Devil’s Counsel

Sally McCathy knelt before the altar. The church stood empty as it often had ever since the scandal broke. Ever since it was discovered that Father Ootanagi had been using the Church’s refugee outreach as a front for human trafficking.

‘Ootanagi…’ Sally’s hands tightened. Her heart burned. She hated the man. He’d seemed so kind, so wonderful, so patient. She’d been willing to trust her soul to him. She’d been deceived. She ground her teeth. He’d taken this Church, where she and Noah first connected, and used it as a snare.

Sally hated the man. It made her feel like shit. She was focused on hating a man when she was supposed to be praying for the wisdom to save Noah’s home. She just couldn’t take her mind off hating him. What was it the Lord had said while He walked? ‘Love thy enemy?’ How could you love someone like Ootanagi? Sally frowned. She couldn’t. Maybe finding and reading the actual verse would help her understand the message.

Sally pulled out her phone. She opened her browser. The NKJ was already opened. She searched Matthew 5:44.

‘Pray for those…’ Sally focused on the line that applied to her. Ootanagi had maliciously abused his position and used his parishioners to lure poor souls to a monstrous fate. She bit her tongue. She didn’t think she could pray for that bastard. He was a sinner worse than anything she’d believed possible. She couldn’t do it.

Noah could. He probably was praying for Ootanagi right now. Sally’s grip loosened slightly. He was too damn good a person to gnash his teeth like this during prayer. Maybe… maybe that was the path forward for Sally. Maybe she could just say what Noah would say.

“Oh Heavenly Father, please watch over your wayward son Ootanagi. He has strayed Great Lord. Please show him mercy.”

“He did.” A chill ran up Sally’s spine as a familiar voice rang behind her.

Sally turned. She beheld a man with slicked-back black hair. The man sat perfectly in the pew. His back was straight. His eyes fixed forward, looking past Sally. His gaze locked on the tabernacle as if he were searching it for any sign that his voice offended what dwelt within.

“Myoga found him before I did.”

Sally stood. The air prickled with tension. Every fiber of her being screamed that this man was dangerous. That any moment this could devolve into a shootout. Yet… her hands were locked to her side. She couldn’t raise her arm. She didn’t know why.

“If I had found him first…. Well, it’s best not to speak of such work before God.”

The man looked finally looked at Sally. Those cold blue eyes locked with hers. They were familiar eyes. She’d last seen them in August.

“Desolator.” Sally breathed.

“Ms. McCathy.” Desolator nodded.

Sally tried to will her hand to rise. She wanted to point her palm at the villain in front of her. She wanted to demand his surrender. She wanted to end this farce once and for all! ‘Too close! Too close!’ A tiny voice whispered in her head. Her arm refused to rise. Was she scared?

“What are you doing here?!” Sally demanded through gritted teeth. How dare he speak to her?! How dare he interrupt her prayer?! HOW DARE SHE BE SCARED?!

Desolator frowned. “I came to apologize.”

“what?” The surprise briefly overwhelmed Sally’s indignation.

“I understand my junior partner, Nox, inconvenienced you and Mr. Abrams while you were on a date. That was not my intention. Rest assured, she will not target you again.”

“Did you kill her?” A cold pit welled in Sally's stomach… yet, there was also a kernel of something… was it excitement? Gratitude? Satisfaction? She prayed it wasn’t.

“Of course not.” Desolator smiled. The kernel of vile feeling vanished from Sally’s stomach, but the way Desolator smiled… he knew. He knew what it was. She almost asked. She wanted to vomit. “But we did have a frank discussion on what is an acceptable target.”

“Yeah right.” Sally snapped. “You probably set that up. You wanted me to show how weak I am. Show that I need you--”

“I don’t recruit the weak.”

Sally shook her head. That didn’t make sense. It had to be-- “Why?”

“Why did Nox target you? I’m pretending it was an accident.”

Sally’s jaw tightened, that wasn’t what she meant to ask-- “But if you’re asking why would I recruit you? You have talent. Look at you now. On instinct, you wanted to blow my head off, but you didn’t.”

Desolator unfolded his hands, revealing a small knife not more than 2 inches long. “On some level, you noticed I was armed. Then reasoned I was too close for your hand to come up before I was on you. That’s talent.”

Sally’s stared at the knife. He was wrong. She hadn’t seen that… had she?

“And when a talented individual is about to be fucked over, I want her to know she has options.”

“‘About to be fucked over?’ What the fuck are you talking about?!” Sally regretted the question as soon as it left her lips. From the sickly sweet smile on Desolator’s lips, she knew she’d fucked up. There was a trap in that question. Something Desolator wanted her to hear and he knew she’d only be able to hear him if she asked for it.

“There is a certain faction within the United States’ Hero Agency that is doing everything within their power to see you expelled from Shiketsu and brought back to the States so that you may be retried federally.”

“Wh—” Sally clamped her mouth shut. She’d already fallen for his trap once.

“Were you about to ask Who or Why?” It didn’t matter, she was ensnared.

“Both.”

“No.” Desolator’s smile sucked the light out of the room. Sally felt very cold.

“No?”

“If I tell you, you’ll try to solve it yourself. That would be… unfortunate.”

“You’re lying.”

“I seldom lie.”

“It’s insane.”

“Yes,” Desolator’s eyes flitted towards the tabernacle. “but in a rational world, we’d all be happy.”

“...”

Silence reigned. The still air seemed to thrum with anxiety as Sally found herself contemplating Desolator’s words. The idea of a government agency being out to get her appealed to her deeply ingrained sensibilities regarding the Federal government. Yet, she couldn’t believe it, not really. She was so small. She should be incidental to their grand conspiracies… maybe she was. Maybe she was just a bug swept along as part of the river’s flow.

Sally neither believed nor distrusted Desolator at that moment. She couldn’t bring herself to believe he was telling the truth, but she couldn’t think of a reason for him to lie either. She couldn’t see what he’d gain out of telling her such a preposterous story. So… she asked.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I owe you,” Desolator answered simply. “Nox targeted you because of my interest in you. In my mind that gets you a freebie.”

Sally felt that vile feeling form in her stomach again. That awful feeling she couldn’t identify. “A-a what?”

“A freebie. A favor. One job completely free, no strings attached.”

“I don’t understand.” Sally protested. She understood.

“Let me spell it out then: this government conspiracy that has its sights on you? Ask me to deal with it.”

Sally’s mind was blank.

“Just say the word and you’ll never hear from them.”

“Wh-- will you kill people?”

“Probably.” Desolator shrugged. “I can try to do it without bloodshed if you prefer, but it might not be possible.”

“N—” The word died in Sally’s throat. She wanted to say no.

“Just say the word.” Desolator prodded.

Why couldn’t she just say ‘no?’ She could handle it. She had Noah. She had God. She could--

“Just ask.”

“No.” Sally finally choked out. Desolator merely smiled. “I see what you’re doing. You want me to sign someone’s death warrant. You want me to—”

“I want you to look out for yourself.” Desolator interrupted again. “But, there’s no rush. Should you ever change your mind--”

“I already said NO!!!”

“--I left my pager number in your pocket while you were praying.” Desolator continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “And a gift for the Church.”

Sally reached into her pocket in outrage. She felt nothing.

“Your other pocket.” Desolator gently corrected.

Sally reached into her other pocket as instructed. She felt two pieces of paper. She pulled them out in a fury. One was a business card. No name was written, just a pager number in big black bold letters. The other was a check, folded once.

Sally reeled back her arm. She intended to throw the papers in Desolator’s face. She would not live with this temptation in her pocket! The check fluttered open. She saw the number written on it. It was a lot of zeros. She froze.

Desolator smiled. “It’d be a shame to condemn this Church to closure out of pride.”

Sally stared at the check. Eight zeroes were staring her in the face. She wasn’t perfect at currency conversions, but it had to be over a million USD. She looked up at Desolator. She didn’t know what to do.

“Why?”

“Every Christian must look after the Master’s house.” Desolator nodded towards the tabernacle.

Sally’s outrage, indignation, confusion, and embarrassment coalesced into a strained laugh. A Christian?! Him?!

“Was something I said amusing?”

“You’re a killer!”

“As are you.”

Sally stopped laughing. Those words cut her deeply. “I--” She tried to find a response. The words died in her throat. She was a murderer. That was true. She almost said ‘I’ve only killed once.’ But that… that didn’t make her feel better. It didn’t matter to her that she’d only done it once while Desolator had done it hundreds, maybe thousands, of times.

“As were many Christians.” Desolator comforted her.

It didn’t make Sally feel better that she’d sinned less. The fact that she’d sinned at all made her ashamed.

“My own patron, St. Julian--”

“Aren’t you ashamed?” Sally interrupted.

“Pardon me?”

Sally shook her head. “Every time I think of the people I killed. All I can think is that I should’ve checked my load. I should’ve popped the chamber just to be sure. I’m ashamed that I didn’t. I was taught better. Why aren’t you? How can you just sit in front of God and not be ashamed of what you’ve done?”

Desolator looked Sally in the eye. His voice wasn’t quite as confident as it was before. He was… troubled. “I… have regrets.” He admitted. “But most of the people I’ve killed had it coming one way or another.”

Sally didn’t see a lie in his eyes. “Then I envy you,” Sally admitted. “Those people I killed. They were just thieves. They didn’t deserve to die.”

“They didn’t deserve to live either,” Desolator argued. His eyes wandered above the altar. Sally unconsciously followed his gaze. He was looking at the Church’s crucifix, suspended from the rafters. Nailed to the Cross was an image of the Lord, His features frozen in agony. Sally always found herself looking away from the Crucifix when she was sitting in Church. She’d been raised protestant. The idea of displaying God’s suffering like this caused bile to rise in her throat. It almost felt like they were mocking His sacrifice.

“None of us do.”

Sally whirled on Desolator, but he was gone. He’d vanished like a spirit. The only evidence that he’d ever been here was the check and that infernal business card, burning her hand like a piece of hot coal.