Church

The dull ache filled my skull, my eyes felt tired and sore. I try to bring my hand up to feel the back of my head where it hurt the most but my arms are bound behind me. It took me a moment to realise that my eyes were in fact open, but I can only see darkness.

I can feel cold, but no breeze, the smell of dust, wood varnish and burning candle wax fills my nostrils. Dread fills me soul.

I remember what happened.

I know where I must be.

A Church.

No longer a place of worship and hope.

Now only a place of judgement and sentencing.

My breathing quickened with my heart, I tried to stop myself from shaking but couldn't. Then I heard a whimpering, I pursed my lips tight and held my breath to stop myself making the noise, but it continued. It wasn't me. I'm not alone.

Suddenly everything is bright and white, my eyes close with the pain of the sudden removal of darkness. "Je-" I managed to slip out before a loud slap echoes through the vast cold room, a second later my brain registered that I had been slapped at the back of the head, and that soon, the nerves will tell the appropriate receptors in my brain that I am in fact, in pain.

"You shall not take the name of your Lord God in vain." Came a stiff, bored voice from somewhere behind me. the piousness in the tone irritated me to no end. "well, actually it was his son's name, not the big man himself." another slap hit the back of my skull, no pain again. that information did worry me slightly.

The room began to dim as my eyes adjusted, bright white turned to dark shades and shapes, slowly turning lighter to colours and then I confirmed what I thought.

A Church.

The cold stone numbed my knees through the mud stained trousers. The stonework seemed to have different shades of colours lightly stained upon them, this was a trick of the light from the stained glass windows supporting the smooth stonebrick walls.

I turned my head to get a better view of my surrounds but had my head immediately turned back, facing forward, followed by a simple command. "only look forward, you filth." Came a growl behind me. Before my head was forcefully turned back, I did manage to see three other souls, bound and kneeling. The man next to me was crying, I saw a woman and a soldier with his red coat torn at the shoulders.

A figure dressed in a perfect white cassock trimmed with a purple braid stepped in front of me, holding a handkerchief to his nose and mouth "now, you have your moment before God. A simple moment to accept your soul as his property and he shall save you." his tone pious and uncaring. a voice came from the end of the bound "so, if we say Amen, we can walk free?" he asked hopefully. I winced at his remark, knowing the answer. The priest walked over slowly, his boots echoing through the vast room with every step instilling more dread. "if you accept that God owns your soul, he will gladly take it, but only when your sentence has been carried out. In the south." he answered with a malicious smile.

"oh... well, if we are being honest with each other here, because I know how much you bible bashers love honesty. That doesn't sound like a good deal at all. I mean, what incentive is there?" Came the voice again and it was answered by the familiar open palmed slap. the priest straightened his back and glared down at the soldier with the torn coat. "your sin, Private, are that of Lust. despicable. caught red handed climbing in to a brother window! Caught by your own Sergeant." The priest seemed to enjoy adding the last detail, as if to cut deep in to the soldier that he was captured by his own. However that didn't seem to effect him, because he came straight back. "Well, you're wrong about that, so I'm being incorrectly held. so I can go free? See, I entered through the front door, you know, as usual people enter buildings...anyway, the Colour Sergeant burst open the door, looking for soldiers because apparently parade time means a lot to them, so I couldn't very well go back out the door, could I? so I climbed out of the window. I was climbing out, not in you see. so... can I go now?" the priest looked as if he was about to burst a blood vessel. "Be gone!" he shouted, "Be gone all filth and banishment to the Plaguelands! travel by the Death Cart!" he continued as he strode away, his white close billowing behind him.

suddenly a thick cloth was pulled over my eyes and I was hoisted up, my voice and lungs paralysed with fear, unable to make a sound. I could hear a man and woman begin crying and screaming, but then beneath that I could make out the soldiers voice. "whoah lads, easy does it. dont leave a bruise, I've got a date later with a lovely lass."

I felt movement that suggested I was being carried and my carrier make no more than three steps before it stopped to the command of the priest. I felt I was turned to face something but my eyes remained covered. "I will thank you, for your suggestion. the coat is quite exquisite. Perhaps that knowledge may help your soul." Came the pious voice of the priest, and I felt a shiver run down my spine with his words. And then, I was turned again and walked out of the ancient church and thrown on to a hard surface.

I could feel hands and fingers frantically grasping at my own hands and feet, and some even at my face, I resisted instantly and cried out in horror, imidiately taking the grabbing for the Stricken. But then, my eyes saw day light, and I saw that I was surrounded by perhaps fifty others, all dirty, all lost souls that had given up hope. We were in a large wooden carriage with metal bars for windows and doors.

The Death Cart.