of the back room and into the chapel. Cries of terror and horror erupt inside the chapel as the people behold the gory being in the company of the man of God. Father Mark’s head is bowed, his expression stoic as though the cries of the multitude have no effect on him. Lilith raises her gaze to the statue of Jesus on the cross mounted on the wall. She does a curtsey with a devilish grin on her face before turning to the fear-stricken faces of the homeless and beggars. Her attention is drawn towards the mother and her son. She slowly approaches them, her gaze fixed on the child’s small form. Her whole demeanour changes as she transforms into a young maiden right before their eyes. She reaches out for the child but the woman shrugs her off and holds her son tightly to her chest. Lilith’s face contorts in pain and she weeps before returning to her normal form and unleashing all her rage upon the people as Father Mark watches on. He shuts his eyes and mimics the cross on his chest and forehead.

“It is done, Padre. Your son has been healed. Are you happy? Are you proud that you’ve sacrificed innocent lives for your own needs?”

“Be gone, Lilith. You have been paid your dues for your service. Your presence is no longer needed,”

Father Mark chastises her bluntly and she’s taken aback by his cold demeanour but she quickly recovers and does one more curtsey.

“I’ll be hearing from you soon, Padre,”

She disappears in a burst of flames, leaving Father Mark in the emptiness of the cathedral, and his soul.

 

 


This Short Story was published in the August 2023 edition of the WSA magazine. Please click here to download.

Read – Memoirs of a Hapless Romantic and a Train Ride – A Short Story by Namse Udosen, Nigeria

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Our Father – A Short Story by Siphiwokuhle Mavundla, Eswatini

Time to read: 5 min
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SalaamIrony of Life