Jean spent lots of time alone in the Renningberry Catholic Church. During his patience and waiting, no one came during Sundays, not even his Choir. They all flocked five miles away to Murphy Steinly, the new Pastor, who shepherded them against the perceived homosexual threat. Murphy especially used this opportunity for castigating Jean’s protection of homosexuals.
At this time, Murphy gave a message during his usual preachings.
“Better fear the gays here! Blood’s impure so keep clear! Hang a queer if it’s near! Hold these sayings close to your heart!” he exclaimed with fervor.
The members of his congregation were riled up, soaking up his words like the Gospel Truth.
“Remember the tumultuous times a decade before, when the virus HIVE afflicted our people with MAIDS and killed well over 250,000 Americans.
The homosexuals are bearers of this illness and seek to spread their damnation from the Devil unto our children! They are America’s Black Sickness!
Trust Donald Vegan, our previous American President, who greatly pushed the public for more health regulations while struggling to fund it because he gave us too much money in his Veganomics. He kept those homosexuals from gathering and removed them from the public so they no longer harmed Americans!
Isolating the homosexuals and purifying them of their gay taint is fully supported by our new President George H. Wuss. Our health organizations work to kill the HIVE virus that still is among us. If we do not stop these homosexuals, we will all die!”
As usual, the session summarily ended at 6:00 P.M. and the people left, thoroughly incited. Special members of the congregation stayed and plotted with Murphy in the secret organization called “The Salvation Army.” It served as an undercover name whilst still in Church.
Every week, The Salvation Army targeted suspected homosexuals and burned their homes under the cloak of darkness and black blankets.
It was during this October night that they arranged to burn the Renningberry Catholic Church. They already spent months of preparation to completely isolate the incident. Using favors, the local mafia, and bribery, they bought an hour after 7:00 before emergency responders were forced to arrive.
Under the cover of a moonless sky, The Salvation Army became emboldened by their continual success. Their actions became a national issue debated heavily among the American public. As of now, the people gave their tentative support or, as a majority, fearfully stayed uninvolved.
Murphy moved in the front, with his black blanket hanging around his whole body like loose robes. Two slits showed his maddened eyes. His left hand grabbed at the five bottles strapped to his belt underneath. His right hand jiggled with a lighter.
Finally, the moment they all waited for arised! The last place of homosexual protection! Gone from their city!
“C’mon Mitch! Hold the other end higher!” said a short figure holding one side of a large metal drum.
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“I am! You’re the one moving too fast, Gary!” said the taller figure on the right.
“It’s Herald who’s shoving it, you idiots!” said the woman in front of them.
“Shut up, Beth! Don’t say my name!” said the man holding the drum from behind.
“Quiet! All of you!” Murphy commanded. “Make sure to spread that gasoline around the entire building. I don’t want Jean being able to escape without being burned.”
The four figures secured a hose and began trailing the liquid contents. Murphy kept watch with Albert, Jean’s godfather. Murphy didn’t understand why he wanted to help, despite teaching Jean and raising Jean for most of his life.
Murphy mused it must have been his eloquence and righteous wisdom that made Albert come under his wing. He sneered at the Church. Even Jean’s godfather helped plot his demise.
Roughly thirty minutes later, the four fools came bounding over with an empty drum.
“We’re done!” said Beth.
“Good. Bring it back to the truck. Then, we’ll light up the sacrilegious heathen.”
Murphy snickered and pulled out his molotov cocktails. They each had five to leisurely have fun burning it all down. It didn’t hurt to have a backup plan either, as there were two trucks with drums of oil if needed.
When they all assembled, the fire started. It blazed like a furnace, charring the aged stone structure and alighting the wooden embellishments. The sign smouldered from the heat. Bottles crashed left and right, breaking windows and shattering small statues set up.
They stood, watching the conflagration raise higher and higher. Soon, it was too hot to stay around, so they turned to left.
But at the trucks, a man stepped out, bundled in a heavy jacket, hood, sunglasses, thick gloves, and baggy pants.
“Who are you? You’re not supposed to be here,” said Murphy.
“I know,” said the muffled and heavily dressed figure. “And you’re not supposed to be on this planet.”
“Nathan?—“ asked Beth.
Bang!
A Beretta 21A smoked in his hand, fresh from his jacket’s pocket. A hole blossomed in Beth’s head, seeping out blood from under the blanket.
“What the Hell!? Nathan, why!” yelled Albert.
“I’m releasing you from your diseased minds.”
“Don’t stand there! Get him!” Murphy shouted.
The remaining five charged over but shots rang out, one by one.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Each of them were shot once in the chest, but Murphy was shot thrice.
Nathan pulled out the used magazine and reloaded.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
They finally stopped moving. Nathan reloaded and aimed again.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
If they survived this, it would be a miracle. Nathan sighed as he stared at their bleeding corpses. What would his father, Jake, think? Even when Nathan showed up, he thought it couldn’t be true. But, it was too late. Jean died in an inferno by maniacs who were let loose because no one wanted to enforce justice.
Nathan locked the safety and looked at the collapsing roof of the Renningberry Catholic Church. He held the pistol to his head but then lowered it. He raised it and lowered it again. Nathan couldn’t do it. Jean’s face flashed before his eyes, smiling brightly before he went to hold his service earlier this morning...
He walked away in the dark night. What happened next to his future depended on what the town wanted to say what happened. It was all Nathan did to redeem his friend’s brother and show that he would not stand for what happened to his neighbors. His long-time investigation didn’t go to waste, but if only he was faster, only if he was smarter, only if he knew what was happening...
Night passed in a flurry. The authorities traced the many arson cases to Murphy’s Church. Another nationwide outrage arose because of how lawless they acted and how some gold-hearted vigilante killed the ones responsible in a brutal fashion. It was unspoken yet a common understanding fell on the police not to properly investigate the killer.
President H. Wuss demanded the FIBS to investigate, like the rest of the nation. Something insidious was happening in the city.
As everything descended to chaos, from riots in the streets, to protests en route to the Capital, to hysteria, Jean tapped on his suitcase.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He long since prepared to leave and concluded his connections to the mafia under the pseudonym of his brother again. If his brother needed it, he had favors to use.
Jean broke off his connections to the Catholic Church to preach his own words of tolerance and love. Also, it was better to be free from the hierarchy. Considering the probabilities, it was better to freelance his work.
Capitalizing on America’s panic needed someone able to move around everywhere, after all. Jean needed to use his skills to their limit for the most deaths to sweep the nation.
Jean smiled.