Bible: American Standard Version: Gen 6:5: "And Jehovah saw that the wickedness of man was great in the Earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually." The Child opened its' eyes. Black enshrouded the surrounding walls. Miniscule lights flickered occasionally from the small assortment of machinery that monitered the house. The Child turned to it's side. It looked at the readout on his plasmatic alarm clock. '12:23 PM.' Later than mother had ever been up since she had taken her second job. 'Then why is the hall light on?' Th glow through the partly opened door stood out garishly against the dark. A sudden shout caused The Child to bolt upright. A man had yelled something... The child listened intently. Now strange voices, barely audible, wafted to the alert ears of the Child. Small phrases could be caught... 'Demon-child deserves what's comin' for him...' 'Get out of our way, heathen!' 'Please! Stop!' 'He had not intended this sin; it must be destroyed.' The voices were steadily growing. The Child knew what was coming: The church had taken action; the he-she was to be executed. The Child jumped out of bed and yanked open his desk drawer. It pulled out a small black box and placed the strange device on it's pillow, grabbed the rucksack hidden behind the desk, and-on impulse-stuff the photo of the Child and it's mother in to the sack. The Child could hear their heavy footfalls now, and it knew there was little time. It flipped a switch on the box, then jumped through the intelliplast window. The bio-generic substance flowed around the Child as if it were a liquid. The men rushed in to the room, wielding an assortment of torturous devices that only the church could conceive. The man in front wildly scanned the room. Ignoring the box, he threw himself on to the bed and began hacking away with his knife. The box flew in to the air, a small screen flickering on one face: 3... 2... 1... A miniature door was opened within the box, allowing the bicarbonate acid to react with the petroleum. The resulting explosion forced every occupant of the room down and back, breaking spines and skulls aplenty. The strength of the box combined with the tools of the churchmen caused devestating slaughter; all-around death was instantaneous. The Child observed from the boughs of a nearby Blueleaf Maple. Blood-red streaked the sky with a mixture of plasteel-gray. The Child knew their chances of survival were minimal, and that anybody who did live was probably incapacitated. He jumped nimbly to the ground and picked his way around the rubble. The ghoulish massacre around it was somehow not registered. Shock of what had just happened had taken control of it's mind, and it's course of action stuck to the plan devised by mother. Upon encountering her body, the Child unbuttoned her jacked and reached in to a metal-weave protected pocket. Inside was a small slip of paper, and written upon it was a message: "Hello and Goodbye, my child. My only regret is that your affliction should be a burden to you, and not some other being. Assuming you have stuck to the plan thus far, I will never see you again. Do not let our planning be in vain! Go, go now! Search for the kind doctor. He will know how to help you. Goodbye, my child... goodbye, Sin." 'Overly dramatic as always...' was all Sin could manage. The realization of what he had just done was still out of reach, but Sin knew it would come eventually. It would just have to continue to live the lie until the truth hit. Failure to the plan was NOT an option. Sin knew that, even though Sin's importance had not yet been revealed. All Sin knew was that the church no longer valued the Child, and that removal of the obstruction to power was vital. Sin had to fight. It was all it had left, right?
Wow, this is an awesome story! Really, I was hooked on the story the first few sentences. You should be an author when you grow up.
