Petra Monroe, Gluttonous Herald

Blessed be those who throw themselves at the mercy of the divine. Blessed be those who satiate the hunger of their betters. Blessed be those who ask no questions and give no protest. Blessed be those who slide down my throat and grant me eternal bliss…

I’m moulded in the shape of an angel. Can’t you tell? They aren’t all porcine figures with dainty wings. The angels I know are nothing like yours.

Do you ever become so lost in your faith? So lost that only a spiritual frenzy seems to drive you? So lost that others become nothing more than constructs and blurs as you do whatever you can to consume the righteous divine? Just me?

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I know I’m perfect to the Lord. Whether I’m perfect to you is a different matter altogether. Let’s call this a test of faith. You know what I can do with you in the name of the divine. You know what I’m capable of. Have faith I’ll be gentle.

Bless the sinners. Thats what they told me to do when confronted with these heathens. Bless them for they know not what they do. How can they be so blind? What good is a church of mercy? An altar of hope, forgiveness? My Lord is a being of vengeance. Punishment. You will see.

There’s a thin sliver between heaven and hell, and we walk within it. It doesn’t take much to cross the line one way or another. The only guaranteed method of reaching paradise is to surrender yourself to me. Otherwise your body will experience pleasures while your soul burns…

The days of harmless prayer are gone. If I could withstand another moment in your heathen presence, believe me I would. But the hunger grows too strong to contain. Enough with the platitudes and vague musings of faith. Your time has come. The Lord needs payment in flesh, lamb…

The blessing takes moments. Lambs do not realise what’s happening until it’s already over. All that trembling your body does means nothing. That sinning thing within you is the only part holding us back. I can’t promise you’ll be safe with me, but you will be pure…

Perhaps I misspoke. The Lord has chosen you. This isn’t a negotiation or recruitment. No path of penance is required. You are in my sights, lamb. I am fanatical in my devotion to the divine, I’m not afraid to admit it. I will have you, lamb. Willing or not.

A private confession for a lost little lamb. Come in, dear. The booth is waiting.

It seems to me you succeeded in felling lesser beings. Impressive, yes, but far from a true victory. Your anger and rage are misplaced. I mean you no harm. A lost lamb lashing out at a cruel universe needs a soft touch. A guiding hand. A taste of what the Holy Spirit offers.

Perhaps you’re right, lamb. But there’s an issue with your logic. We can watch as your claim vanishes and the divine plan continues. Their absence is real. Once this plain vanishes, there will be no witnesses like me to take stock. In a manner of speaking, the divine outlasts.

How could I resist the endless devotion you offer? A reward for my years of service, a testament to the divine will. I cannot promise I will be gentle. But everything that is done to you will be the right thing. The just way.

Things end, lamb. Empires and orders and covens and all. Everything but the divine, that is. It seems to me your path can lead to salvation through my guiding hand. Or, you can choose destruction.

Immortal…what a lovely challenge. Imagine taking a tree branch and snapping it in two. When it refers, is it still broken inside? I see in your eyes that trembling madness. Lifetime upon lifetime of endless destruction. Aren’t you tired, lamb?

We agree there at least. Humans are poorly constructed vessels, good for harbouring a soul for a lifetime. Like chestnuts in a way, concealing the beautiful reward within. Perhaps your clan required extreme treatment. The divine cannot always be gentle when dealing with sinners.

You poor thing. Every lamb thinks they’ll be the one to ascend and be counted. As if the sacrifice of countless souls before you was all just prelude to your moment in the glow. As adorable as you are, as willing as you are, I doubt you’d last more than a single night…

What good is a servant if not a creature to be slain? The Lord needs only one devout left standing after all. And don’t think in of it as a hunt. It’s a search for souls who need salvation.

What is it all the angels say? Be not afraid? Take their advice, lamb.

Do you hear the music? Maybe not. Strings and heavenly choirs. Voices from beyond the veil. You aren’t in touch with the divine like I am it seems. It’s perfectly ok, lamb. You were never meant to be. Perhaps within my body, you’ll capture some glimpse of that holy rhapsody.

Blessed are those who will fall to their knees and submit. Blessed are those who harvest from their lives and bring family and friends and strangers to my alter. Blessed are those who abandon all pretence of life and devote everything to the Lord. Blessed are those who squirm.