Diaries of a Holy Knight: The Re-Belious.
By: Jeremiah Cayne Francis Knight.
No one can serve two masters. Either you will love the one and hate the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money. Mathew 6:28
Introduction: A war of words.
“What have you done?” Exclaimed an incredibly obese old man standing next to two other fat old men looking over the body of a teen boy late at night in the middle of the Gulf State Park in Gulf Shores Alabama.
They exchange looks of worry as they begin to reach down for him. He is still breathing but just barely, his struggling chest heaves are clearly defined in the pale moonlight. The boy’s body is covered in dark purple spots from his face to the visible parts of his legs.
“It had to be done.” The largest of these tubby men replied in a British accent. “The boy was too fast- even for us.”
They shrug it off and pick the boy up onto their shoulders with minimal effort, especially for men as advanced in age as they were. The old guys are well dressed in formal suits, which would propose a sketchy situation in the middle of these woods at this time of the evening. And all of them are something else as well- they are all possessed.
They look like normal humans, sure enough, but inside evil spiritual forces have infested them, willingly or otherwise, and now control their actions. These suited men are not without humanity, it is just somewhat lacking as of late. The young man they are carrying away wasn’t altogether a bad kid either, he just didn’t do what he was supposed to, leading to his current state.
As the men trudged along trying hard to move in unison, bickering with every step, they were stopped dead in their tracks by an unforeseen circumstance. It was the cops. A squad car was now resting on the edge of the woods that the men were moving through. They could clearly see the police officer with his spotter desperately searching the interior of the woods for something, but if it was for them he was a long way off, and they wished to keep it that way.
They got low and started in the opposite way of the officer, which brought some grumbling between them. Some wished to sneak up and kill him thus saving time in their endeavor, while the leader of the group argued that they couldn’t tell if this cop was one of theirs or not, and thought that they all needed a good hike since they were all fat old men. They reluctantly agreed and carried on away from the peacekeeper.
The Owls hooted and the bats found sources of food as the men were approaching their destination. The familiar smell of a cafeteria was a staunch clue that they were closing in on their target. The trip would’ve been faster if the fattest of the suited men didn’t twice step in coyote plop. Apparently this particular area of the park was riddled with it. They were just yards away now from their sanctuary, but as I said before, these men were obese and fell over from exhaustion at the edge of the woods. They desperately needed a break; at least that is what they claimed.
Through the trees the Gulf Shores High School could clearly be seen as the main lights of the building were on, signifying a nighttime event, but this late at night was unheard of. Outside of the school appeared to be empty beyond a handful of cars separated by some distance throughout the parking lot to make it look like they were broken down or left behind. The fattest man, with a white beard covering his face and liver spots on his neck, popped out of the woods to survey the scene. After some time returning to give the others the all clear.
Altogether the old men grabbed up the boy and quickly hauled him up to the front entrance. The oldest man darted his eyes every which way as they approached the door. The smallest of the fat men rapped his knuckles along the door three times and not in any particular order. Inside, through the glass, a light appeared and behind it the sinister face of an old woman. Her eyes lifeless, her skin grey, and weathered. Her expression cold, as she unlatched the lock allowing the men and their “guest” access into the school.
“Took you long enough.” The old crone hissed in a gloomy alto voice.
“We were delayed by unforeseen circumstances,” The fattest man replied in a huff, “and Jones stepping in animal excrement ended up being an added ordeal. Now if he’s still mad about that then he’ll just have to get over himself.”
“How dare you mock the Uber Demon!” The old crone spat letting them in. “He would gut you for that if he were here!”
“I’d just have to find another body, no big deal. Maybe a skinnier one next time?” The man jeered as the group followed the old lady through the halls of the school. They came to the end of a rather long corridor that dead-ended into a brick wall in front of them. Plastered to it was a life-sized poster of a more than middle-aged man with a light pink suit covered with a yellow vest. The vest matched half of his hair since the over half was pink. This man wore a nameplate signifying that he was the Principal of the school, and the word “OBEY,” repeated across the backdrop.
The smallest man again rapped three times but on the wall in front of them, and immediately the wall disappeared revealing a passage leading down. The red glow of some unseen source was visible along the tunnel as the thick smell of burning meat immediately filled their noses, and instead of recoiling from it’s intensity they began to smile, wider and wider with every whiff. The group descended the cut stone steps surrounded by concrete walls for more than five minutes before finding the source of the red glow. It was a fire, raging in an open pit just off to their right with burnt hunks of meat laying in the middle. Along the fire were other well-dressed people and the man from the poster at their head. The Principle looked very upset as they approached.
“How old is that child Mr. Ratner?” The Principal asked.
“I know where you’re going with this and we are very-”
“HOW OLD IS HE!” The Principal demanded.
“15, your most evilness.” Mr. Ratner replied in his thick British accent.
“So, can you please explain to us how it took you four hours to retrieve a fifteen year old human?” The Principal spat. “And why is he so bruised? What did you do to him?
“We stopped him with non-lethal force as instructed your most evilness.” Mr. Ratner complained. “As far as the time issue… we are in fat bodies and this young man can run, I mean really run. We were hindered in our return by police conducting a search near here, and Mr. Jones has an aptitude for finding piles of coyote defecate, particularly with his feet.”
“Well,” the Principal spoke, “that would explain the smell. It matches that of your job performance.”
The group surrounding the flames erupted into laughter as the three fat men hung their heads in shame. The sound was great enough to wake the teenaged boy who suddenly struggled out of the grips of the old men falling hard onto the ground. The boy’s eyes were wild as they searched the room, and he slowly backed himself away from the people.
“No! Leave me alone! You can’t have me!” The teen yelled as he flailed his arms like a madman.
“Mr. Kyle, no one wants to hurt you, son.” The Principal said in a calm tone. “We are all here for you to take a step in the right direction. And we, here, can give you that step. Fame, fortune, a fantastic life, if you would but say the words-”
“No! You’re monsters and you hurt me! You’re the bad guys!” Kyle yelled
“Are we Kyle? Are we?” The Principal sighed as he walked in front of the teen still on the floor. “Those Christians out there with their extremist views and bigotry are the bad guys- not us. Your friends, the Holy Knights, have set fire to this school, killing dozens for their delusional beliefs, but we’re the bad guys? Don’t make me puke with disgust.”
“There wasn’t a single person harmed in that fire.” Kyle said.
“Details…” The Principal insisted.
“And… You hurt me.” Kyle stammered
“Your friend, and member of the Holy knights, Justin Smith, beat you almost to death, leaving you for the wolves before scampering off. But we’re the bad guys?” The Principle reasoned. “Those bruises you sustained were from my people trying to help you down the stairs, but unfortunately you fell. By the time you woke up your were raving about us being demons and you took off into the woods screaming like a mentally ill person. You eventually knocked yourself out on a branch some miles away. My people found you and brought you back. You could have been eaten by an alligator! We were worried sick about you.”
“You were?” Kyle asked.
“Of course. We like you Kyle. Now think clearly for a second, what were you afraid of?”
“I was told this is where people are made into demons-”
“And who told you these lies?” The Principal asked as he turned to face the teen.
“The Holy Knights… But they were-”
“And do you see any demons here, Mr. Kyle?” The Principal said as he stepped close to him.
“No… No sir, I don’t. But, why do you want me?” Kyle asked as he got up.
“Because, my dear boy, we see great potential in you.” The Principal embraced the boy in a one-armed shoulder hug. “All you have to do to obtain our money, popularity, and lifestyle is speak these words now and get your friends to say them. Four simple words that matter nothing at all- ‘There is no God’.”
“So all I have to do is say those words.” Kyle questioned as he started a debate in his head; the Principal moved over to the crowd. One of the members handed him an envelope with Kyle’s name written in large letters on it. The letters were the same color as the Principles hair.
“That’s all you need to do.” The Principal said as he moved forward and handed Kyle the envelope. “I heard that your parents were in risk of foreclosure on their house. These things are terrible, and are to be blamed on the super-rich people in our country. Can you tell me how much they needed… if you don’t mind?”
“295,000 dollars, but how did you-”
“Look in the envelope” the Principal reassured.
Kyle opened up the envelope and inside was a paid-in-full receipt, from the Bank, on the mortgage that his parents owed, signed by someone by the name of Malek. He almost fell over in relief because his parents were at odds with each other, even threatening divorce, over the money situation. He was also afraid because he didn’t want to lose his friends — he wasn’t very good at making them.
“What is this?” Kyle asked anxiously
“A gift. You see if you are with us we can make your every dream come true. Because we take care of our friends, unlike those hypocrite Holy Knights. Just say the words and you’re in. Simple as that. What harm could just a few insignificant words do? They are just words, no use having a war over them.”
“Yeah.” Kyle agreed as the both of them moved over to the fire. “I mean what harm could a few words do?”
The boy spoke the words “There is no God” and as soon as he did a demon walked out of the fire. Kyle fell back in fear but was mobbed by the group of people that were surrounding the fire. They pinned him in place as the Demon advanced. These people, although old in appearance were incredibly powerful and easily held him there without so much as a shudder in any direction.
“Let go of me you monsters! What is that thing?” Kyle stuttered in as he stared at the beast in horror.
“Your new master Mr. Kyle.” The Principal said standing just beyond the monster with a smile on his face. “It seems that just words come with a heavy price. But rest assured, not that it will matter much after this evil spirit takes control of you, that your house is paid for. So we can keep you around for a time, and dump you when we’re finished- probably dead… no, definitely dead.”
“But, why me?” Kyle asked again as the demon was close enough for its stinky breath to blow back Kyle hair. “I’m not special. I used to be a bully-”
“Precisely what I need you to start doing again. Since you belong to the Holy Knights it will show people that they, and their ideologies, are weak starting a tidal wave of backlash against the group. And you will be our General, recruiting others like yourself. Bring them here and after a while we shall have an army great enough to crush the Holy Knight biggots, once and for all.”
“But that would bring direct conflict between you two. Josiah isn’t going to just sit around and let you do this. He’ll start a war!”
“Oh, my dear child, that is exactly what I am hoping for.” The Principal spoke as the demon climbed into the young man. The teen’s screams stopped and the boy was claimed for evil, over words.
This is heavily unedited and is subject to change before the release of Diaries of a Holy Knight: The Re-Belious 2018. Thank you for your support of Diaries of a Holy Knight: The In-Between. You are Awesome and I believe in your Dream!!!