THIS IS A COLLABORATION WITH @@TzeeNNTcH

HIS AMAZING ART INSPIRES THIS STORY AND THE STORY INFLUENCES HIS ART. 😁

BE ADVIED, THIS STORY INCLUDES DARKER CONTENT.  ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTIONAL AND ABOVE THE AGE OF 18.

(The time of the Inquisition. Somewhere in France.)

Martina was so skilled at what she did for many reasons, not the least of which was her ability to focus. But today she felt like she was going through the motions. Martina was distracted. Not distracted by the muffled whimpering of the pathetic sinner she was cleansing with pain. No. Martina ignored the young prostitute’s excuses as she stuffed her mouth.. She extinguished the light of her pleading eyes with a thick blindfold. She subdued her struggling body with heavy iron chains. No. Martina was not distracted by the terrified, helpless young girl she’d bound to the torture frame. It was the cryptic message a courier delivered. A message from a childhood friend she had not seen in 15 years or more. A message asking for help. In fact, begging for help. A message saying that her long lost friend was in trouble. That possibility is what Martina was so distracted by. That is because Martina knew from experience that people who are in the kind of trouble that would cause them to desperately reach out to someone as cruel as her are usually the kind of people who have sinned. And sinners must be cleansed by pain. Martina decided then and there to seek out her friend and deliver the Lord’s judgement.

Now comfortable with that matter that had occupied her thoughts, she leaned back on the cold iron lever that turned the rack’s axel and stretched the girl tied down upon it. The girl’s painful cries echoed off the subterranean stone walls. “Poor creature,” Martina thought as she began cutting her provocatively colorful clothes from her wretched body. “We’ve only just begun the necessary work to cleanse you of your sins. And you have so, so much to atone for.” Martina pulled the lever slowly and firmly again, and the naked girl was pulled apart even further. She cried out to God for mercy. “God has left you with me, Little One. The only mercy will find here is your death. But not soon. No. Not for quite a while.”

-----

Genevieve’s family carried an ancient, terrible curse. Her family tried to flee from it when she was just a girl growing up among the farms in Provence. And they’d managed to delay the payment that was required. They’d even dared hope that the Lord had lifted their burden from them entirely. But such hope was utter folly. “You knew deep down this was coming, Jenny,” she murmured to herself as she dashed along the overgrown path. Jenny was following a route that was as much a part of her family as her name. The directions were imprinted on the heart of every generation at birth. Maybe even at conception, when the Lord sends a soul from heaven to occupy each and every frail, human form. It was a path willing walked alone by every chosen member of her people from the times that God and the Devil wrote the terms of their truce that paused the war between Heaven and Hell.

But Jenny was different than her ancestors. She was far removed from the days when her people prayed, and the Lord actually spoke back to them. Jenny had been blessed with more logic than faith, which is why she devised to seek help from the one person she knew who may be capable. The one other anointed servant of God that she could think of that just might follow her directions and find her in this unholy place. But that’s only one of the reasons Jenny was different. Jenny also wasn’t traveling the path alone.

--------

It has been a long journey from Paris back to the familiar fields and forests of Provence. But Martina had arrived in time. The young prostitute succumbed to the needed cleansing quicker than most. Martina lifted her soul up to God but had little faith the Lord would accept such an unrepented sinner into his house. At least she hoped not. For that is the house where Martina aimed to dwell, and she wished no part of sharing her eternity with weaklings and cowards such as this. Nonetheless, Martina thanked the Lord for helping her finished her task and guiding her to this spot. She was sure this was an omen that she had been led here for an important purpose. Martina prayed for resolve to handle what must be done, whatever it may be, and stepped into the moon lit clearing.

“Thank God, Martina, you came!” Jenny was standing in the entrance of a small stone crypt. Its walls looked rough and ancient. There were no windows or carvings typical of headstones and burial markers of the region. But somehow, the drab and clunky structure seems to belong perfectly in this mysterious clearing.

“Hello Genevieve. Of course, I came. I was surprised to hear from you after all these years. But you mentioned an ordeal you needed deliverance from. And I will travel any distance to do the Lord’s work.” Martina’s voice was calm, and her smile was forced. There was none of the joy or warmth that Jenny remembered from when they were children.

“The matter I wrote to you about. It’s inside. I’ll show you,” Jenny stepped back into the small, shadowy space. Martina followed her inside. The chamber was a six-by-six-foot square. The roof was low but both women were able to stand upright. Jenny was busy lighting a lantern resting on the only object in the room, which was a low stone table or bench. Its unusual height made it poorly suited for either function.

“Genevieve. I mean, Jenny. What is this family matter I’ve come to help you with? You said something about a terrible evil price. I hope you have not fallen into any dark temptations.” Martina was already resolved to the likelihood that this was the case. If the Lord had brought her here to cleanse an childhood friend, Martina would accept the burden.

“No dear friend. I have not sinned. I have lived a good life.” Jenny was slowly moving around the curvy low table. As she did, the lantern illuminated different parts of the walls. And Martina could not see that they were carved with characters of a language she did not know. “At least, not if loving is a sin.” Jenny’s hand reached down and touched her stomach. Martina noticed the subtle but telling motion.

“No, Jenny. Love is a gift from God. It is not a sin.” Martina was feigning interest in the shadowy carvings as she mirrored Jenny’s steps around the table. “But sometimes, actions taken in the name of love can be…. abominable in the Lord’s eyes.” Jenny had completed a turn around the small space. She signed heavily and leaned on one hand in the middle of the table.

“Martina, we are both anointed. Chosen to do God’s bidding and sacrifice in service unto him.” Jenny leaned back away and slowly drew her hand from the table. “The difference is that I did not make this choice, either for myself or for this unborn child. But you! You did choose it. But you’re corrupted. You’re twisted. God is NOT served by your actions.” A smear of red remained on the table where Jenny’s hand had been. She stepped backward.

“Blasphemy!” Martina shrieked as she lunged too late for Jenny’s arm. She landed on her stomach, laying across the table. A sound like grinding stone was slowly building. Martina looked around but could not detect its source. Jenny was now stepping out into the clearing.

“I am sorry old friend. Even if everything I’ve heard about your life since you left Provence is true, you still do not deserve this.” Strong, hot gusts of air blow up around Martina, seemingly coming from between the stones of the floor. “But neither do I, and definitely, neither did my child.” And then like a whip cracking, two long, black tentacles shot up from the floor. On wrapped tightly around Martina’s ribs and also captured one of her arms. It held her down onto the table. The other wrapped around her thighs, squeezing them together with tremendous force.

“What demonic sorcery is this?!” Martina cried. Two more tentacles followed. One grabbed the wrist of her free arm. The tentacle dragged it around behind Martina’s back. The other began slowly and gently slithering around her throat. The many other smaller tentacles sprouted out from the four main ones. They began reaching out for her wrists and ankles. Martina was methodically being tied hand and foot and tethered down to the stone surface.

“I am so sorry, Martina. God have mercy on us both.”

“No, you sinner! I renounce your prayer. I do not need God’s mercy! I have been righteous! And I will become God’s vengeance! I swear that I will come …mmmphhhh!” The tentacle around her throat had spouted smaller ones that had invaded Martina’s mouth. She writhed and twisted but she could not pull away. Her mouth was pack full and wrapped tightly so barely a sound could escape. Her wrists were now crossed and tied behind her. Her arms were welded to her sides by the powerful shadowy appendages. Martina struggled fiercely but futilely, never even contemplating praying to her God for deliverance.

Jenny turned away and left the clearing back onto the path. She did not wish to see what was happening behind her. She prayed that her family curse had been lifted and transplanted onto Martina. She also prayed for forgiveness for her selfish and deceptive act. But she knew she didn’t have a choice. She knew her child was meant for something other than damnation. And even if Jenny had damned herself, at least she’d spared her child.

The stone crypt rumbled. More hot air poured up from around the structures base as it descended, slowly at first, and then more rapidly. Martina never stopped struggling and trying to call out, even as she watched the earth rising up over what had been the opening to the crypt.

----------

THE END OF SAINTHOOD WILL CONTINUE