Thief of Innocence (Excerpts)
Below is an excerpt from my novel I’m working on; about a Catholic Priest who is wrestling with his own demon, which chose to rescue, and most times take reprisal against pedophiles and child abusers:
Thief of Innocence
Mystery/Suspense
(Excerpts)
Chapter I The Fire Starter
The summer was ending, and that night ponderous clouds of smoke was billowing in one of the suburbs of Boston, heavy fire was rising; and from a not so far distant from the blaze, a firefighter was running for his life inside a dilapidated industrial plant, carrying with him on his arms an unconscious six year old boy, while an agitated man with an ax was on his trail. The fire incident had happened from a neighborhood block and it seemed someone had started arson. Now a firefighter was trying to elude a man bent on killing him in sight, in favor of the young boy he was carrying.Only a small amount of moonshine sipped through from the towering window panes of the old textile factory, obscure by the billowing smoke from the nearby fire. The man carrying the boy slowly crept in the midst of immobile machinery; an idle remnant of success of fabric making. Rusted metal gazed and touched the firefighters’ Bunker Gear, in every cautious turn of his hazed escape;he’s also wary of the floor, for some reason it was wet, with patches of mucky oily water, where both rancid and decaying odor emanates, no single person would dare imagine slipping on that, not just because of the worry of being soiled by its filth, but from the danger the chemicals it might possess.
The fireman and the child shadow were a sight of desperation, silently and slowly crawling from an impending violence. Nothing could be heard inside the shadowy place, except for some occasional squeaking of rodents, most probably rats, and some inexplicable countless slowly droplets of water, that sounds rehearsed, somehow, due to its predictability. Although the man couldn’t let go of the boy, since it’s his own desire to hold onto the dear child, he opted to set the kid somewhere hidden, most especially to the threatening man in his tail.The man wriggled underneath the still machinery, forcefully and feverishly pulling the boy under the file of heavy metals, silently, making sure the kid was untouched by the inactive machine’s copious decaying protruding edges, while multitude of different kind of bugs both crawled away and crept towards their bodies. He quietly set the kid in one of the corners underneath the machine.But the moment he laid down the child—
WHISHSS “Look out!” a struck, along with an old man’s howl was heard simultaneously.The lone guard of the old factory shouted in fear.The blade swung an inch away from the helmeted head of the firefighter.
BANG CLANG the ax swooshes hitting one of the idle machines and fortunately missing the firefighter by an inch.The birds flew out, from the sound and vibration the action had made, pigeons that were nestled in some roof’s cleft,and the same with the little mammals, it all ran scared of the intrusion.It was meant to kill.Frightened,he immediately scuttled underneath the crumbling machines in the shadow of darkness to escape,and just like racing with the rodents, no longer caring about the rancid spills on the floor, despite of his almost 70 lbs. structural turnout. The man with an ax jerked his head in a bow and bent motioned towards the lone guard, dismayed at the old man’s warning to the firefighter. Although out of the shadow of darkness he hadn’t seen how menacing the man’s face with an ax was, fearing for the assailant, the lone guard quickly ran out of the plant.The ax man looked at the unmoving child, his eyes still piercing and vicious, but decided to run and searched for the firefighter in the darkened plant instead; he knows that in order to get hold of the child he had to finish the fireman first.Although the fireman fully believes that he could escape the threat in his life at that moment, he mastered himself to fight on, he could not leave the child, he knew that his being was all about such a child, he could not just give up his mission and passion in this existence; and for reasons only known to him and the ax man, it would not end there if he escapes, he had to make a stand. Knowing that they were the only men in the dead factory, he fearlessly resolved in himself to fight-on, he has to have the child, if he needs to kill the ax man, he would do so. Both men scrambled and crept silently on the dark, narrowed crevices of the plant deliberately, each one of them noiselessly haunting each other.Both of them by then had adjusted their vision in the darkness of the place, and could figure out the movement of the shadows.Feeling a little secure that his foe was at a far distance, the firefighter slowly and carefully disrobed his heavy structural turnouts,including the heavy rubber boots and the hard heavy helmet; its weights were dragging him down. With that he suddenly felt light and believe that they were almost even, even with the way they were dressed, he’s also wearing a dark shirt, except that he didn’t have a weapon, unlike the ax man. He moves furthermore in the dark, away from his weighty bunker gear, he knelt still on one of the fissure underneath a dead machine, ignoring all small little things that were creeping allover him, looking like a part of the condemn metal in the black and gray illumination; but his eyes were in rapid motion trying to track down his foe and searching for anything that he could use as a weapon to even up the odds, but remained motionless. At that moment the ax man slinking slowly, saw something in the dark underneath one of the idle machine, although it was motionless, he was assured that it was the firefighter, he could not believe his luck, now he knows he is finished.He believed that the firefighter couldn’t see what was coming from behind, he lifted the weapon upward above his head from the right side of his shoulder and aimed the ax,and in full force and speed with utmost ferocity he slashed downward at his target.
A week before the fire, a lone man was standing opposite one of a suburb home in Sandersville, Boston, Massachusetts. He just got there trying to follow a blue eyed blonde boy of six, he like such a boy, no actually, he was obsessed about him. He could not stop the hunger for an image of a blue eyed blonde boy’s frightened gazed. It was his sick perverse desire, sometimes he questions himself why not any other children,but he did tried but for some reason he didn’t get-off pleasurably from any other boy. He himself was blue eyed and was originally blonde as his father was, from where he experienced first the pain and joy of this obsession; but with this sick fixation, part of his usual activity was to masquerade himself; now he has donned a red flaming hair, ironic if he wouldn’t want to be noticed. He patiently and diligently observed the coming and going in his target’s house. First, he observed that the one adult male of the household, the father, leave the place regularly around 6:30 in the morning and readily was back by 6:30 in the evening.Sad for him, was that it seemed the mother never leave the house at all, continually in the company of the boy. Several days, he tailed the kid from the house to the school and then backed home; in all that instances, he tried to secure a glimpse of a chance to get near the kid, but unfortunately for him, like clockwork, it seemed the kid was never left alone.His patience was running out, he had not sufficed his thirst for atrocities for two years. Although part of his being is incredible patience, but at that moment he wanted to jump on preys that he could see. He sees this boy as remarkably alike with the last one he devoured and he knew that it was one of the best, he jests that this one would be like it, or even better, a spoiled kid with no blemishes, so innocent and no sense of danger, never been frightened in his childhood’s life;now, he could already imagine the sight of the kid’s terrified blue eyes.
The man’s hunger originates as a consequence of his two year battle from a combination of incarceration and legal contest from his known last victim;same as the boy, his haunting now, a six year old blonde blue eyed boy named Harry Granger. Ironically, he was caught on a mere traffic infraction, having a busted tail light. A young rookie traffic police in his excitement for suspecting the man as low life and somewhat power tripping, immediately handicapped him and automatically opens his van’s back door and stumbled on a bunch of evidenced; leading to the suspected abduction and killing of a missing six year old boy.Prior to his arrest, he had accumulated a sizable number of victims, which he preyed on around the State of Massachusetts,all blue eyed blonde boy between 5 to 10 years old; except for his number twelve when he tried a variety that he regretted, an Asian boy to him was a disappointment; from then on he swore that he would not try any other. The boy he was targeting now was his 14th and the 13th was the one that gave him trouble, because of his dismay with his 12th he becomes reckless and careless and somewhat complacent, that lead to being stopped by a mere traffic officer for a traffic violation. It seems unbelievable that such an evil man was not immune from the curse of the number 13; maybe the number 13 curse didn’t really discriminate.
His trial lasted for almost two years and there was some media attention in the beginning and it was a big buzzed, since the news was about sex and violence.But as the legal contest dragged down the interest die down also. The legal dispute dawdled behind back and forth between the prosecution and the dependent councils for two years, but it boiled down to two basic things. Although the evidenced included the missing boy’s school bag,its contents of books and notebooks, the school uniform,including the I.D. of the child,and some rope that evidently could have been used in the abduction and subjugation of the child; unfortunately, it was all inadmissible in court, because it was unwarranted at the time of arrest and the eventual seizure of the evidence. The traffic officer had dropped the ball on the matter;in his excitement,he readily arrests the man without following the proper protocol, he just readily handcapped the man, and immediately searched the man’s van without following the proper procedure.Although a number of witnesses had come forward about the numerous occasions that the man was sighted in the boy’s school, talking to the child, and even giving gifts; and most significantly, he was once suspected of molestation,although the case was dropped when his family paid-off the accuser’s family; all of these did not matter in the end,the trial dragged for almost two years, the prosecution was not able to convince the jury of killing for any matter, since the child’s body was never found. As expected,he was released and was acquitted.
Now, he stood in one of the corner street hidden like a statue waiting for a prey in the suburb of Sandersville. His hunger had not diminished;in fact, it was increasing by the hour, he’s feeling restless. Although he fidgets and somewhat irritated, he knows that he had to be in control, he could not afford to make a mistake again, just like two years ago.Unlike any obsession this was not addiction that you could not control, this endeavor was all about control and calculation, this was not just to feed and satisfied his hunger or his ill dependence; part of the indulgence on this, was the way out, the feeling of getting away with it at your own behest, a perfect anonymity in crime against the so called precious Gem of each family, their innocent child;this was HELL for them, but not for him, for him this is HEAVEN or even NIRVANA that accumulates in his soul in every atrocities that he made;with this in mind, he quipped and sniggered eerily and whispered, “patience is a virtue… so they say, that’s an actual Fuck!”.
But one Friday at dusk as he passed on ritually on the street of his target prey, he saw the boy’s parents, yes, including the mother about to alight in a car with her husband; both of them in formal dressed for an evening party, he gleefully sighed at the opportunity and park his van at a distance. Upon the parents’ departure, he readily crept quickly and silently on the yard of his target, excited, ready to pounce on his game.Right away, he cautiously sneaked in the backdoor, but to his dismay, it was locked shut, he searched the numerous windows for an opening,and when he finally discovered a slightly opened one, when he peeped through he saw a heavy set Latina girl, the trusted house cleaner of the Darwin family,babysitting for the kid.She seemed someone who could handle her own, somebody you should not mess with, he deduced this was another complication; he could not risk a confrontation with the lady, although he knew that he could eventually overpower the lady, but to do so might create some unintended commotion and attention. He backed out, fruitlessly swaying his head mindlessly, and retreated to his park van, but eventually saw the fire hydrant afar from the street corner and the unattended house right beside the Darwin’s residence; he snickered and positively twitches his lips and immediately drove his van out of the village.
Around eight in the evening he was back, with him a container for 10 gallons of gasoline, concealed in a suitcase; as usual, he parked his van at a distance and quickly disembarked. Before opening the van’s backdoor, he scouted around the area earnestly, and when he saw that no one was around, he pulled out the luggage containing the gasoline container. He laboriously carried the luggage into the Darwin’s neighbor’s ground. Upon reaching the place he temporarily put down the suitcase and searched for an entry point. He carefully checked if there was an alarm that could be triggered if he made any attempt, when he found a safe window, he carefully smashed the glass and quickly opened it, he immediately tossed in the luggage of gasoline and went inside. Inside, he quickly poured some of the gasoline on the floor and curtains in the living room since it’s nearest to the Darwin’s home. He cupped shut the container, positioning it near the window facing the Darwin’s house, he lit up the curtain and hastily jumped at the opposite side window of the house, and watchfully,but speedily sneaked out of the property. Inside, the fire started to blaze in inferno especially the curtain, it quickly spread on everything combustible and at instance the gasoline container blew into explosion. Shuttering the window towards the Darwin’s house, but not enough to cause immediate damage except for some shuttered windows, but small fire could be seen outside the walls house. Fire trucks siren’s was instantly heard wailing from the distance. Inside Darwin’s home the babysitter was coming around from her sleep befuddled, not instantaneously recognizing what was happening. When she got down the stairs to look around, she saw that the fire was starting to eat up some of the living room, and was stunned when, ‘BAM’, instantly a firefighter breaks-in the door and forces himself inside and shouted, “Ma’am go out… it’s no longer safe here”.
“But Bruce, a kid is upstairs… in his room, I gotta get him first”, the babysitter worriedly answered, “ugh, ugh, ugh…” she coughs upon inhaling some of the smoke.
“I’ll take care of him, don’t worry… it’s too far dangerous for you to go back upstairs, where is he?” the fireman asked.
“Second door to the left… ugh, ugh, ugh… please hurry”, the babysitter pleaded, covering her eyes and mouth from the intoxicating smoke.
“Go out, ma’am…Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him…” said the fireman and quickly jumped on the staircase, while the babysitter quickly went out of the front door.
Within minutes the fireman was carrying Bruce, a six year old blond kid. The living room was ablaze and the front door was engulfed with fire.He quickly turned the other way and exited at the back door, outside the back house; he continued towards the back end rather than trying to find a way in front, the fireman move into another property at the back house, traversing the greeneries and other obstacles and went out at the backstreet; fortunately, it was already barricaded and there were no people, so moving the child was easy, other firefighter gave way to him, seeing a child in his arm, he quickly passed them and carefully went through the fire trucks that sprawled in the street, from the distance he could already saw numerous medical ambulances,and midway in the corner of the alley he saw the parked black van, and besides, a man in black suspiciously hidden and waiting, immediately he sensed danger he didn’t wait to be seen and opted to turn the other way and crept on the nearest alley. But unknown to him from afar the man had already seen him and the child, but his attention was disrupted by the commotion of the people from a distance,watching the spectacle of fire, that when he looked back at them they were no longer there as he expected. The chase had started, he ran speedily and quickly pulled out one of the axes from the fire truck that he passed by and readily search every corner alley, searching where the firefighter and the child went to; fortunately, for him in the third alley from a distance of about a 100 yards, he saw the firefighter carrying the child entered in haste a dilapidated structure, a sort of old factory. The man with an ax hurriedly ran and followed suit and swiftly entered the deteriorating premises.As the lone guard of the place noticed the entry of both theax man and firefighter from his crumbling observation tower, despite keeping an eye on the fire that was blazing from the neighboring village.
The old man quickly descended from the dilapidated watch tower, worried for the Firefighter and the child;he cautiously and noiselessly followed inside the disintegrating building. He saw the man from a distance with an ax slowly creeping along the dark aisle in the midst of unmoving machinery, peeking through all the crevices within his grasp mutely, like a cat in haunt and hunt mode. The old man stopped in his track afraid of being noticed by the ax man, just stared motionless remotely and would make a step forward silently only when he could no longer see the threatening man. Suddenly, from a distance in the midst of darkened disarray of machines on top he saw a glare shining, in the air, the blade of the ax that was touched by a just a speck of moonshine, but it was just enough to be noticed since nothing in the place could shine or glisten, it only meant one thing, it was about to strike, in an instanced he howled, “Look out…!”
BANG CLANG, a sound of metal to metal banging.
Hearing the metals banging, he sighed in relief, he was hopeful that the man missed his mark, but equally frightened that the man would move on towards him and he hastily ran out of the building. After missing his mark, the ax man quickly turned his attention back to the firefighter, but unfortunately it had crawled safely underneath the crumbling machines.Now, time was not his ally, it was only a matter of time before the old man that shouted would come back, and along with him, expectedly, police to hamper his plan. Despite his anger, he looked into the child, and twice thought if he could just leave and carry the child out to escape, but he resolved in his self that he has to kill the firefighter first, since he believe that the firefighter might have already recognized him, that’s why he’d tried to escape this way. The urgency was here, it was all or nothing, the boy and the death of the firefighter.
The ax man quickly but silently scrambled to get the firefighter, in his noiseless searched he calculates and project where the firefighter could have been at the end of his first swing, he promptly silently moves to his estimates and was glad to have been right.Out of the dark, he saw a still firefighter underneath the decaying machine, quietly mute, he crept in the back of the fireman, feeling confident that he was still undiscovered by the fireman, he rose up the ax and in full force he rapidly slashed down.
WHOOP THUG, the sound of the ax strike sounded loudly.
The ax man was surprised, whatever he hit didn’t react at all, he pulled back the ax and bent down, grasped on the thing he hit. “Huh…” he reacted with dismay. It was just the fireman’s bunker gear, now, he himself was in fear; the man just like him could not be seen easily in the dark, but worse it could now move without difficulty, and suddenly.THUG, in his bent he was kicked strongly in a stamping motion, he tumbled, face first on the floor and threw the ax out of his grasped at a distance.
“You don’t think I do my thing without me being able to handle myself— you’re mistaken”, and “Hahhh…” the firefighter said and stuttered, while giving another forceful kick in the abdomen side of the ax man.
The ax man lay crumpled sideways from the pain of the attacked, his eyes were an evidence of confusion, his fear a while ago was dead-on, he was questioning himself at the moment of pain if he was right all along to pursue the firefighter, now, he thought he’ll die there and “… the kid,” he utter almost inaudibly.
“What… the kid, you say?Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him”, and another kick were thrown at the ax man. “Let’s finish this!So, I can go back to the kid.” the firefighter followed while walking along smoothly and confidently towards the ax that was thrown away, and when he was about to bent down to pick up the ax, quickly, the ax man, even in his weak state, promptly raise and find all his might to tackle the firefighter, not knowing where would they land or even if he’s ever going to overcome the fireman afterwards, it was instinctual to him, he used to wrestle in high school.
WHOOPS… THUG, both of them landed in one of the dead machines. Someone was bleeding, the ax man in arms hold-on to the firefighter’s lower torso, he felt blood drifting in his shoulder; he released his hold and he could see and feel that he was wounded, blood was drifting in his shoulder and suddenly, “Uhmph…” he was struck in the face by the firefighter.His head was thrown backward, but not enough to staggered him, he quickly stood up in defense, but to his surprised the firefighter didn’t move, the man was stuck, the blood that was on his shoulder was not entirely his, it was mostly the blood of the firefighter, a rusted metal was protruding in the right chest of the firefighter; amazingly, he still looked strong and would seem ready to fight on despite his attachment to the decaying machine, if only he could just move out of it. Seeing that the fireman was still strongly fighting for his life despite the protruding metal in his chest, the ax man quickly picks-up the ax, stood up and raise it above his head, viciously and with a force of all his might in a lifetime, he struck down the firefighter.
…WHOOP CRACK, the blade slashes
“… Ahhh,” gasped, coming out of the fallen.Blood gushed and showered in the air, raining down opposite the equally immobile machines and the ax man.The fireman was hit near his nape, between his neck and left shoulder— his head and neck dangled to the right, while the ax was still lodged in his gaping torso.
The ax man stood still, holding the ax that was embedded in the fireman’s torso, like he just struck a tree trunk;he looks for a sign of life, but all he saw was a terrified glaring eyed gaze, glistening due to the tears and some blood emanating from it, and truly gruesome,the blood was not only streaming from the victims gaping torso, but equally in his mouth. Feeling relieved, he suddenly felt strong, his adrenaline was still kicking, and he dislodges the ax and wipes it speedily making sure that no prints could be traced. He went back to the victim confusedly, searching or arranging something in its clothing. The ax man then readily searched backed and pick-up the fireman’s bunker gear and don it into himself, including the heavy helmet and the boots; and then proceeded to the still unconscious child, he then as if ceremoniously cleaned the child, taking all the insects out of its skin and clothing’s; and then carried it in his arms and then cautiously went outside of the dilapidated building with the child quickly.
As soon as he left the body, creepers immediately skulked on the body to invade the spoils of war; first the roaches and other small bugs, and then the rodents that promptly gnashed on the smorgasbord meat and the wine of blood in their midst; the gaping torso especially was mauled first by a multitude of crawlers, it was a loot, a Feast. You couldn’t actually tell the difference,for out of the shadow of gloom, the squeaking almost sounded like they were in jubilation, unlike the sporadic one before the battle. Many thanks to the violence of men, it’s Christmas for the creepy crawlers.
Chapter II The Confession
Months before the fire in Sandersville, a man entered the St. Jude Church of Medford, Massachusetts, he was both nervous and anxious, he was not Catholic, but he was in the church, he didn’t even know anymore what denomination was he leaning to, because, ever since he could remember, he had gone to church only when he was a kid, not to pray or attend the mass, but just out of playfulness, his playmates would run inside the church and he would just followed suit, not even knowing which church it was. His family was not religious, but it’s not to say that his family or him were atheist, they do believe in God and he thinks that Jesus Christ was really the son of God, this he learned from occasional preacher whom he’d talked to, like from the roaming Jehovah’s Witnesses. Upon entry of the place, he readily saw a lady talking to a priest crying as if pleading, he overhears about her missing a 10 year old son that she already reported missing to the police, she pleaded to the priest for a fervent prayer to get back her dear loving son.The priest offered his shoulder and the lady continued to sob into his shoulder. Up to leading to the main door, the priest continually offered his shoulder to the suffering woman and promised that prayers would be made for her missing child.
When the woman left, the man who was then near at the chancel quickly walked towards the priest, but before he could even approach him, the priest readily kneel cried or prayed intently, it seemed the priest was giving himself penitence for the kid’s safety, because he didn’t even wait to be in one of the prayer’s desk or the multitude kneelers of the pews, he just readily collapsed where the lady had left him. The man was surprised and amazed with the priest sentiments and sympathy, “Truly, Catholics are some kind of religion”, he said amusingly, and sat in the pew and observed the priest crying… no, praying from a distance in the church’s nave area. But amazingly it didn’t end there, the priest with his eyes closed, pick through his right pocket and pulled out a blue beaded necklace with a cross (a rosary), and in his kneel he spread both his arms, armed with the beaded necklace with a cross in his right hand, recited a prayer of sorts (the Holy Rosary) and move his knees, crawling slowly towards the altar crying or praying of sorts; the man observed. Other people who were there actually ignore it, as if it was a common thing to do; but it’s not, it could only be seen in Latin American countries and the Philippines, countries which had been colonized by the Spaniards, and it was not the priest either who do such penitence, only a few members of a congregation. But in that parish church, this particular priest does this with regularity, three times, even six times a year. The man on the other hand was still deeply surprised and amazed at the priest’s action. He had found the right person to talk to, this man of God would ease his pain, his Catholic friends were right when he overhears them, that in time of difficulty and you want to talk to someone privately, you could always go to a priest and make confession, they joke, “It’s free and it will bring you to heaven… unlike talking to a Shrink, it will cost you and there’s no doubt, that it cannot get you to heaven.”
By the time the priest reached the chancel, both his Roman cassock and black tab-collar clergy shirt was soaking wet with perspiration, it was mid-summer and it was evident with his clergy wears. He stood up, pocketed his rosary and pulled out a handkerchief, and was about to exit at the back of the East Wall when the man sort a shouted, “Father, Father… wait”.
The priest jerked his head with open dismayed at the man's discourteousy, the priest dubbed his handkerchief to his face, frustrated and wretchedly responds, “What can I do for you?”
The man himself was surprised as to the priest somewhat rude manner, he’d expect that the priest would be welcoming; he stuttered, “Can I confess? …Do confession?”
“Confession…? You don’t go to church, do you? There…”, pointing at a distance on the right side of the nave, the Confessional, and promptly left for the exit, right behind the East Wall.
The man was disappointed, he was expecting that the priest, he saw doing his penance would be the one he could talk to, to his dismayed he was kind a rude. The man proceeded to the Confessional and boom… dissatisfaction, on the wall right beside the Confessional it said:
Regular Confession Schedule: Tuesday and Thursday
9:00 to 11:00am & 3:00 to 5:00pm
The man felt irritated, it was Wednesday that day and he thought the priest could had already told him that there was no confession on that day, he was starting to feel unwanted and then he realized, “Maybe he can smell… maybe he know I am not a Catholic”.
Frustrated, he walked out of the church and said, “I will never go back at this FUCKING church, rude fucking priest”, still unable to ease his pain, and worse, his getting close to going berserk or he might not be able to control himself; but in truth, the reason he was not getting berserk was, he’s really a coward, he’s just convincing himself that he was capable to harm another individual if he decide to do so; all of his agony didn’t stand from trying to control his anger, but only because of the embarrassment that he had made upon himself and his Department and co-workers. On the same day, he drove to several Catholic churches hoping to have a confession; in all, he’d gone to seven, and three of them had a schedule confession for that day, he tried, but every time he kneels and was face to a priest he didn’t know what to do,or say, and the priest would asked him and he would be known or caught not being Catholic, most especially once they asked about Catholics Sacraments, the seven sacraments in particular, which he knew nothing about, automatically the priest would politely turned him down and told him instead that there were a process for conversion. He was actually not after to be Catholic and to become part of any religious organization per see; that moment in his life, he just wanted to belt out, his frustration and his devious plan that he could not carry.
Weeks before the day of his attempted confession, he was in agony and could not stop the humiliating gazed of his coworkers and of the whole community itself, or he might be just imagining things. But how could he imagine things, when it was obvious that he could no longer share time with his old friends, and even the people in the grocery and other stores who used to be friendly with him were sometimes indifferent and sometimes rude outwardly towards him; he was not imagining things, it was happening. He had to do something about it, on that day, he decided himself to get back his dignity and the respect of the community. From then on, before going to work and after work he started his task diligently, even sometimes in the middle of working, he just couldn’t let the community condemned him for his mistake. After a week or two, he had readied all the things he needs and he knew he could pounce backed on the culprit that put him in such a situation. Daily, he stokes his target waiting for the right moment;but increasingly, his nerves were catching on him, most of the time he shuddered uncontrollably at the sight of his target.It would be impossible for him to accomplish the task at hand, he knew it could mean his life if he failed. Everyday his frustration was getting stronger and stronger and it seemed he was losing his mind, sometimes he wishes that he loses his mind completely and go on berserk, but he was too cowardly, he always thought of the chanced of getting hurt or getting killed. Practically the reason he wanted to talk to a priest, partly he didn’t want for people to accuse him of losing his head, he didn’t want anymore aggravation, he was already been being detested for his mistakes.
After a few days, in his frustration, he ended up again at the place he decided early on never ever to get back on, the Church of St. Jude of Medford, the priest, although rude was someone he needed, he needed a fanatical prayer and sympathy, as the rude priest was giving. Actually the church was not within their community it was two counties away from their community, but he chose it, since he knew no one would recognize him in that area. It was Thursday afternoon, he was within schedule,and he saw around twelve people seated in the pew near the confessional waiting in turns. He sat in the last line, he noticed that all the people there were somewhat in a sort of meditation before even talking to a priest, he was confused of their action and decided to observed them, somehow it made him feel nervous, and when new people sat beside him online, he would readily give up his position, still double thinking if he would proceed. But the procedure didn’t really took that long, some would enter and be out in five minutes, the longest he observed took around fifteen minutes, but over-all the average could have been between 6 to 7 minutes; but afterwards, he observed in their kneel the confessor would pray as if endlessly, all the people that had finished their confession was still there kneeling, praying and its’ been an hour passed since he got there.
“These people might have killed someone… it’s taking them forever to say sorry.” he joked in himself.
Until he was the only one left in line for confession, he could still make a run for the door, but he said in the end, “What am I going to lose… I’m going mad anyway”.
He entered the confessional and kneel on the prayer desk, “In the name of Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”, the priest lead on the sign of the cross to which he quickly mirrored “…the name of father, son, holy spirit”, his eyes widened trying to visualize the priest in the screen grill covered on the other side of the Confessional.
“Proceed son…” the priest said melancholy.
He knew that it was the priest, he saw last time, his temperature rises, he didn’t know his feeling, if he’s agitated or nervous, he faltered, “Fa… Father…”
“Yes son, proceed…” the priest said sympathetically, but still somber.
He didn’t know how to start, he forgot to ask his friends how to do about it, in the first place he didn’t even know if his friend would still tell him, he just said, “Father, I’m here to confess”.
“What son? How long was the last time?” the priest asked patiently.
“What do you mean?” he answered quickly, that sounded rude.
The priest recognized the voice and peek through the grill, “Yeah, it’s him”, he smiled; he realized afterwards before that he equally responded rudely before with the man and it’s unbecoming for a priest, he added, “I mean, when was your last confession son?”
“I haven’t made any confession before,” he said and added “…father”, since he realized he was being impolite.
“Why son…?” sounding still sympathetic.
“Eh… eh…” he’s lost for words.
“What son…?”
“… Eh… eh…I’m not Catholic father”.
“Son… I hope you understand… I don’t want to sound rude, but you shouldn’t be here confessing… if you’re not Catholic”, the priest said, but still somber without sounding rude.
“Why not father?My friends told me I can confess to a priest if I wanted to,” sounded like both demanding and pleading.
“Your friends are Catholic? Did they really tell you that? They are not good Catholics if they told you so”, the priest asked so that eventually when the man finally left the confessional he would really understand why the Sacrament of Reconciliation could not be administered to him.
“… Uhm, actually, I have just overheard them”.
“Son… I’m sorry I could not perform the Sacrament of Reconciliation to you… it’s a religious sacrament and its sacred for us Catholic, there were reasons for this sort of this, being truthfully aware of your sins, completely being sorry for your offends, and seeking God’s grace of forgiveness is not as simple as being here making the confession, there are things that’s beyond this confessional, before and after the confession.
“So is it really just for Catholics?”
“I’m afraid so, Son.”
“Is there any other way Father… I really need someone to talk to,” he asked pleading.
“Yes… we can talk, outside this Confessional, as a friend not in a capacity as a Priest.”
“What do you mean?”
“Meaning, I would no longer be bound to silence.If what you’re going to tell me would cause harm to other people, I might be bound to report to the authorities as a citizen of this land.”
“I don’t need that… I need this Confessional… I want everything I’m going to say to be only between us.” he sadly declared.
“Son, it’s not possible, you are not Catholic.”
“So, the only way I can make this confession is I become Catholic.”
“Yes,” the priest readily answered and muttered, “except for…”
“Except what… Father?”
“Except for the dying, dying non-Catholics could avail of Confessions, you’re not dying, are you?” the priest jest.
“I’m not dying… not just yet. But maybe, if I could stop a boy from being killed.” he frustratingly answered.
The priest froze when he heard of a boy that was threatened to be killed, “What do you mean? Are you planning to kill a boy?”
“Of course not Father.” he quickly answered.
“So what do you mean?” the priest asked with full interest.
“Am I confessing now… father?”
The priest sat still, he knew he could not perform the confession with the man, but equally for good reason he was interested in the plight of the said boy.
“Father, can I make my confession now? I may not be dying yet, but I’m sure someone is going to die, worse, it could be the boy.”
“Ye… you can talk, this will be secret between us; I’ll guarantee that whatever you say will remain with me till my death as a secret between us.”
The young men afterwards told the priest everything, his mistake, his community’s condemnation of him and his plan, and even turn over all data pertaining to his plan. In turn the priest advises him. “Son you are a man of the law, you are to uphold the law and not circumvent it, don’t worry about your neighbors, our Lord himself was condemned by his neighbor.Persevere and pray, they will forgive you in due time, HE will help you— about the boy, our prayers will help him… he will be saved.”
And the young man readily left, feeling relieved that he was able to talk to a holy man, he assumed and hope that the priest would do the same penitence sort of prayer that he had seen and it would save the boy.
In his living quarter at the Rectory, the priest was contemplating about the big coincidence, just a few days ago, a lady member of the congregation was pleading for her son’s safety to God, and now a young man of law was foretelling about a dismal future for a young boy. He had pray to God in penitence about the missing boy for he was really distraught about it and now a case of threatened child was lodged in front of him, he could not ignore it, it’s a sign, the Lord would want him to redeem himself, despite of his failings, just like what St. Paul had experienced.He prayed to God earnestly to be taken away as soon as possible, since he knew that the days he spend in his life made him unworthy little by little, so he’d pray every chance he could, to be forgiven. With this thought, he pulled open one of his closet, he took two short whips with multiple endings— flogs.Remove his clericals, kneels and proceeded to flog himself repeatedly in his back.
WHOOSH, the first sound of the flog hitting his Kelloid infested back, from regular flogging, he murmured “… Lord, I thank you for forgiving me… repeatedly.”
WHOOSH, he hit himself again, “Lord, I am equal to the task, I will save the boy.”
WHOOSH, “Lord, I will save myself, I will overcome my weak mortal body.”
WHOOSH, “In your honor,” part of the skin in his back turned purple
WHOOSH, WHOOSH, WHOOSH, WHOOSH… and repeatedly flogged himself that even his old wounds started to bleed. He repeated this until he was put asleep due to tiredness.
The following morning, he was dressed up again in his casual clergy shirt, with him in his bag a pair of extra shirt.
“Good morning, Father Ian.Where to?” one of the lay lady greeted and casually asked where he was going.
“Good Morning, Margaret, off to see my Mom again… you know? Some family business”, said Father Ian and quickly hopped in his car and drove.But a few blocks away, he changes his clothing to regular clothes and proceeded to a hardware store and bought a shovel, and drove again out of the city.
The moment he got back at the city, he was already in a trail, stoking one of the most dangerous men for every boy in Boston or in Massachusetts as a whole. The young traffic officer had done his job well, in terms of knowing the predator’s movement. The man, who had been recently acquitted, was at his game again, hunting a blond blue eyed boy in Sandersville. Father Ian Storm knew that it’s just a matter of time, the man had made all his preparation and he knew that it was already waiting to pounce on his game; he knew this because he’d do it the same way, if it’s him. And that fateful day, he tracked and pursued him from a distance.Just like the man, he was dressed like a common man, barely noticeable. When he saw the parents of the child was leaving for some sort of formal gathering, he knew it was the time, he readied himself and observed the man more keenly, and he was right. Right at that moment he already saw that the man was moving to his target, the man was quickly in the Darwin’s property peeking through the windows, he waited until the time the man would break in, and he was assured of his plan. The moment he went inside the house he would just readily called the authorities and bum, he would be caught in the act. But surprisingly the man hastily went out of the Darwin’s property, something was a missed, it’s not going as he anticipated.
Father Ian just continually observed the man and followed him from a distance, when it decided to leave the place. He saw that the man, disguised himself wearing a long wig, a baseball cap and sunglasses, and proceeded to a second hand Army/Navy store, and purchased something, actually, it’s a bunch, two full suitcases. Then it proceeded to a gasoline station where it purchased loads of gasoline. This he thought didn’t bode well; the man was adding something sinister to his otherwise already gruesome plan. He continued to follow the man, but that time with more vigilance. When the man reached the Darwin’s neighborhood again, he parked his vehicle at a distance and spend a few more times in the back of his van, when he emerged, Father Ian obscures himself, observed the man’s cautious effort, he surveyed first before finally making the move. He saw him carrying one of the suitcases that he bought, struggling a bit from its weight and then finally moved towards the empty Darwin’s neighbor’s house. To this Fr. Ian Storm was puzzled, and before he could further think about it, the man was already running out of the property, and BoOOM!!! An explosion occurred at the house of the Darwin’s neighbor. Fr. Ian Storm at his confusion quickly made a call to 911 at the nearby phone booth, completely getting out of focus on his target, when he realized it; the man he was following was nowhere, including its van. In frustration, he just warily observed the Darwin’s residence and as if on cue, on time with the multitude sirens of the fire fighter truck arriving, a firefighter quickly busted into the Darwin’s residence.
The following day it was all over the news, it was front page of every major newspaper, one was the fire and another was the headline that tops it all, the gruesome death of a man, highly suspected to be a sexual predator. The man was found in one of the closed old textile Factory of Sandersville, at the direction and information of the lone guard on the property. He narrated, “…the man could have been caught early on if they readily acted with my information, but they didn’t pay attention, they just point me to one officer to another officer, until finally someone believed me, and then send someone to me. I saw the man intent of getting the boy and killing the firefighter, it’s fortunate that eventually the mysterious firefighter prevailed, he was really a hero… and if the other way around happened we could only blame the police for not immediately responding to my information”. But in fairness to the police, at that time, the police was busy handling the disarray the fire causes in the neighborhood, many of them were tasked to take the situation in order, to hasten and arrest the problem of fire in the neighborhood, assist the able people of the Fire Department.
All newspapers were plastered with the gruesome ending of the highly suspected sexual offender and murderer, although an effort was made to conceal the violence, since the photo was in black and white, but still the photo revealed the vicious ending of the man, torso ripped apart and bloodied, head and neck dangling, and worse, multitudes of vermin, feasting on its carcass. It was also reported that apart from the grave threat on Bruce Darwin, the boy who unfortunately was in the middle of it, the school I.D. of the reported missing boy from Medford was found in the possession of the dead suspected sexual offender; the boy was believed to have suffered the same fate as the suspected previous victim from which he was acquitted; both boys were never found and believed to have been abused and brutally murdered by the same man.
At the veranda of the rectory of the St. Jude Church of Medford, a priest was taking his coffee while reading the headlines that said, “Suspected Sexual Predator brutally killed by a mysterious Fireman in a closed factory at Sandersville”. Thedeadman in the paper was Mark Ferdinand, the same man that was acquitted two months ago;ironically, the man was from a prominent family, an MIT graduate, with a penchant for boys who remarkably looks like him. Accused of abducting and killing a six year old boy named Harry Granger, two years ago. The priest fidgets because of the pain above his chest, close to his shoulder, a wound not fatal, but uncomfortable, and for sure inside his clergy shirt dozens of contusions could be found, adding to his discomfort. Last night, when he saw the super quick response of a firefighter, he already knew that the man had something to do about it, especially the immediate appearance of the fireman at the residence of the Darwin’s; there, he deduced that the man had secured a Bunker Gear at the second hand army/navy store; with that, he already knew the next action of the suspect, he readily looked for its black van that was promptly hidden by the suspect. He found it at one of the corner alley in the back street; there he remained hidden until the man would appear carrying with him the boy; he didn’t plan to be entangled with the guy, but when he loses sight of them, he panicked and took the ax from one of the fire trucks for protection; but once inside, something rushes in him, that it seemed somehow a pain inside of him could be erased, if he could do the violent act of protecting the child, Bruce Darwin.
Despite Father Ian’s triumph against the sexual predator, he was uneasy; not just because he could be discovered as the mysterious Fireman. Upon his exits from the dilapidated building, he turned the kid over to one of the paramedics in the numerous ambulances in the incident, and quickly got away and escaped not to be recognized by using the black van of the suspected sexual predator; he took the car keys from his pocket at his death. Then he made sure that all evidenced pertaining to the incident was disposed and would never be found again, by burning it out-of-town, and leaving the van further from the incident, even from his own district. But something else was bothering him, he now knows his place, he had to abide to what destiny holds him.
Chapter III Start of Destiny
…
Mystery-Suspense / Available by: February 2018
