Thou Shalt Not Kill

Disclaimer: The following story portrays a priest who has "cracked-up" and commits a violent crime. It is not a slight against the catholic religion or priests, it is just something my warped mind made up one day, so please don't take any offense as none was implied.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been two years since my last confession." John Stevenson said quietly in the confession booth at the local church. Stevenson was a well-muscled mechanic who had slicked-back hair and a smugness about him.

"Proceed, my son, and may the Lord forgive you, and accept your penitence." Father Joseph replied formally. He was a young priest who was both dedicated and sincere.

"I have a lot to confess this time." Stevenson continued with a strangely indignant tone in his voice, "Well, there was this girl, and I really liked her, but she hated me. Anyway, to make a long story short, I raped and killed her." He let out a giggle.

Father Joseph remained silent, trying to control the flood of raging emotions he felt.

"Father?" Stevenson asked sympathetically.

"Oh, uhh, I'll be right back, I forgot my bible." Father Joseph rushed out of the booth and said to himself, "My god, what should I do? I can't tell anyone." As he paced back and forth, he devised a plan. Then he headed back to the booth, grabbing a large silver cross on the way for comfort.

"Sorry. Please, continue." Father Joseph croaked. "When did this happen?"

"Last spring. And then there was another one a couple of months ago. She didn't like me either, so I did the same to her." Stevenson grinned to himself.

"Are you sorry for what you've done?

"No, not really." Stevenson said sarcastically.

"Then why are you here?"

"I had nothing better to do."

"You, sir, are damned to burn in hell for all eternity! Father Joseph roared uncontrollably.

"I could use a tan." Stevenson chuckled.

Father Joseph wiped the sweat from his brow as his mind raced frantically. Images of death and violence flooded his mind as he tightened his grip on the cross. He looked down at it, as if looking for an answer. All of a sudden, in a moment of intense stress, Father Joseph plunged the cross through the thin screen and shattered Stevenson's skull instantly. The only said Stevenson could utter was a fait gurgle, as he slipped into an eternal sleep.

"Oh my god! What have I done?!" Father Joseph gasped aloud. "I have to get out of here, I can't breathe!"

Father Joseph stumbled out of the confession booth taking the blood stained cross with him, and fled from the church. He ran as fast as he could as the sky suddenly grew dark and it started to rain. He started to run faster, running away from what he had done, and from what he had become. He continued running as the rain poured down, soaking him to the marrow, until he could run no more. He collapsed on the sidewalk and everything went black.

"Hey, are you alright?" A concerned voice asked softly.

Father Joseph opened his eyes, images of Stevenson bleeding and dead quickly rushed back. He screamed.

"It's alright, you're safe now, and you're going to be alright, Father." The calming voice tried to comfort.

His eyes slowly started to focus. He was in a bed in someone's house, there was a kindly old lady smiling down at him.

"Where am I? What happened?" He managed to croak.

"You're in my house. On the way home last night I saw you face down on the sidewalk, and asked my neighbour to help me bring you in." She answered.

"Am I dead?"

"Heavens no!"

He sat up slowly, his head started to clear a little. "Does anyone know I'm here?"

"No, just me and Albert, my neighbour."

"Good. I have to get out of here." He stood up.

"You are tired, you need rest. She argued.

"Not now, I have to get back."

"At least stay for breakfast."

"No! I have to go!" He hissed.

"Well...fine..." was all the lady could respond.

He rushed to the door, aping as an afterthought, "I'm sorry, I've been under a lot of stress lately. Thanks for everything, God bless you." Then he bolted out the door.

He rushed home and quickly got showered and shaved. He remembered the murderous cross and noticed that it was in the belt of the previous day's robe. He let out a sigh of relief. It was spotless; not a single drop of blood on it. `Must have been washed off by the rain' he thought to himself as he got dressed to go back to the church.

"Father Joseph, where have you been? There's been a murder in the church!" The Monsignor stated.

"I went for a walk. What happened?" Father Joseph asked absent-mindedly.

"It seems that someone disguised as a priest killed Mr. Stevenson while he was in confession."

"Oh? How awful."

"You might want to stick around in case the detective wants to ask you a few questions."

"Sure."

Father Joseph quietly walked through the hoards of police and went into the back office. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers over the silver cross. `What am I going to do? It won't be long before they realize it was me in charge of confessions yesterday. Then they'll know it was me. I have to get out of here!' he thought to himself. He exited the church from the rear and went for another walk. `What have I done?' he kept asking himself, and the only response that rang through his mind was, `Thou shall not kill'. It echoed in his mind until it was all he could hear. He closed his eyes to try and escape it, but all he could see were the words, `Thou shall not kill', as though they were imprinted on his eyelids. He screamed in horror. `I can't take it anymore,' he gasped. The voices grew louder inside his mind, deafening him from all outside sounds. His eyes clenched tightly, not wanting to see the images of Stevenson's bloody corpse, and he ran. He ran blindly not knowing or caring where he was headed. He was deaf to the sound of the train whistle and blind to the flashing lights. Father Joseph was too wrapped up in his insanity to feel the pain as twenty-seven hundred horsepower crushed the life out of him.