Chapter Twenty Nine

But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed.

Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth Sin: and Sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death.”

Father Abraham, “The Holy Word”. 13 Months After.

* * *

Sin.

The most vile curse that this world had ever faced. Ever since that first moment when Adam and Eve defied the Lord’s commands and consumed from the Tree of Knowledge, mankind had been afflicted by Sin. Their purity was forever tainted through this act, along with that of their children, and their children’s children, all the way up until this moment. The Beholding became a mere extension of this betrayal. A boiling point of collective failure that could not be unwound. They had brought Hell to this earth, and now, they lived with Sin with each passing day.

It was only a matter of time before Brother Ezekiel combated this beast in full strength again.

The land blurred wherever he turned, even when cast in the light of the moon. He tried to breathe easy, but found a lump in his throat that refused to disappear. Blood continued to spill from his wounds, no matter how tightly he wrapped them.

And Sin shrouded his mind’s eye, now more than ever.

The fire burned hot in the middle of the clearing, his companions resting nearby. Liam held his daughter close, wheezing every so often himself. The Chosen One had fallen asleep, but she clung to the stuffed bear her father gave her. Its buttoned eyes and face twinkled in the light of the campfire.

Meanwhile, the dead Hunters remained where Ezekiel piled them up on the perimeter of their camp. That would help to keep from attracting beasts and sinners alike.

Leaving only the danger that he could bring.

“How do you feel?” Ezekiel asked to distract from his thoughts.

Liam chuckled. “Far from chipper, but I think we lucked out. I reckon they must’ve missed any major arteries, or I’d be dead by now. So long as the wound doesn’t get infected, I might just get through this without incident.”

“What about your daughter?”

He gave her hair a stroke. “She seems to have pulled through whatever illness she had. Turns out all she’d needed was a few days of rest and some fluids. Thank you for that, by the way.” He kissed her forehead and looked up. “What about you, Ezekiel? How do you feel?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“Do not concern yourself with m-m–” He leaned away.

Liam lurched straight up. “Ezekiel, if you already stuttering…”

“I t-told you, I’m fine.”

He grimaced. “No, you’re not. You’re hollowing. This needs to be treated.”

Ezekiel glared. “What do you know of our kind or the poison in our souls?”

“If I have learned anything for certain, it is that your mind needs sustenance to maintain itself. Barring that, you’ll keep hollowing out until you become one of those sinners you hate so much.” He nudged over his shoulder, out to the dead bodies of Hunters. “Please, you have to eat.”

Ezekiel caught the implication. “That is Sin!”

“No, mate. It’s physiology.”

“You don’t know what y-y-you’re talking about.”

Liam frowned. “I do.”

His fingers curled into balls. This heresy was too much. Especially now. Especially when he was already so weak. His sight fell unwittingly to the wound on Liam’s chest, along with the sweet, crimson nectar that stained the bandages wrapped around his leather hardsuit…

Ezekiel averted his gaze. “I’m going to seek out threats.” He marched off without another word.

A comfortable darkness flooded his sight no sooner than when he left the sanctuary of the fire. The overpowering seduction dissipated with it, and his nostrils once again sucked in oxygen without incident.

Damned be this burden. Ezekiel found a rock to lean against, breathing deep now that the air was clearer. His fingers quaked as he pulled out his copy of the Holy Word. It would take some time for his eyes to adjust enough to read, and many pages had been stained with blood and dirt through so much trauma, but there was little else to do.

When was the last time Ezekiel had felt such temptation before? Many years. More than he cared to remember. Ever since that first moment when Father Abraham blessed him with a new life, he had done everything in his power to embrace his faith.

It was slow, at first. After so many years leading a Sinful life, Ezekiel could not fathom a world in which he craved no living flesh. The Devil had rooted into the depths of his soul, and any alternative proved incomprehensible.

But then he spent more time with his Brothers and Sisters. Where the world had always been dark and rooted in Sin, his congregation found the light through their mutual love of God, of their community, and even each other. Not as mere partners, but on a deep and spiritual level. The longer he lived with his family, the more of their love he felt within himself.

Ezekiel had experimented with many jobs during those early days. He had tried being a farmer, an animal rustler, a blacksmith, and even a woodcutter. All were for naught. No matter how much he strove to better his soul, Sin still found a way to weaken his spirit. Prayer became a constant, and he absorbed many of his community’s resources to keep his healthy mind intact. The fear and shame of his failure only compounded this spiritual crisis to the point where he thought that his Sin would doom their entire congregation.

Until that one day.

One of his Brothers had murdered a Sister, his heart entwined by the Devil’s wrath. The Father pleaded that this man return to the light, but his soul had been corrupted beyond repair, and he no longer valued the warmth and love of his family. He raised a pitchfork against those who drew near, blinded against all else.

Brother Ezekiel stopped him. While the other Beholders fled against such an abrupt display of heresy, he stood his ground. The Lord commanded his fists against this demon. In the end, Ezekiel put him down with ease.

And so the Inquisitors were founded.

Father Abraham saw his strength and guided Ezekiel on a new path. No, he had not been the only one afflicted by Sin. Satan had bored his way through so many others with his false promises. Only through a show of force could this heresy be kept at bay, and Ezekiel was blessed with a strength and skill that remained unrivaled in their camp. It was only natural that he became the head of the Inquisitors. A general for the Lord’s army.

No longer did he feel burdened by the weight of Sin. Not by himself. He could close his mind against his internal struggles and open his eyes to those around him. They suffered against their mortal imperfections and needed a strong hand to guide them back to the light. One beyond reproach, willing to perform the necessary Inquisitions to save his Brothers and Sisters from themselves.

It was all so much simpler during those days.

But who was here now to save Ezekiel from himself? He tried to read scripture from the Holy Word, but his eyes merely slipped from the page at each verse. The words held no meaning, nor could he see God’s love. Without his family to lend him strength, what was he to do?

The wind shifted, and that irresistible fragrance graced his nostrils yet again. His pupils dilated, and his tongue salivated without command.

Blood. Fresh blood. Human blood.

Another thought wormed its way into the deep recesses of his consciousness. Yes, it would all be so easy. Go back the way he came, lift Liam’s puny form up, and bury his teeth into his throat. What did it matter whether he lived or died? Only the girl made a difference, and she cast a lure of her own. If anything, Ezekiel would be doing them all a favor by sating himself against him instead of her.

And he wanted to taste Liam’s flesh too. Craved him, even. The more the thought germinated, the more alluring it became. Why bother fighting against his own nature? As his captive admitted, Sin would claim Ezekiel’s soul soon enough. He could at least indulge this mortal lust one final time!

Perhaps this would be better. In this weakened miasma, it all became so very clear again. Brother Ezekiel was a fraud, borne from an unholy Hunter named Zeke. A killer who roamed the wastelands of this destroyed world, caring for nothing other than to satisfy his personal hunger.

What would stop Ezekiel from going down that road yet again? Zeke had been so much more powerful. He had destroyed so many enemies who’d crossed his path. Why not embrace such heresy? Why let another man’s morality determine his fate!?

A trace of Liam’s scent flowed his way. His nose burned in response.

Ezekiel gripped his cudgel and turned around. There was nothing more to think about, nor alternatives to consider.

Liam had fallen asleep again, and his daughter curled up to do the same. The fire flared, twisting Ezekiel’s torn, black leather armor and cloak into a living shadow, just at the edge of sight. He watched the gentle rise and fall of his meal’s chest and basked in what would come next.

Ezekiel took a step forth. His stomach growled, and he was so very exhausted of combating this sense.

He took another step. It would be nice and easy. Rip off the arm, take a few bites. Maybe even chomp on a leg too. Sink his teeth in and let the scarlet essence flow down his throat.

Another step. Why stop there? The moment he lost a limb, his struggles would only compound. Not even the Lord could save one doomed for death, so perhaps it would be better to consume Liam in his entirety.

Another step. Yes, gnaw his flesh down to the bones, grind his organs into a paste, and allow the compound to ferment between Ezekiel’s teeth. His tongue burned with a desire long gone, ready to claim a feast like this yet again.

A final step. This wasn’t Sin as Liam claimed. It was physiology. An animal’s primal, savage nature. What was the Lord’s love compared to this indulgence?

He looked over the innocent form of his victim. Though the edge of his vision remained obscured by growing Sin, he’d never seen anything with more clarity than the creature that lay in front. The smooth, beige skin that contrasted the grey, peeled mess of his own. The gentle flare of his nostrils as he breathed, and the rise and fall of his chest. The subtle, ever-so-subtle bulge from his neck whenever his heart beat. The sweat leaking from his pores and marinating his flesh into something soft and tender.

Ezekiel did not know how long he stood and watched. His blackened tongue clung to the roof of his mouth. His eyes remained fixed on every nuance of Liam’s movements. His own muscles tensed as he stroked his cudgel.

One good swing. That was all it would take. A single blow to the head, powerful enough to expunge his existence. The rest would flow naturally. His body would respond without error.

And whatever came next, would come next. Not even his purpose as an Inquisitor mattered now. Repentance could only come to those who chose Sin.

Ezekiel raised his cudgel and breathed deep.

The fire crackled. A flicker of light flashed on the surface of the stuffed bear below. Though Liam and Leah continued their slumber, the bear’s head seemed to be pointed up, almost meeting Ezekiel in the eyes with a glare of its own…

He paused. “Hungry,” they called this doll. No more than a few pieces of cloth sewn around stuffing and wood, with buttons for a face and a patch on its gut that protruded out.

Ezekiel watched the doll, his club in hand. Hungry stared back, inanimate and yet knowing. “Life is good,” the patch on his chest read. The fire crackled with an explosion of light again, and the buttons flared with it. He caught a glimpse of his reflection on its plastic surface. Rotted, twisted, and famished. A demon on the cusp of succumbing to Sin.

But Hungry still smiled back, despite the monster in front. “Life is good,” his chest continued to project.

The air caught in Ezekiel’s lungs as the revelation blossomed in the depths of his heart. He dropped the cudgel and stumbled back, the delirium flowing from his mind.

Ezekiel had never heard God before. But now, Ezekiel could die in peace knowing little more than the sense that flooded him. The timing of the fire’s crackle… The angle of the doll’s head… Even the name it had been given… No, this could not have been a mere coincidence. The Lord had stepped in at the last possible moment to gift Ezekiel this vision!

The truth could not be denied. Hunger was born of Sin, an unquenchable thirst that could never be defeated. And through mindless indulgence of this Sin, one could only become a lesser version of oneself. The reverent that Ezekiel saw reflected in Hungry’s eyes burned hot in his mind’s eye.

But what was Sin, but a natural occurrence of life? No matter how penitent the righteous become, that temptation could not be ignored entirely. It could only be suppressed.

Life is good, Ezekiel considered. The thought evolved further, and the sheer brilliance of revelation was almost more than he could bear. Tears flowed, now from joy!

Sin was not something to be stopped. Man had cast his fate the moment he disregarded the Lord’s wisdom in favor of his own hubris. There was no combating this inevitability. Born in Sin, bred in Sin, and dying through Sin.

But this need not be Man’s end. Sin could still be embraced in the proper context. This very Hunger could be claimed as his own and twisted into an engine that created something dignified and beautiful. Life is good. All life. The Lord abandoned no one. Not even the most ravenous of the undead would be free from his eternal, everlasting love. That much, He had shared through this tiny doll as His servant.

The tears continued to fall. God didn’t want Ezekiel to consume Liam’s uncorrupted vessel. He may not be the true Chosen One, but his life was as good as any other. Nor did He wish for Ezekiel to carry the pain alone. Just as Liam and his daughter clung to Hungry to find solace, so too could Ezekiel fill this role. His children would always need to march on the road that He had laid for them.

Together. As one.

But Ezekiel had allowed himself to go astray. No matter how difficult it became for him. No matter how dark the path in front. Life is good. His could not be cast aside so flippantly through hubris. Not when Liam and his daughter remained unsafe.

So long as Ezekiel never forgot this truth, he could always find repentance for whatever Sins he was forced to commit. Failure was not an option.

Ezekiel looked over his shoulders. The dead Hunters still formed their ring around the camp, their skulls radiating out the same dull taste. Cannibalism of any form was a Sin, but compared to the loss of God’s vessel in the flesh, blackening his soul was but a small price to pay. Life might be good, but these heretics had already lost theirs. Why shroud the road ahead in a deeper shadow by ignoring this boon? Why allow the weight of Sin to annihilate his soul? The penitent man would always find his way back to the Lord. No matter what.

Brother Ezekiel limbered to the nearest body, pulled the knife from its corpse, and went to work.

* * *

It was well into the morning of the day after next before Liam awoke from his slumber. His injuries seemed to have troubled him more than he acknowledged, and the pain became apparent as he shifted in place. He even shunned the sun as though it burned his flesh.

“Are you feeling well?” Ezekiel asked.

Liam groaned, giving his punctured hardsuit a rub. “I mean, if you ignore the fact I got shanked by a group of zombies, then sure, I’ve never been better.”

Ezekiel leaned in and sniffed the wound. Though his mouth salivated without command, the Hunger he’d felt no longer troubled him. At least, not more than a passing thought.

“You seem to be healing nicely,” Ezekiel pointed out.

“Easy for you to say, mate.” He leaned over, only to see that his daughter was not there. It took him another moment of disorientation before he found where Leah lay, now wrapped in a blanket between Ezekiel’s arms.

“Don’t worry,” he said, giving Leah a firm stroke with a gloved hand. “She’s fine.”

Liam barred his teeth. “Put her down… Now.”

Ezekiel complied, placing the Chosen One back into her father’s arms. With a wince, Liam fell back into place, once again embracing his child between his arms.

Ezekiel found his own spot beside his. He breathed deep. “I want to thank you, Liam.”

“Oh, and why’s that?”

“Because you saved me from myself.”

He stared without words, his cheeks flushed and brows raised.

“This was not how I imagined this mission would go,” Ezekiel admitted. “When I first came to bring your daughter back to my camp, I thought nothing else mattered than fulfilling this quest. I fought with all my strength, I drove my Brothers to their deaths, and I cared for nothing other than seeing the Lord’s vision reached, even if I lost everyone else in the process. I made you a prisoner to this end.

“But you know what happened when those heretics came? When they sought to see us both killed… You saved me, Liam. Not God. Even though you despise everything I believe and wanted nothing more than my death, you still found it in my heart to save my life. You trusted that I would put your daughter’s life above my own, even if we were still enemies.”

He sighed. “And the inexplicable truth is how right you were, Liam. After a lifetime of viewing this world through the lens Father Abraham gave me, I thought there was no other way to follow God than through His messengers. But the genius of God is that He speaks to all of us. Even those who spit in His face.”

He grinned. “It is a strange feeling, I’ll admit. The Father believes himself above reproach, but I now see that he only recognizes a fraction of His glory. He does not see that we are both as loved as everyone else and deserve to embrace the life we’ve been given. For what it is worth, Liam, I am truly sorry for the hardships I have inflicted upon you through my arrogance.”

Liam stared deep, trying to pierce into the depths of his soul. “What are you saying right now?”

Ezekiel stood up and held out his palm. “I would like for you to take my hand. Not because you feel compelled by force, but because we both can walk through the same darkness on the path to the light.” He beamed. “I want us to march through this country not as enemies but as true friends. I want you to be my Brother who I can trust, and I want you to view me in the same light. Neither of us should be alone out here.”

His cheeks reddened, and he studied the hand in front.

Liam embraced Ezekiel. “Now we’re talking, mate.”


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