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The Last Days of Parrsboro

by Eakin

Chapter 17: 11/1/2014

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11/1/2014

Everything is in place. The Heart sits on the altar, runes carved into place just as she prescribed. All who gaze at it are filled with awe, at both the craftsmanship and the future it represents. We’re ready to bring Her love to the world, to fill every mind with nothing but the purest devotion, ready to be remade by Her will. The worthy and faithful will be rewarded. The others will be forgiven... perhaps. It is not our place to question Her judgement, only to bring about Her desires. One member of the congregation steps up, unable to control himself, and presses his palm onto the sacred relic. The Heart glows, and the man doubles over as he begins to scream. Two others step up and pull him away, dragging him to the side of the room where there’s space as his flesh starts to warp and change.

When it stops, he’s beautiful.

The chanting starts. Through the window a burst of colors not of this world sears at our vision. Closing ones eyes does nothing. The light burns through our eyelids like flame through tissue paper.

It won’t be long now.

11/2/2014

11/2/2014

We knew they would come, and we knew just as certainly that it would be too late. Many have fallen before their tanks and bullets, giving everything to protect this inner sanctum. The chanting has reached a crescendo, but it still isn’t enough to drown out the staccato chatter of machine gun fire. Nor can it overpower the screams, most of them human, a few of them not. The Way has begun to open, rending the sky above as powers beyond comprehension prepare to rewrite everything into perfection. We are not alone in our struggle; She has blessed us with Her heralds, creatures with only the tiniest fraction of Her true strength to aid us in this fight. If the soldiers approaching were smart, they would throw down their weapons and cast themselves upon Her loving mercy. Perhaps they might be allowed a moment to look upon Her wondrous visage before they’re torn apart.

Another sound rises above all the others. It’s laughter. Her glorious, terrible laughter makes the very walls and foundation of our building tremble, the beams above our heads creaking dangerously and starting to splinter. They will not last long. But they will last long enough.

1/1/000001

1/1/000001

The Way is open.

The Sun has risen.

She walks among us.

FriendS FoRevEr fRieNds fOrevEr frIenDs you’ll FoREver FriEnDs never fRiENds FoREvEr FriEnDs run foReVer fRieNds FOrEver far FRiENdS fOrEvER FriendS enough FOREVER

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