“Do you see it?” Gareth Pruitt Truman intensely looked each member of the massive congregation in the eye. “The darkness.” He stomps his foot and the members gasp, a woman faints.

“You see, folks… it’s in each and every one of us. What we, as humble servants, most desperately require… is power. The power… to bring LIGHT!”

The congregation responds to ‘high holy father’ Truman with a “LORD YES!” Viewers from home join in screaming at their TVs to the broadcast.

 

“Step forward, young man.” Gareth points to someone at the back of the auditorium.

Everyone turns to see who has been chosen by his holiness. It was a man comprised entirely, and poorly, of pillows, though it raised no question. Through a pillowy smile, there was a clear darkness.

“He who sits on high has brought your fate to our place of worship and you may now feel his grace within yourself.” the enthusiastic pastor proclaimed. The pillow-being stepped up the many steps to approach the podium and experience this grace.

“Take a knee before your lord.” father commanded.

A pillow leg squished into the ground and the being lost little height to it. It’s facial impressions softened to await the blessing.

“Lingering within you is the ultimate sin, the most malicious of evils.” Gareth placed his hand on the pillow head and turned his own eyes slyly to the congregation whose breath was held. “And you are not alone in that condition.”

Gareth slammed his other hand into the back of the one placed upon the pillow. The being stood and faced the others. Above a silly indented face was the imprint of the pastor’s hand. It quietly walked down the steps and out of the building.

“Another miracle before your eyes! Cleansed in the light of the lord!”

The service concluded with the congregation applauding what Truman was attempting to pass off as a miracle, and paying tithes to the crook. The penniless flock fled from the auditorium less fulfilled than when they entered, having given everything to their faith. And they would come back, excited for something to change, only to find the same result. In actuality, Gareth’s show was not all in vain. His actions tempted a much less theatrical fate than the path he currently walked.

Before laying for bed, he spoke to a fellow religious showman on the phone. “I think it’s time to expand. I want to open another location near the city. I’m just not making enough off these sheep anymore. It’s not like it used to be. They barely tithe!”

“Did you tell them the lord demands it of them?”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll tell them again.” Gareth bid farewell and put away the phone and swatted away a bee, one of many he’d been trying to eradicate of late.

As the pastor laid down to sleep, he noticed his bed was much more comfortable than he remembered. He started to believe in heaven as his head sunk into the most plush material he’d ever felt. In the dark, he thought his eyes were tricking him. In the pillow, a face. Above it, the mark of his own hand.

Truman fought for every breath, and was losing. He reached for the lamp beside his bed to hit the assailant with. His finger barely reached, but was able to flick on the switch and bring light.

The fight was over when the light came on. The pillow slithered away into the night and it was no surprise. The pastor came to his senses rapidly, realizing a man dressed in dark red robes stood above him, horns protruding from his head. On the ceiling a shadow was cast behind him of dark, shredded wings, spreading across the room.

“Demon!” screamed Gareth, pushing himself against the wall behind him.

10 voices bombarded him in response, “Silence.”

The assassin moved his hands in such a way that a red odachi blade formed. Truman was too terrified to make any sound, although he appeared to be screaming at an incredible volume. The long odachi was plunged through his chest, through the bed, through the floor and tragically through the more valuable lifeforms under the earth.

“Rise.” a bodiless voice spoke.

Gareth stood in complete emptiness, listening for the next word.

“You are here not because you are deserving of redemption, but because redemption is the only suitable sentence for your eternity. Above, below, between. You are unworthy of it all. You have led astray many who would otherwise have lived simple, righteous lives.” the voice did not allow Gareth to speak. “As I grant you the power needed for redemption, I will strip you of everything you have.”

An orb of pure white appeared in the blankness, light washed over the false holy man, followed by its shadow. He felt this was a fate worse than death… then, he felt nothing at all. 

Enter Gospel.

 

“Next time, don’t schedule the shipment so late.” Big Dino warned his henchmen.

“Boss, we can’t move our product in the daylight. You know it’s especially difficult to avoid the cops when you’re around. Imagine doing this with pedestrians around, we’d be up at PrisonHead before making a dollar.”

Big Dino growled in response, knowing his man was right, but still feeling inconvenienced. There was a trivia show that night that he was playing along with, though how he framed it to his crew was that he had a ‘score to settle’.

Unloading trucks back at the warehouse, the mobsters were incapacitated. The world went dark for Big Dino and a bright light shone in front of him. He knew what was to come.

“REPENT.” spoke the powerful voice.

“You gonna haunt me like a ghost or something? I don’t owe you anything.” Big Dino was dismissive of the one who brought him to the world of man.

The light disappeared and all the stunned henchmen awoke, discussing briefly and then back to work. It was not over, however.

This time, the men were not taken out. Light filled the hideout, illuminating all the criminal activities taking place. Drugs, weapons, stolen items and money filled the room. Light began to fade to reveal the source. 

A man stood on the air, eyes glowing bright white, with a staff, at the end of which was a luminous, floating orb. His features were obscured by the light, but his face was greatly displeased.

“LOWEST OF ALL LIFE.” the room shook with his voice and light spread from him in a wave across the room. All of the men were knocked back, as the power was clearly not a final measure, more of signaling them for their chance to run.

All the henchmen looked to Big Dino and his steadfast position gave them reason not to take the opportunity. Instead, guns were tossed to each man, and Big Dino smiled.

“Get him outta here.”

With the boss’s command, the being of light was peppered with bullets. He made no effort to stop or even slow any of the barrage. Instead, his facial features lightened up for a moment. It seemed the retaliation was so futile, it was humorous.

Unharmed, the being removed all bullets from his skin and clothing. Metal in a flash turned to even brighter specks of light. Then, with a motion of the staff, they were all sent out, penetrating every single henchman. From their lifeless bodies, light shone through the holes left behind. Big Dino, scowling in the distance, was not touched.

“See that?” he pointed to the wall behind him, which also had holes of light. Curiously, they were in his exact outline. “No wonder you’re trying to convince me to repent. You can’t touch me.” Big Dino menacingly walked towards the man of light. “But I’m willing to put money on this, friend. I can touch YOU.” He dropped to all fours and charged the corner where the being stood. 

Before reaching the corner, it was dark for a moment until the light reappeared behind him.

“REPENT.”

“You’re panicking.” Big Dino charged again.

“REPENT” the building shook violently.

“Name my sin, firefly.” the dinosaur composed himself and returned to two legs, noticing his suit was all torn up.

“MUR-” while speaking, he was interrupted by the horns of Big Dino.

Pinned against the wall, the two locked eyes.

“Under this suit… I’m still a dinosaur, but under all that light, you’re still just a man.”

Big Dino began to press into the being, who was gripping his staff still. His power couldn’t intervene with the dinosaur again, but his body could. He slammed the orb against the side of the mob boss’s head, causing him to stumble and in that moment, teleported away.

“That’s right, altar boy.” Big Dino mocked the fleeing deity. He checked the clock and sat on the couch, just in time for his trivia. He’d worry about staffing back up another time.

Following a police report and numerous reports, the being known as Gospel had become a common topic in Big City. Exposing the operations of a crime syndicate by shredding the walls of their warehouse with beams of light put a stop on major crimes for a few weeks. Many saw Gospel as a savior of the city, the first to challenge the new regime of wrongdoers, who were united under BD’s leadership.

Within the city, Gospel would appear sparingly. At moments of darkness, of pain, he would illuminate and heal. Over a short span of time, he amassed a following of adoring, devoted fanatics. They called themselves ‘The Children of Gospel’, and dressed all in white with black ties. Gospel himself was not totally unaware of the phenomenon, but had chosen to ignore it as it seemed benign.

Each month, in Big City Park, thousands gathered to meet and discuss the latest rumors and sightings of their deity. It was often a place for people with not much else to do to come and connect and find community. They rallied peacefully and spread the good word of Gospel’s many miracles.

The Children of Gospel became a more and more prominent force in the city. Traffic jams were caused by the white-clad righteous recruiting drivers unlucky enough to have had their window down.

“Gospel will be at our next meeting. He told us! You should come!” The overexcited woman handed the driver a pamphlet and held a smile that was much too wide. Gospel made no such claim, but that rumor spread quickly, and the thousands prepared to come to the meeting multiplied tenfold.

On the day of the meeting, in the park, so many people gathered that they bled out into the street. The rally was no longer a peaceful one. Those believing themselves more devoted were hostile towards those of a more casual fandom. Original members held a firm authority over the group, though it was wildly out of control. 

One civilian on the street gave the entire group something to unite over. He shouted from across the way, “Children is right!”

The simple, silly comment sparked mayhem in the blink of an eye. Many thousands of people charged across the street towards the man, many of which having no idea why. They reached the man and started to attack mercilessly. He whimpered on the ground until he fell silent. The mob didn’t stop. Those who were less aware believed they were going after non-believers. Down the street, they swarmed civilians and beat them to death.

Silence now fell on The Children themselves. Gospel shone above the park and the cloudy sky was filled with fading light. “He’s here!”, “It’s him!” “Gospel!!” These whispers filled the area until everyone realized their savior was not pleased.

“WICKED FOOLS.”

Reality rattled and infinite voices rang out in everyone’s minds. Gospel lifted the bodies of the five deceased with a motion of his staff and flew them to his side. His eyes, robes and orb began to take on a blackness which slowly grew.

“YOUR SINS WILL UNDO YOU.”

The bodies melted into purity, countless shards of light, spreading across the park slowly. Gospel moved his hand, launching the light of the first body towards the crowd, who began to run, screaming.

In the emptiness formed by the evacuation, the Sun God, Zol, stood tall, a staff similar to Gospel’s in hand. As the shards neared those near him, he flashed his staff and absorbed the light.

“No.” Zol commanded in every language, running forward and transforming into the golden bird of legend. He flew at a stunned Gospel, knocking the darkness into remission and carrying him away from the dispersing fanatics. As the two soared out of the city, they battled with their powers of light in the air.

Gospel teleported to the ground below and awaited Zol, who transformed back into a man.

“They are human, Gospel. You must guide them past their errors. They want you to lead them.”

“I cannot lead them. I’ve not grown from when I was human. In both lives, I fostered a flock of sin and weakness.”

“A shepherd would not cull his flock.” Zol gave Gospel a stern eye. “Your intentions are pure. Let them witness.” Zol stepped close to Gospel, who remained steady. He peeked into his eyes as if looking through a window. “That Darkness. That was not you. That, you should not foster.” Zol disappeared in a flash of sunlight.

Gospel phased back out of reality and into his vacuous white dimension between, standing ready to intervene wherever needed. He considered Zol’s warning, but constantly felt the darkness move within. Zol was wrong… it was him.