The cries for Father quieted as a hush shivered through the crowd of Ghouls. Hundreds of them stood, seemingly dumbstruck, around Yeshua as he pulled deeply from the one he'd captured.

Jenny stared through their legs, through the entire crowd of them, at the source of golden light, as unmistakable sucking and slurping noises cut through the air. She couldn't see Yeshua clearly, just his silhouette in the golden light holding onto the Ghoul. The robe fluttered around him. She pictured him either kissing the creature or sucking from its eyes, and she couldn't decide which was worse. Maybe he was just biting its neck like a vampire.

One of the Ghouls let out a choked cry, and, all at once, chaos erupted.

Sobbing and screaming, they rushed away from Yeshua, hundreds of white mannequin forms scrambling, their toothy grins erased from their faces, their wide eyes trailing smoke.

She curled up into a ball as they stepped all over her in their mad frenzy to escape. Several of them fell, hands reaching wildly for anything to grab. Their palms slapped her helmet, fingers cracked the armor around her arms. Several stomped on her injured leg and slipped in her blood. She clenched her teeth to keep from crying out, hugging her knees to her chest.

A shout came from Yeshua's direction, and another massive bolt of lightning struck the ground. Everything shook as thunder rolled violently across the sky, across the world. Through the chaos of rushing Ghouls, through their white limbs, Jenny caught glimpses and flashes of Yeshua snapping from one Ghoul to the next. He was like a bolt of golden lightning zipping through the crowd, pausing every time he caught one, making that horrible slurping noise again.

With his flowing long hair and beard, he reminded Jenny of a lion hunting down a pack of beasts, all of them too frightened to make a stand or fight back, running mindlessly in every direction as he picked them off one by one. All the while, he was laughing.

Laughing loudly with manic glee, a deep, booming laugh, his purple robe billowing behind him as he ran. Milky liquid dripped from his beard, and his chest seemed to be widening, shoulders and arms filling. He was growing bigger. The Ghouls he attacked didn't burst into liquid like the ones Jenny cut down. These clattered to the ground, lifeless and limp like mannequins tipped over at the mall. After a while, piles and piles of them spread all around Jenny as Yeshua bolted back and forth through the crowd.

Once most of the Ghouls had gotten away, another lifeless white corpse fell from Yeshua's embrace, he faltered like he was drunk. He swiped his hair back with both hands, sighing deeply, and Jenny wondered how long it had been since he'd touched his hair, his face. Then, hunched over and wiping his lips, Yeshua turned his head and looked right at her.

Panic struck her chest like a drum, and she blinked away the salt the Ghouls had kicked up, trying to clear the cloudiness that blanketed her thoughts.

I need to heal. I need to use my stat points. He's going to...

Yeshua sauntered toward her, his body swaying left and right. He was shaky on his feet, but golden light bloomed and radiated from his skin. Jenny's vision kept blurring in and out of focus; he looked like a star had taken the shape of a man and was coming for her.

She released her injured leg, flinching from the pain as she summoned her hatchet back. Light flashed, and she blinked away tears, trying to keep her focus on Yeshua, trying to slide away from him. But even that took more strength than she had left, and her hatchet, now too heavy, slipped out of her hand, bounced off her armor, and landed on the salty ground. What was the use? Even if she poured all her stat points into Strength, there was no way she'd keep up with someone two stages higher than her.

In the blink of an eye, Yeshua towered over her, breathing hard. His chest, though fuller than before, was still scrawny and she could see his ribs jutting out when a breeze swirled around him. It ruffled his long hair and beard and the purple robe so that she could see his thin thighs and his sunken belly; he was clearly still hungry.

Was he going to suck on her too? Was he going to drain her just like the Ghouls? Was he a monster too?

Should I pray to him?

She wondered as he stood there, catching his breath, his golden light brightening and waning. No. The ghouls had been praying to him this entire time... or were they? She couldn't tell. But they'd been eating him, they'd been hurting him, and it's not like she'd done anything to hurt him.

Well, I did cut off his hand.

She was trying to be brave, trying to brace herself to fight back, but when Yeshua took another step, when his bare foot landed inches from the bloody stump of her knee, she almost choked on a scream. Her lungs twisted like wet towels.

Don't come near me. Don't!

No, no, no, no!

Her insides rebelled; she kept flashing back to the chemistry wing, lying immobile on the table in too much agony to fight back, and how that Wretched Angel had knelt over her, pinning her down with its weight as it pressed its lips to her broken nose and... Shhhrrrlp.

The sound still snaked through her ears and filled the inside of her skull with fear. Not again. Never again.

No!

I'd rather slit my own throat.

But Yeshua held out his arm, palm facing down, over her. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. Don’t cry, she told herself. I deserve this. I deserve this. I killed Susan. I killed Miriam. I deserve this.

He'll grab my hair and lift me off the ground and-

Red light shot out of his hand with several small bolts of lightning. Crackling and snapping, they rained down on her injured leg, and a furious hot pain once again tore through her leg. This time, Jenny couldn't hold back the scream.

Agony seared across Jenny like a ferocious storm wind. If she'd had the strength, she would've chopped off what was left of her leg, would've attacked Yeshua, but pain wracked her body. She writhed on the ground, twisting, her arms and legs jerking involuntarily as she screamed into her helmet till her throat was about to collapse.

Then, all at once, it stopped. The bolts of lightning blinked out of existence, the pain vanished, and Jenny collapsed, breathing hard. Her insides felt scraped out. Yeshua stood over her, smiling kindly, his arms folded in front of him.

She saw flashes of imagery: paintings and statues and stained-glass windows, all of them depicting Jesus, his kind eyes and smile, his powerful presence. Coughing, Jenny slowly pulled off her helmet and turned to her side to push herself up. Both her feet responded.

Wide-eyed, Jenny glanced down to see her foot had grown back, pale and brand new and coming out of her armored knee as though it had always been there. She shot Yeshua a look. Then slowly lowered her head and stared at her new foot. She wiggled her toes; it felt like her foot. She tried to get up, but her elbow gave away, and she almost collapsed again.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Yeshua knelt. "You need to rest," he said. In her exhaustion, all Jenny heard was a series of hisses and shushes until Yeshua repeated himself.

She shook her head, but she couldn't bring herself to speak. There was a lump in her throat, but now that the pain had subsided, now that someone else was holding her, maybe she could rest. Maybe she could allow herself to rest. And Yeshua wasn't just anyone. His presence, though she'd just witnessed him butcher a bunch of Ghouls, their lifeless bodies left scattered around the flat land, she found herself trusting in him. His aura, menacing and imposing as it was, was kind.

Bracing her back with one hand, Yeshua raised his other arm and shook it free of his robe. He presented it in front of her face. "You should eat," he said. "You need your strength. You have to maintain your Blooded status or it will consume you."

Saliva flooded Jenny's mouth as she stared at the fleshy bit of forearm. It was inches away from her teeth. She could smell him: sweet with a hint of savory, salty. Drool spilled over her lips. His soft, light brown skin... it would be so nice to sink her teeth into it. To feel the burst of his blood in her mouth. The delicious warmth. And he was just offering it to her! For free! All she had to do was put him in her mouth and-

It had to be a trick. She'd already been tricked once.

It wouldn't happen again.

"Eat," repeated Yeshua, making a fist to flex his muscles. "It's alright, my child. This was how I saved my people once. My flesh is yours. My blood is the covenant, given willingly for the forgiveness of sins."

His voice was too reassuring, too warm. Jenny grabbed his arm, digging her fingernails into his wrist. Red lightning flickered across, as if promising that no matter what she did, what she ate, he would heal right away. Her heart pounded; she could feel it pounding in her jaws, in her throat. Just one bite. Just press my lips to his skin and feel his blood pulsing and...

Her breath came short and quick. Hunger clenched her ribs like a roaring beast. The taste of him was so close, she could already feel his skin tearing open, could already feel his flesh moving down her throat as she swallowed. The warmth that would fill her belly would radiate through her. The strength that would return to her limbs. She would feel whole again; she would feel alive again.

Then she remembered the last time that had happened, and more tears welled up. Tears of hunger and anguish as she pictured Susan's warm smile. Susan had welcomed Jenny into her arms and she'd....

I have to maintain my Blooded status. So I have every right to eat.

That's what he said.

But what does that mean?

How does he know about that?

I'll become that thing again...

But I am already...

Desecrated Human

Susan healed me. At the cost of her life. I don't want to lose control again.

But what about the fights ahead? What about stronger and stronger enemies? Look how powerful Yeshua is.

I need to get stronger.

And besides. I don't have to kill anyone for this. Yeshua can regenerate. I could eat as much as I want!

But that would make me no different from the Ghouls. And what if Yeshua is playing me? Just like Eve... Eve promised me victory and power and, in the end...?

I won't squander Susan's sacrifice. Not over this.

Her stomach growled, threatening to rip through her skin and latch onto Yeshua, but Jenny shook her head firmly and released his arm. The movement made her head spin, and she lurched to the side.

Yeshua caught her. "My child," he whispered soothingly. "Perhaps then it's time to rest. But know this, you are forgiven."

She squinted at him, struggling to stay awake, raising her head to ask him what he meant. But his hand hovered over her. His fingers gently touched her forehead. There was another burst of light, and then everything went dark.

--

Jenny awoke beneath the cross, eyes opening to see the severed hand and torn feet still nailed to the wood. Dried blood stuck to the skin. For a dizzying, horrifying second, she pictured herself crucified, her arms spread, the pain of it all as she bared herself to the world. Then she lurched back into her body and sat up gasping. She felt as though she'd been underwater, and she stared at her fingers and palm, peeling her armor back just to make sure there weren't any holes in her body.

Then she grabbed her feet. The armored one was still intact. The new one, pale skin and smooth, was bare. When she touched it, she shuddered, and her toes curled. She slid her hand down and squeezed her calf muscle, peeling the torn armor back further up her leg, looking for a scar or any indication that her leg had been ripped off. The only difference was the new foot was lighter, cleaner. The rest of her was filthy.

To her side lay Yeshua, facing away from her. She noted that he didn't have his golden aura while he slept, but he'd piled several more Ghoul bodies around them. Jenny's nose curled. Liquid leaked from their empty eyes, and their slack-jawed mouths were left open, their heads cracked at the cheeks. Yeshua must've been sucking their juices out through their eyes. She shuddered again as she got the ghost of a feeling: his teeth scraping her eyelids as he sucked and sucked...

"Gross," she whispered.

How long was I asleep?

She rubbed her face with her palm before looking around for her hatchet. The sky seemed brighter, or so she thought. It wasn’t sunlight or moonlight; did this place even have stars? There was no way to tell what time of day it was.

Her hatchet was right beside her. The dried blood had been cleaned away, and the flower patterns inscribed into the wooden handle looked beautiful again. The obsidian face almost seemed to shimmer. Her helmet, dented and cracked, rested on the ground next to it, but something else caught her eye. Her severed foot lay waiting behind her helmet.

Armor clung to it, the scales chipped and broken in several places where the Ghouls must've chewed. A mangled bone jutted out the top, the bone that once connected to her knee. She suppressed the strange twist of disgust as she stared at her old foot. She was no stranger to having bits of her restored.

Jenny flexed her fingers. An angel had chewed them off once, but Susan grew them back for her. She touched her chest and her side. She'd been impaled by a steel rod then later eaten alive by Miriam. She shut her eyes and sighed, remembering the dumb philosophical dilemma Oliver once told her about. It was an excuse to engage her in conversation, and it had worked on Susan, but Jenny ended up ignoring them both while half-listening. She didn't remember it exactly. Something about a boat and all its parts being replaced over the years. The old parts were used to build an identical boat, and the riddle asked, which one was the real boat?

Am I still the real me? Jenny tried not to think about that. Don't we lose cells and stuff every day? We grow back every day. Every day we are someone else... She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. All I ever wanted was to wake up feeling new.

All she’d ever wanted was to get away from home, to get away from her mother’s clutches. She’d wanted to figure out who she was, but now? The only answer she’d found through this nightmare was that she was a bloodthirsty, flesh-eating monster, so consumed by her inner ugliness that she’d killed Susan.

With the damp, weighted feeling of having slept too much dulling her head, Jenny reached over and grabbed the severed foot. It was cold and clammy. The armor had turned dull gray, no longer blue, and some of it curled back. Scales crumpled from her touch, reminding her of dried, dead plants in autumn. She remembered something Dr. Lee had said about their armor being organic. But that all seemed like a lifetime ago. And what about her exoskeleton? That had been organic too, hadn't it? It had come right out of her.

She peeled and brushed away the dead scales, flakes drifting down like ashes, until a dirty and blood-smeared foot remained. She forced herself to look at the exposed flesh on top, the spiky remains of her bones. Her toenails were too long. The big one had chipped, and she smiled, remembering that she'd bumped it on her dresser table the day before... her smile faded. It had been the day before the earthquake.

She rubbed her ankle, taking note of the brown patch of skin, darkened by endless hours of sitting on her bedroom floor. It was dry and as dark as the bark of an aged tree, and when she ran her thumb over it, the skin seemed to slide right off. Taste yourself, urged something inside her, and Jenny realized she was salivating again.

Her new foot flexed involuntarily, toes digging into the salt, and she glanced down. The new ankle wasn't dark at all, but pinkish. The nail wasn't chipped. Even her toes seemed better, less crooked, no longer misshapen from years of walking. Her skin was pale and soft and there were no dry patches on her sole.

But the foot she held in her hand? Its sole felt plump and tender, and she scratched at the nearly hard-as-a-rock dead skin, already picturing herself biting into her heel and... With a frustrated cry and activating Savage Throw, Jenny threw the foot as hard as she could, launching it through the dark, miserable world until it vanished from view.

"Probably should've eaten that," said Yeshua from behind her, and she nearly jumped, turning around to face him, ready for a fight. He was sitting up, one arm resting on a knee as he stared intensely. "You are hungry."

Anger crackled up Jenny's spine. She knew she should be grateful. He'd gotten rid of the Ghouls and healed her leg, but she couldn't help it. She forced herself to take a breath, to lower her arms. "Who are you?"

As if I don’t already know.

Yeshua stroked his beard. He seemed so different from the desperate, shriveled-up man she'd found nailed to the cross begging to die. He smiled warmly.

"I am who I am," he said after a weighty pause. "He who takes the sin of the material world."