HIS EVE: The Aftermath Chronicles (Book Two)

11 † The Anointing

† "For you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness." - James 1:3 †

//Author's note: Reader discretion advised. Graphic violence.

Abel found great pride in the darkness that followed in the setting of a victorious sun.

His house, his church, grew with each passing day.

From the entrance of his church, the doors close. His chosen disciples all here, that will bear witness to the first female finding acceptance in their sacred rank.

As they take their seats, Abel faces them. Looking each one in the eye, ignoring the girl on her knees that soon would step into their light.

"My brothers, where Jesus had twelve disciples, I shall take on hundreds, if not thousands to bring back the Father's will for the world. Sister Jael will join us on this day, should she pass her tests as the rest of you have. She is but one of two, that our Lord asked for me to take on. Where most left on this Earth are harlots, cons, cheats, this woman shows purity in the eyes of God. Should she pass these tests, we'll know her to be of a true purity, one that hasn't been tainted by the demons walking our earth. Together, my friends, together, we will build a temple after this Armageddon. A temple, that will last a thousand years!"

He takes to Jael's side, his hand pressing gently onto the top of her dark head. Shiny hair, long hair, that sifted like the finest silk through his fingers as he ran them through it.

His disciples have set up all he's asked for the ceremony.

The clawfoot tub pulled from a house a few houses down, sat on the raised platform, his alter, filled with holy water blessed by him and him alone. Above it, the heretic who dared touch his Eve bled out from his wrists, his feet, from the crown of thorns Abel let his disciples give him. Nails pounded into his skull, that weighs down his head in the shame he'll carry into hell.

Releasing the silken hair from his caress, Abel moves past the girl he can't see is keeping her eyes sealed shut and trembling before the altar. He focuses on the table on his alter, prepared with the tools he'll need for the anointing, the consecration, the Lake of Fire.

"So commences the anointing," he says as he holds up the cool brander. The symbol on the end, the crucifix, and his truest name pronounced at the end of the steel. He'd marked so many, but Sister Jael would have to wait her turn.

Moving to the fireplace, he rests it so it'll glow nice and red.

Abel turned to their Sister. Approached her, staring at her as a hungry lion would in studying her face. She stares back, unwavering, which he found curious. No one, not even the men, looked back at him this way.

In her, he saw no fear, nor a threat. Good things, that will be tested on this day. Her day. Her anointing.

"Sister, move before the fire and kneel." He ordered, waiting for her to comply before he returned to his table of tools laid out for him.

He begins, "And the beast was taken, and with him the false prophet that wrought miracles before him, with which he decided them that had received the mark of the beast, and them that worshipped his image. These both were cast alive into a lake of fire burning with brimstone."

He took the switchblade and continues, "But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death."

To the one his love once called CiCi, he approaches. To her turned back he commands, "Rise, Sister. Lift your arms to the heavens."

As she does what's bid of her, he inspects the white frock. An ugly garment, one worn by the women in his order who had yet to find status. Switchblade turning in his hand, he brings it quickly to her. Plunging it, with precision, down the back of her clothing and leaving her naked before the fire.