Thursday 28 November 2019

Hand Of Fate




He had watched the case unfold vicariously, in connection to his own ongoing events,
for weeks the Police had sort to track down the murderer of the young woman, and now through the use of forensic evidence that had been achieved.

Gary Henessey knew that for him the events would be just as unfortunate, he and two other Gentlemen were facing charges of fraud relating to, Insider Trading, False accounting and financial mismanagement, it was clear and and the two members related to the Board Of Directors were facing long prison sentences, unless something could be done. “But how to silence the main witness?” he inquired whilst watching the face of the man convicted of the young woman's murder, a single print of the third finger thus leading to him being indicted for the crime.

“If only there was a way to get to Richardson, he muttered. Right now he'll be on the stand giving evidence at The Royal Courts Of Justice, and what with the Press and Media, plus the heavey police pressence, it would be impossible to get to him. And even if we could hire a hitman it would still result in our convictions, even more so. There must be a way/” he told himself.

It was then that the phone wrang. Instinctively Gary leaned over and picked it up on the small red triangular table, where he usually rested his drink. By the sound of traffic it was clear that either Clive or Patrick, was phoning from outside The Royal Courts Of Justice, no doubt concerned about how the case was going.

“Hello, stated Clive, Gary can you hear me, Patrick's about to be cross examined by their Prosecuting Council, I've already been through it.”

“How did you do?” Inquired Gary anxiously.

“Not good, there wasn't much I could say in our defence. Richardson was and is, the companies auditor, we should have been more careful, for goodness sake we're facing over Twenty nine years in prison, my girlfriend's left and I don't think we'll have much of a future when we do finally get out of prison.”

Gary thought of this, he considered his home, his job and his career, and how he was prepared to do anything to protect them.

:They want you in the witness box in three days, I'm telling you this chap they've got has already torn me to pieces, our legal team is trying their best but the Judge keeps throwing out any objections they can come up with. I'm telling you, if we cannot find a way to silence Richardson we're all finished.

“Alright, I'll find a way. Stated Gary, leave it to me. He then replaced the phone. In truth he had no idea what he was going to do, he just needed time to himself. The forensic evidence, that was what caught the man whom had killed that young woman, her body found in a field, the murderer had tried to cover it up with twigs and branches, he had even tried wiping of the fingerprints, however it was clear he had not done a good job. And Gary knew that since he had a conviction for drinking and driving had occurred three years ago, his fingerprints would be on file, and any suspicion concerning the murder of Richardson would fall on him, especially since it was all his idea in the first place. Yet Richardson had to be stopped, “Before it was too late.” he muttered

Instinctively he arose from his chair, and convinced fresh air would improve his thoughts, he put on his coat and along with his keys and shopping bag, went out in order to think. “Perhaps the last ounce of freedom before the end of the trial, he concluded. He decided not to take his car, instead he chose to walk to his local library. Ironically he was a big Agatha Christie fan, and had gone there for inspiration. The woman behind the counter smiled, knowing him quite well, usually they would spend a few moments talking amiably, before he'd take out his usual books. This time however he did not feel like talking, especially not to the Prosecuting Council when the time came.

The woman looked up from her desk, and smiling, politely stated:

“Hello Mr. Henessey, did you enjoy the last Agatha Christie?”

“Yes thank you, I'm looking for one I haven't read yet, plus some other books that might be of interest.”

“Well, you may notice that we've had a change round, the Crime Fiction has been moved opposite the Fantasy and Occult Section.”

“I'm sorry, fantasy and what?”

“The Occult section, you know, Voodoo, black magic that sort of thing, spells, wax effigies, that sort of thing. Mind you being a down to Earth Businessman, you don't look like the sort that would be interested!”

“Well I'll give it a quick look. Just incase. He smiled politely before going over there.

He knew what a wax effigy was, and even though he was no expert in the world of The Black Arts, he was desperate for a solution and was prepared to try anything to save his freedom and especially his career. He read how a wax effigy made of that person, could be used to represent the individual in question, and that whatever happened to that person would happen to the individual in real life.

He read on, learning that for it to happen, you needed things closest to the person, mainly connected to either themselves, blood, sweat, hair, he began to think. He still had that letter from Richardson, written six months ago at the start of the inquiry. It had a small trace of dried blood on it where Richardson had cut himself shaving, and had been in too much of a rush to write the letter before allowing it to heal properly. Plus there was his fingerprint sweat stains, it as clear he had been frustrated that day, no doubt having discovered the events that had lead up to this case;

“Could it work? He inquired, there was only one way to find out.

Taking out another Agatha Christie, plus the book on The Black Arts, and two books by random thriller writers as he referred to them. He thanked the woman behind the counter and set off to buy items the book specifically instructed him too.

He spent over two hours looking for plasticine and chalk and wax candles all over London, however , having finally achieved all this he arrived home in order to perform the deed in question.

Removing the carpet from his bedroom, he set about drawing a pentagram as the book had instructed, then carefully filling in the strange words before placing each candle in one of the five points. Before deciding to light them with matches he set about making a crude effigy of Richardson before going to get the letter and inserting ripped up pieces containing Richardson's blood and sweat into the body. Before placing it in the centre. He then went to get the matches and light the candles. Kneeling down he began to mutter the incantation described within the book, at the same time pressing his thumb deep into the neck of the effigy. There was no change of weather, no lightning or thunderstorm and definitely no drop in temperature that he might have expected.
Disappointed at this he put everything away placing the effigy on the table and the items in a draw having blown out the candles and rubbed out the chalk. He then decided to go to bed, the time now 9:37. “Get an early night.he told himself, you're going to need it;

It was round about four in the morning that he was awoken by the heavey sound of knocking and going out towards the entrance in his pyjamas, noticed the reflected blue light from the heavy set glass of the door, opening it he noticed a Police car in the distance. A WPC sat in the driving seat, a Policeman next to her, however he was more concerned with the Officer standing there in front of him, a note book and pen in his hands, he stated:

“You are Mr. Gary Henessey?”

“Yes, why what's happened?”

“Do you know a man named Neil Richardson?”

“Yes, he's our company's auditor.”

“And the main witness in the ongoing fraud trial, that you and two of your colleagues are being accused of'

“Yes, why, what's happening?”

“Mr Richardson was found dead in his hotel, he had strangulation marks on his neck, we checked the files of all those related with this case. I'm afraid they exactly match those of the one with have for your drunken driving conviction, you need to come with us sir, you're under arrest for murder; We'll wait here while you get dressed.'

“I haven't been anywhere near him, I've been in my house all the time; I have no idea what is happening here.”

However Gary decided it was best to get dressed, it was whilst about to in his Bedroom that he stared at the effigy of Richardson, noticing clearly the indented prints within the neck for all to see.

The End


Thursday 6 June 2019

The Night Before

Anticipation can come before or even in some cases after the event, I suppose it's how you interpret things and what you are brought up to believe.

Christmas Eve was a time of such. When I was a small child living in a small Latvian village, along with my Mother and Father we would always prepare for the big event a few days before the coming of The Winter Solstice. We would shop for food and decorations and of course presents.

I was seven at the time and remember holding my Father's hand whilst he took me shopping so we could both enjoy the Christmas Markets; That one particular year I remember the streets were covered deep in snow. The decorations were out in the city of Riga, the capital of Latvia, which has three Christmas markets, all packed with shops selling food and decorations. My Father would buy me a non alcoholic blueberry drink, and one for himself, and then together we'd raise our cups in good cheer. My Mother however chose to stay at home, and arrange things with our neighbours, since we were a rather close, yet isolated village, and we all celebrated Christmas day in a some would say family rather than community tradition.

Although I would like to indulge you in the traditions of a Latvian Christmas, seeped incidentally in Pagan virtues although we were a Christian family and therefore I must explain to you the significance of her presence, and the effect over the next few days she was to have on us all. My Father was engrossed in what to buy, for our guests and no doubt himself and his family. The Markets were crowded to say the least, and I felt someone unintentionally touch my shoulder with there arm, as they reached for a bag of roasted Cinnamon Almonds. “I'm sorry, stated a gentle female voice, are you alright? I didn't make you spill your drink did I? I'll buy you another one if could, although I'm afraid I have very little money at present'.
“No, I stated, showing her the cup, I've already finished.”

She was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. Beautiful that is in an earthy peasant sort of way, Her hair was straight black and came down past her ears, her face was of an Eastern European complexion, and her eyes were bright green, Her face was somewhat elfin yet when I looked at her it had a somewhat engulfing appearance. She had long slender fingers and reddened nails that she had kept short. She smiled at me and placed a hand on my shoulder, I remained motionless succumbed by her beauty rather than apprehension, my name is Jelena; she stated, what's your name?

“Davis” I said, noticing her smile.

“Almost like the Shepherd boy. I mean the one in the Bible, whom looked after the sheep.”

“We have sheep; I replied, I live on a farm with my Parents;

“Do you know where I can stay? She inquired, I've been traveling a long while and all the places seemed to be full this time of year.”


I could sense the desperation in her tone, “and I could see that despite her smile, she was looking weary and needed somewhere to replenish.

It was then an idea came to me, one that somehow I believe was not really my own, as if it was another making this suggestion, yet I could not see what harm it would do, and although I had no intention of telling my Parents, it was the season of goodwill, and being godly, I convinced myself they would not mind.

The dark clouds indicating rain above the crescent moon, made me even more determined. Smiling and daring to touch her hand I stated:

“We have a barn. I can let you stay there. I can bring you food. Please go not tell my Parents or anyone. It is the best I can do, however if you would rather-”

No, she said, clenching my hand in response, I will accept your kind offer, it is going to rain and I need shelter,.In a few days the moon will be full and I dare not be out on such a night.

“I then gave her instructions to wait by the old tree, that was directly yet a distance from my bedroom window, and told her that when my parents had gone to visit their neighbours to exchange gifts I would let her stay within., “You can sleep on the straw, I whispered, it will shelter you from the rain. I then gave directions, our house is very easy to find” She thanked me with a kiss on the left side of my face. I watched her leave and my Father, having been busy buying gifts was none the wiser. I remained silent, and on the way home I held his hand tightly, as we sang a Christmas song to keep up our festive spirits on this cold night.

Despite it being cold and snowing, even worse than other times, I knew my parents would still keep their promise to their neighbours and I would keep my promise to Jelena, whom I loved with an innocence that only I could. When she held my hand, her fingers felt different. they were more slender, though gentle and yet somehow more even, they had seemed to wrap around more accurate, perhaps it was because my Father was getting old and his grip was beginning to falter. Yet I knew there was something unusual about Jelena, that I could not yet describe.

I told her that my Parents along with the other community members, attended church around 6.0 and returned around 10.0. “The Service ends about 9:45 I stated. My Father never checks the barn and I will leave the door open so you can leave without being seen.”

She smiled and then she was gone. I had doubts she would come, perhaps she was just being polite, humouring the self-authority of a small boy, whom was trying to take control of the situation. Yet I felt I had done what she wanted, and I was pleased.

That evening after we had eaten, my Mother kissed me goodnight, and told me to brush my teeth and wash my face before changing into my Pyjamas. She told me my Father would be up soon, no doubt to give me my customary near Christmas dessert, that she pretended she did not know about. I did as I was told and knew they would soon leave for the sermon. I attend church on early mornings, needing my beauty sleep as my Mother put it. My Father always joked I had too much energy. “Just like me when I was a boy.” He would say.

When I had prepared myself for bed, he came in. Usually he seemed jovial in his appearance, yet this evening he was more solemn as he sat on the chair he had gotten from the corner and stated:

“You know your Bible Davis.”

“Yes Father.” I said.

“Show me where you keep it.”

I leaned across and opened the drawer of three, the first for the holy scripture the second for my clothes and the third for whatever I chose, usually sweets and snacks. I handed it to him and he stated: “Our Saviour was born on Christmas day, yet there are those, that were born on Christmas Eve, and they are unfortunate; When I say they, I do not mean all, only those whom have been cursed with the power of change. To scorn the holy birth, it is said that the Devil, gave those innocent ones, a possessive spirit of change, that takes over on certain nights, when the Moon is full. “Do you know of, Vilkackis?”

“Yes Father.”

Have you read what it says in Mathew Chapter Seven verse fifteen.

“Yes Father.”

“What does it say?”

:Beware of false prophets whom come to you as sheep-” For some reason I thought of Jelena and I paused.

“My Father finished the quotation, believing perhaps I was exhausted after our excursions to The Christmas Markets, “But inside are ravenous wolves,” There has been attacks in the village. So far we have been fortunate, yet others with farms have lost sheep, and that is why we must keep our doors locked, You must not let anyone in; Is that understood?”

“Yes Father.”

“It is important, you do not let anyone deceive you by appearance; You must remain safe, we all must at this time of year, more so than on other nights when the Moon will be full.” Now, your Mother and I must leave for church, you will remember what I told you, won't you Davis?| He stated kissing my forehead as he always did.

“Yes Father, I promise you I will not let anyone in'

“Good; he glanced at the window, tiny drops of rain were beginning to appear. “I will need my coat; he stated, I will get your Mother's.”

I did not consider myself deceitful as I watched him leave, closing the bedroom door. I was not letting anyone in, and I had promised Jelena I would help her, so although debatable, I was truthful?

The rain came down harder, and when I was certain my parents were out of sight, I got out of bed and stared out at the window. In the distance I could see a solitary figure of a woman cutting across the field. In the distance were sheep, I was surprised when they began bleating and seemed to run from her presence, as if something had disturbed them. I went to the wardrobe where my large coat was kept, and placed it over my pyjamas, then putting on my shoes, I opened the window and amidst the icy rain and snow I called out her name:

“Jelena; I shouted. My reply was met by the sound of howling. The wolf, my Father had warned me about' I knew I had to protect Jelena, knew I had to give her food and shelter. I opened the door and she was stranding there. Her black hair and Rumanian complexion covered by a make up of rain and strands of snow. She smiled and staring into her green eyes I found myself even more overcome by her beauty than I ever was before.

“You do not need to come out on such a night Davis' She confirmed, bring me food here, and I will go to the barn; it is best you stay in, for soon the night will come and I want you to be safe.”

I insisted she come in and wait, but she politely refused. I hurried to the kitchen for some food and drink. There was the remains of a pork casserole, filled with mushrooms, and red cabbage, on the stove, I insisted that Jelena come in and for a moment, she seemed to hesitate but then she agreed. Instantly I could tell the warmth was affecting her in a good way. Already her cold reddened hands were beginning to warm up. She waited at the kitchen entrance as I prepared a bowl for her to take to the barn.

“Would you like to see our Christmas tree? I suggested, Most people in Latvia decorate the tree on Christmas Eve but we do ours earlier.” I handed her the bowl of food and taking her hand that still felt different, like an exaggerated child with a new friend, a beautiful new friend, I led “:Almost dragged her into the Dining room' To see our Christmas tree, decorated with lighted candles, freshly made cookies and pine cones, as well as more traditional decorations., including a decoration shaped as a nail, a Latvian tradition to remember the love of God, whom sent his son to be born on Christmas day.

“It's lovely.” she said, clenching my hand in gratitude. You look tired, she said, I think you best get your rest; Why aren't you in church?”

“I go Christmas Eve, all the people in the village go, Then I added as if she doubted, “I won't let you down Jelena, I promise.'

“I know, you are my friend; she said.

Then I poured her a large glass of blackcurrant juice and she thanked me and I showed her to the barn. She seemed to stare at the upright pitch fork in the pile of hay, it's silver prongs glistening. I could tell she was concerned. “Don't worry, I said, you can sleep in the corner. My Father uses it for his farming. There's nothing to worry about.”

“I don't like sharp things made of silver.” She replied, but thank you, I will do as you say,

I watched for a moment as she settled down with her food and drink in her bed of straw, and then I left, closing the door before retiring for the night.

I was awoken earlier than usual, by sounds and familiar voices of those in our community. My Father came in looking concerned and at first I thought something had happened to Jelena, and I wondered how my Parents would react. However he merely sat down incongruous to the outside commotion and inquired: “Did you go out last night Davies?”

“No Father, I lied.

“There has been an incident, a woman traveling home was found dead; They say she was savaged by a large animal, they think it was a wolf. You must take seriously our traditions; Although we are Christian, we must never forget the legend of Christmas Eve, that states there are those destined to become wolves whom were born on that day.

“I do Father, I know all about those born to change with the full Moon. This woman, what did she look like?”

He found no suspicion in my inquiry and stated, she was blonde, Middle-aged, the Police are no doubt checking for identification so her family can be notified.”

“What time is it?” I inquired.

“It is 5.0, I am sorry to wake you early, your Mother and I we both felt it was important, you understand why don't you?

“Yes, I promise I will be careful. Would you like me to help with breakfast' I inquired, mainly to change the conversation.

“Get some more rest, your Mother will call you.”

He left shutting the door, and I turned on my side, staring out at the snow covered window, longing for my friend Jelena to visit me again. For it was only two more days till Christmas Eve and on that night the Moon would be full.

When I had washed and gotten dressed, I made the excuse of going outside to see the snow, though in truth to c heck on the barn and Jelena. She was gone. Her footprints had left a faded trail, across the farm where the sheep grazed. Then I entered and my Mother smiled at my Father in response to the snow on my coat.

“You'll have plenty of time to play in the snow later. he said, it looks like we're going to have a white christmas;

“I like snow, but it's very cold. said my Mother, that's why it's best to stay in; I certainly would not like to be out on a night like that, especially with what's happening.”

“According to local Police findings, they believe the tourist in question was murdered a few days ago during the full Moon. Apparently it's believed the creature dragged it's victim into the forrest,
that's why it took so long to find.” Concluded my Father.

“But don't worry, concluded my Mother, leaning across and touching my face in reassurance, the whole village will be together on Christmas Eve, so we have nothing to fear.”

She smiled, leaving her hand where it was, as if she needed me to confirm this matter. Instead I smiled, and she did so, before removing her hand, and we all had breakfast, yet I was worried about Jelena, I wanted to know she too would be safe;

Jelena came again, that night, one more before it was Christmas Eve. She stood waiting by the huge tree, smiling in anticipation of my invitation. I waved at her from my window, opening it as I did so. Jelena waved at me, I could see clearly now that she was deformed, her middle finger was longer than her second. Was she being persecuted? Did she have to flee from those whom she feared? I called out quietly, mouthing the words, “I” m coming Jelena, please wait there!

I put on my coat. My parents were out visiting our neighbours, delivering and receiving presents, I trudged through the snow, Jelena held out her hands to steady me, her beautiful smiling face so welcoming. The snow scattered like a jeweled tiara in her long black hair. I clenched both her hands as if in a dance and she drew me closer and kissed my forehead as a friend.

I loved Jelena, she was my friend, and I wanted to keep her safe.

I led her into the barn, yet for some reason she seemed disturbed. She was staring at the silver pitchfork, it's points glistening in the moonlight. She clenched my hand and said, “Davis, is it alright if I come early tomorrow, before the full Moon is at it's most radiant? Please Davis, it is important you agree to this, one more night then in will leave you. “

I paused in thoughts unclear.

“If you can find away.” She pleaded.

“Yes, I will leave the door unlocked, my Parents and I have our dinner about four, will that be early enough for you?

“Yes, I will come at five. Now listen carefully, you are not to enter during the full Moon. It is not that I do not enjoy the presence of your company, it is just that I am different from other people. She clenched my hands and stated: Please, tomorrow is my Birthday, and if you can bring yourself to understand you will do this one thing for me, and in the morning it will be Christmas day and we can rejoice.'

I did not fully understand or perhaps a part of me did not want too, however I agreed.

I awoke the next morning in anticipation of the celebration that would lead us into Christmas.

All the villagers would be there, holding high their traditional festive decorations, and burning torches to see their way on this cold December night, the snow coming down even faster. I feared for Jelena's safety, yet knew I had to keep my word,

Latvian children along with their parents would take part in many traditions on that day. We the children would sing Christmas songs, we would have to recite a short poem, or even dance, to ward off evil spirits. This was caused mumming and was done by wearing animal masks that had been especially brought or made.

I however chose merely to dance, although I knew I would also recite a poem. It was on that evening as agreed, that I left the house at four on pretense of enjoying the snow. In fact it was to unlock the barn, so Jelena would be safe inside on this night. I had told her earlier of my intentions, and had told her I would leave a few strands of hay outside, to indicate it was safe. My Parents knew how messy I could be and they would not suspect our true intentions.

The whole village now stood before the church, waiting to enter for mass. Yet I noticed that on this night, one of our neighbours, had brought his rifle. Jurgis was a Farmer, just like my Father, they were very close friends and he often came round to see us, and we him. However for some reason this had not been so. As my parents acknowledged him and I followed suit, I was to learn why this had not occurred. He explained the wolf, had attacked his sheep, a few days ago when the moon had been full. He also mentioned seeing what he described as the creature at one point seemingly running as if on it's hind legs.

“It is the Vilkacis! he muttered, it is not an ordinary creature we are dealing with, we must all stay safe.”

The snow was coming down even harder, a storm was gathering. My Father mentioned something about the farm, and whether the barn would sustain in this weather, and I feared for the safety of Jelena, not only from the storm that could easily tear down her only protection on this cold Christmas Eve soon to become a new evening of celebration, but from the Vilkacis the one whom is transformed when the moon becomes full. I feared even more as my parents and all of the village talked of what was occurring, and what had to be done. I knew this was even more serious when I saw that State Police Officers, some male and some female from The Ministry Of Interior had arrived discretely, “As much as necessary” in cars, to gather information so the incident could be dealt with.

The entire village enchanted by the season, and the incident, did not see me as I turned and left, walking slowly at first, then faster as if trying to avoid the oncoming snow, desperate to get to Jelena and to know she was safe.

I cannot explain clearly what happened next, although I assume they had learnt more quickly than I suspect of my disappearance. For I could hear the distant sounds of voices, as I reached the barn the snow now covering not only the ground, but also roof, the wind becoming more aggressive, I could hear strange sounds coming from the barn mixed with the gentle voice of a woman, as if there was not one person but two in some ancient struggle that was soon to reach it's conclusion.

'Jelena, I called, are you alright?”

I opened the barn and saw she was on all fours, her was was contorted and her back had began to arch like an animal about to attack it's prey. Her face was in a snarl, though not it seemed of her own making. At first I considered this natural, if not disturbing, then I saw her face becoming elongated, her teeth began to extend to sharpened fangs, her ears grew pointed, her nails became longer, fur began to cover her body, and her clothes were ripped apart, to reveal not a woman I considered to be my friend, but a large snarling wolf. The Vilvackis.

I gently spoke her name, more out of fear than acknowledgement. Yet their was no response. She snarled recognising me no longer as a friend, and growling with intent, I knew I had to remain completely still, less she struck, although it was only a matter of time before the attack took place.
\
The barn door was still open and I was in front of it, however I knew there was no way I could run out to safety. I then heard the voice of my Father whom came rushing in with Jurgis, they had come to the side and fearing an attack Jelena turned her attention from me and leapt at Jurgis, Instinctively my Father pushed him out the way only for the wolf to strike my Father's shoulder causing him to be almost literarily thrown across the room. Jelena spun in a somewhat semi-circle as if doubling back on her prey. My Father was now half up, and that's when I heard my Mother scream “Shoot it”

There was a silence and then she heard a click followed by the reply she feared.

“:I can't it's jammed.”

As if sensing her chance Jelena leapt at my Father. Instinctively he grabbed the large upright silver pitchfork. He held it high and through gravity Jelena came down. The wolf that is Jelena plunged into the silver prongs, the sharp edges going through her huge fur covered body, coming out the other side soaked in reddened blood. The silver somehow glistening in the moonlight. Forcing herself through the pain, Jelena the wolf edged herself nearer and nearer towards my Father, her snarling face and hot breath getting closer and closer, her teeth inches away from tearing his face apart. Her voice however did not become louder, instead it became softer with the falling of the snow and then I heard the gentle voice of a woman mutter, “I am sorry, and then “Thank you.”

We buried Jelena. The whole village said prayers for her, and the local vicar told us he had asked for her salvation. I know now that Jelena is at rest. Christmas is a time of forgiveness and Jelena is my friend.


The End

Thursday 25 April 2019

Cold Light Of Day

There is no such thing as disorder, each incident may seem random yet any mathematician will tell you everything is connected, leading to a precise conclusion. A statement not of religion or man made beliefs created to avoid the truth, but the words of truth. The words that decide how we live. How we act with one another, and even how we must sacrifice ourselves when the time comes. For this is the philosophy of the Party. Brought to power by the revolution of the people,. Democratically elected by mass onslaught against the parasites that laboured whilst workers toiled and were exploited, until they finally rose up and took what was there's.

The Party knows what's best for us all, muttered Father Pinotti, the Party has, and always will guide us and makes decisions about how we must live; Yet looking out the window I am confused For people have gathered in the Market Square and they have tied ropes around the Statue of our living founder. Not the first, for the Party has reigned for over two hundred years, merely another incantation, one of many from the same bloodline, though all influenced “For lack of a better word” by the philosophy of their ancestry. And they have gripped the many lassos in their hands, and are puling. There is shouting, there are fires and explosions, and the soldiers whom we once knew as Confidents are fleeing. Some fire shots, and protestors fall, yet with confiscated weapons many retaliate and soldiers fall. Bodies lay in the streets, yet the Party is in control, and we cannot believe this is random. Can we?

He turned to his colleague, a somewhat younger religious man known as Father Driosken. The two men dressed in clerical clothes were in a state church, one where the illusion of free speech reigned, where Confidents dressed as the Public and reported back any untoward activities.

We can never be certain; began Father Driosken, although I cannot see any other solution to explain the event that is now occurring. As a man of faith, I know that faith is hopefulness, it is never blind acceptance.

And what of loyalty, did God not test Abraham by telling him to sacrifice his Son Isaac before revealing his true intentions?

The God we trust, even when the Confidents came and removed people in the night, took them from their families and-, Some of course were never seen again. Others were abused, raped, sodomised, both men and women, beaten, tortured, until they were finally-'

Converted; Yes I know interrupted Father Pinotti, watching as the statue crashed, it's blackened iron structure smashing open like a demonic eggshell, to show there was nothing to fear from the threats of Satan, for God was, and always is in control.

Have you been, converted?” Inquired Father Driosken, I mean do you still doubt this is God's work, that finally after many years of standing by our faith God has finally answered our prayers and given us what we want;

And what is that?”

A world free of false idols;

Father Pinotti gave a quizzical look of doubt.“Well, one less at least.” he confirmed.

Shall I tell you a story? A man is given a wooden idol as a present by his Father, but it brings only unfortunate results, everything seems to be going wrong, till finally the man can stand it no more, and smashes the wooden idol with a sword, only to find Gold coins fall from a secret compartment; Stated Father Driosken.
Something to ponder whilst we talk with our guest; General Sauridon.” Replied Father Pinotti.

Yes, General Sauridon, whose image now lays in broken ruins. The loyal and indoctrinated members of the party, for we are all one. Now dance and scorn, instead of praise, and yet I feel this mass scene is like many the result of conformity. Are you coming? Inquired Father Driosken, I mean will they let us through?”

Oh of course. After all it was us whom shall we say, were chosen to set things in motion'

The two men were not only allowed to leave, they were given a rousing reception of cheers and physical greetings of the amiable kind. In fact they had to politely thank the masses whilst continuously moving towards the State prison known as the Correction Facility, where many had confessed to whatever they were accused of, whether guilty or innocent, and those whom refused were murdered. Sometimes they were murdered even after confessing, for the State had gotten what it wanted, and this piece was deemed random without structure.

Was General Sauridon random without structure?” thought Father Pinnoti to himself, did he know what was truly occurring? Or was he like us, a man of irremovable faith? Even against all evidence, did he still cling on to the fact he was right? And is Father Driosken also a man of Irremovable faith, does he still hold out hope of seeing the woman he loves, the woman he was destined to marry? The one whom disappeared ten years ago, taken along with two other men from the local area for distributing offensive literature. The Bible.”

The two men had keys. Father Pinotti seemed to rush as he turned the lock that entwined the two oak doors, making it look like a Town hall meeting place, Only the barbed wire on the walls, and security cameras and now empty guard posts, contradicted the assumption. Inside was a black and white octagonal patterned floor, a desk and a huge staircase with a shining oak brown coloured bannister. The illusion of comfort. Yet unlike a celestial retreat. Upon entering the top, and walking down a darkened corridor, all became of despair. The walls were old and filled with the stench of decay. The jails in each row smelt of urine and excrement, some had bloodstains on the walls caused by beatings, rapes and in some cases. Eventual suicides. Only one jail was without odours, only one had been given a coating of white, though not enough to deny the facts, for that was never the intention.”

Good Evening General.” muttered Father Driosken, opening the door and entering. In all prisons, there was, or rather should be, a guard on duty. Though the one whom stood within the General's cell, was not one of his own. He was a man, dressed in peasant clothes and proud no doubt of his true heritage, he had once been a Confident, but he had been converted, and the test of faith in whom we must trust had been given to Father Driosken. God had told him to accept this man, to prove they had nothing to fear, for God is in control. So he did, and God was indeed right.

How long do you think you can keep me here? Inquired General Sauridon in an heavy structured accent, the kind that was easy to impersonate. Even as we speak my loyal members are rising up to crush your rebellion, they are preparing to execute you all, soon we will regain our rightful place as the voice of the people.”

General Sauridon was an obese, rounded man, with greasy black hair and a short stature making him look like a ball, as if he could be thrown down a flight of stairs and bounce off the wall. a thought many whom had suffered under his regime had no doubt contemplated. Father Driosken being no different, despite being a man of God,, he was still human and therefore not yet divine.

Have you looked out the window General? Inquired Father Driosken, yet looking at the guard for an answer.

The guard shook his head as if an interpreter.

Father Driosken contemplated this statement of faith before telling the guard, “Leave us please'; If we need you we will call, Go and get yourself something to eat you've earned it.”

Yes, go and enjoy your ill gotten gains while you still can; retorted General Sauridon, We know how to deal with traitors, that collaborate with our enemies! Then smiling added, Of course if you was to confess to me, I shall be lenient.”

The guard was about to give a hostile reply, however Father Pinotti beckoned him not to respond, and he left upon obedience.
The sound of his footsteps echoed until they could no longer be heard, and Father Drioseken sat on a chair, opposite the bed General Sauridon was sitting up on. He tried to devoid himself of any hostile feelings he might have for this man, as a Christian he believed it was only God whom truly judged, humans merely played a part in the structure of things, the random decisions we all made had been thought out by God, or so he liked to convince himself.

Where are they General? He began, a time old question that still the General refused to comply with. The people, those whom disappeared, where are they? Where is the woman I love whom you took from me, where is Amalya. Tell me, please?”

You dare to order me? What do I care about some whore? If she is truly the woman you claim her to be why has she not appeared? You say I am finished, you say the people in your own words are truly free; Yet she does not appear; Why is that? have you asked yourself? It is because she is not free as you put it, only true freedom comes with the party!”

Tell me, inquired Father Driosken, raising his voice in true, yet unintentional harassment, where is Amalya.”

And what will you do if I do not tell you? Mmm,” Inquired the General, his face turning into the smile of a grotesque schoolboy, that reminded everyone who saw it of the photo of him in his military uniform at the age of seven with his Mother beside him, kneeling besotted in a picture of pride, that would lead to the worst outcome. At that moment Father Pinotti placed a hand on his Colleague's shoulder, noticing his fingers beginning to clench and confirmed, “We will merely ask you again when the time comes! Now if you will excuse us we have matters to discuss.”
Before any reply could be uttered Father Pinotti propelled his colleague out of the cell, locking the door with his own set of keys as if to deny the facts. He then continued to propel his colleague to another part of the area, this one an office on the same floor and stated upon entering.

Sit down, we need to talk?”

About what?” Inquired Father Driosken, taking the seat in front of the desk, while Father Pinotti took the official residence as if conducting an interview.

The Geneva Convention. Father Pinotti replied, We need to do this the way we have been taught, I know how you feel, and I understand the true feelings you have for this man; Feelings that are in us all, and yet we must show we are truly children of our Lord Jesus Christ. For his is the true Kingdom, one that has continued to reign despite attempts at repression by so many Dystopias, from the Roman Empire that eventually crumbled, to Stalin and Hitler, and all those others whom sort the value of fear over love, a value destined to fail;

Except in Orwell's 1984 have you read it? It is banned by the State, along with many other books such as Huxley's Brave New World, and Zamyatin's We. and many others I could mention, including the Bible.”

I believe Orwell wrote it as a warning; If he had given it a nice ending it would not have been heeded.” Stated Father Pinotti.

Though in the book the majority were ignorant of the facts, only the Party knew what was going on, and of course Winston Smith. Where as here, we all know, Guards walk openly, barbed wire fences and dogs are visible, Cameras watch and record our every move. Why'd you think he made his hero an Atheist? “

Because he was one.”

I have a different theory, would you care to hear it.” Inquired Father Driosken.

Please.”

Supposing, began Father Driosken, Winston Smith had not given into the Party.? Supposing he had not given into his fear, the rats? Supposing like Paul he had not denied his God under torture, or like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego had allowed himself to be thrown in the furnace, or rather the metaphorical equivalent? Well he might have won the battle, but not the war, for the Party would still be in power, and because of ignorance of the truth not enough would have risen up. In fact far from denying religious freedom or anti-Government protests by the Prolertarian, the Party encouraged it. No the reason he was not someone whom believed in God is because only when the masses understand the truth can all be truly free!”

And are we truly free? Does it not say in 1984, Freedom Is Slavery? And is it not our desire to belong, to be loved and secure, as Christians? An Atheist would say The Roman Empire collapsed because of economics, they could not maintain authority and the people overthrew them. There are those in other parts of the World whom believe the Party was destroyed by it's own greed, by the corruption induced on Animal Farm, that the sanctions were implied; That this caused the people to rise up, and it was the inner Party Leaders and their stubbornness that caused these random acts to occur?!”

And what do you believe?” Inquired Father Pinotti

That God moves in mysterious ways.” Smiled Father Driosken.

And therefore we still have work to do. The search for those taken by the State is still continuing;

Yet, no sign of Amalya.” Interrupted Father Driosken

No, and still you persist in asking him.”

Because he knows; It is only his false belief that stops him from telling the truth, once that is gone, like all criminals he will learn to confess.”

And if he doesn't? So far we have search parties out with people, helping them to find their loved ones. Everywhere you look there are placards with the faces of those arrested by the State. Photos are being shown to anyone whom might have information. And sometimes the results are not what they wanted. We have discovered bodies drowned, illegally buried and in some cases dumps filled with the burned remains of those the State had sort to dispose of!”

Like Nazi Germany with the holocaust; Are you saying I should just give up on finding her? Because I don't think anyone else would, and nor am I going too.”

I'm not telling you to give up finding her, I'm merely saying if he does not cooperate, you cannot let your emotions stray you from the path you chose as a Christian, the path we all took; As you will know we have sent representatives to try and obtain recognition from The Geneva Convention, and the United Nations in the attempt to get ourselves recognised as the rightful Government.”

And you believe my actions could reverse the decision.”

I'm saying we cannot become like them.” At that pointed he patted his colleague on the shoulder and Confirmed, If she is alive we will find her. In the meantime we have to continue to convert, there are many who have gone over to our side to coin a phrase, however the Party still has loyal supporters, some as stubborn as General Sauridon himself. I have asked all those who knew Amalya and I know you have done the same.”

The once loyal people of the State, or so it was believed. Now marched against the very authority they had entrusted. Father Pinotti and Father Driosken marched with them, amidst a sea of memories as each photo of a family member, or loved one was held high. Some Confidents fearing for their safety had confessed to whatever information they felt would protect them from the vengeance of the masses. Others whom stood by the party were arrested like General Sauridon, though unlike General Sauridon some were beaten. Tortured and killed. Father Pinotti had spoken out against all violence, quoting Nietzsche whom had stated, When you fight a Dragon be careful less you become one yourself. Yet, thought Father Pinotti as he watched the helpless look of despair on his friend's face as they marched with the crowd. “How do you retain control, is it a matter of faith, or mere conformity? Was the crowd marching for justice against a now deposed regime, or were they merely following orders, like those they condemned?

The crowd stopped at a field, complete with leafless autumn trees that held out there branches like the dying arms and malnourished bodies of those that had first risen up against the State, When the Aristocracy had oppressed the poor. Stealing land, using them as cheap labour and even murdering those whom sort equality. Many peasants marched and the army opened fire, killing all whom dared to oppose the Aristocracy. So perhaps with faith and determination the protests continued, until enough was done to overthrow those that had misused their power, and the revolution was formed.

In time however it became corrupted, and those that had once opposed the Aristocracy had indeed become part of it. “That, concluded Father Pinotti to himself, must never be allowed to happen again' All through history economic revolutions or those of similar ilk had brought dreadful repercussions; The Russian Revolution had lead to Stalin, The collapse of the German economy after the First World War, had lead to Hitler being elected because the Germans had to pay compensation to the allies. And although some would say the French Revolution had not turned out so bad, there were many Middle Eastern coups where Civil unrest still preceded and no overall person was in charge, And things had indeed become worse.
That is why we must keep to our faith. Yet some, are more capable than others, and we must continue to assist.

The crowd slowly began to make there way into the deserted area, some holding the photos of those missing, as if to give them the determination to continue. There were caves amidst the grass scorned paths, combined with mud and some growing petals. The crowd arrived at one of the caves and a few armed with electric torches lighted a path for the rest to follow. Even then it was clear that the mounds of buried earth on the ground and whitened objects, were those of their dead friends and relatives killed by The State, their flesh having decayed or been eaten partly by wild animals that scavenged for food. It was then amidst a shining light as if illuminating the truth in fact, rather than comfort that Father Driosken saw a familiar dress on a decayed rotted corpse It was Amalya, she had been killed by The State.

What is it?” Inquired Father Pinotti, noticing as well as sensing, the subtle changes of his friend and colleague. The way he arched his shoulders and tensed his fists, as if torn between the need to express his desires, and rationalise the situation for what was deemed a greater cause.”

Amalya, he muttered, they killed her,”

Whether the crowd heard him or not was at that moment, immaterial, for at that moment, they all sort answers even when the results were in front of them. And the desire to continue in faith or strike out in vengeance was dividing them in thought, if not yet in physical strategy.
Outside in the far distance the cheering of free people and sounding of cars hooting, could be heard. The fires were still burning and Father Pinotti wondered how long this would last. Sensing that he needed to encourage his friend, he clenched his elbow as if leading a blind person into the light and whispered gently. “God is with us, we will face this together. We will all face this together, we will not let this evil divide us. Whatever Satan is prepared to throw at us, God is always with us!”

Is he? Is this part of some plan, or are all events a series of combined outcomes? Is that not how both dystopias and utopias are formed. And like Winston Smith in 1984, is it not merely a case of choosing what to accept as well as what to believe?

It is faith, replied Father Pinotti watching the crowd now express their emotions in cries and scorns, We must continue with our faith, we cannot be divided. Look at it, she is not what you see, she is free, she is with God.”

I wanted her here with me.” he shouted, so loud that people heard him. Yet they were caught up in their own revelations,. However Father Pinotti knew it had registered, if only at the moment subliminal, and soon it would rise to the surfaces of their minds, and he knew the possibility of another dystopia was a threat to what they had fought for and continued to believe in.

I want to return to the prison, Stated Father Driosken, I need to speak with General Sauridon.”

We cannot leave at this moment, we need to stay with these people, show them our faith is strong.”

Or they will think differently, are we not then suppressing thought? Oh perhaps negative thought, yet thought all the same without debate or reason. I will remain with you, yet when we return I have many questions for General Sauridon, and I want them answered before he attends The Geneva Convention for War Crimes.

In silence the two men made their way back. Whilst all around the revolution, as it was now known continued. And, thought Father Pinnoti, “Just as in 1984, the prolls have no idea what is really occurring. The threat of going from one extreme to the other was becoming more real. For when those that disappeared are found to be dead, there are those whom will sort to exploit other peoples despairs for their own purposes, replacing God's will with that of man's,? Yet this cannot be allowed, we must stand firm, and show we believe in a higher form of judgement, than simple revenge against those that have wronged us.

Father Pinotti stopped his colleague a few steps from the cell, he looked at him as if expecting an answer to a silent question.

I'm not going to harm him; replied Father Driosken, I just need to know why?”

And will that change the outcome? For you I mean.”

Dystopias remove choices, they take away free will. As a Christian I need to look for the good in all, and find out how to bring them to faith.”

And if they do not? He is going to stand trial at The Geneva convention when the time comes, how will that be explained to him?”

We must act within the law, conformity is part of rehabilitation; This is not the same as the tactics used by The State. Or in dystopian novels such as 1984.”

Winston and Julia, me and Amalya, two people in love, one driven apart by man, the other kept together by faith in one God; I need to speak with General Sauridon now.”

Very well, stated Father Pinotti I will be at the Reception desk if you need any assistance.”

Father Driosken watched his colleague leave then entered the cell with his key, locking the door behind him, and standing as if in observation of something he did not yet fully understand.

General Sauridon beamed his usual triumphant smile, yet this time it seemed questionable, like the State in We, a novel that was considered a predecessor to 1984, working along similar lines, one Orwell allegedly took inspiration from. Though unlike 1984, one with hope.

You have come to question me? Inquired the General. I will tell you only what I, want you to know. My family are of noble blood, my Mother installed in me a sense of worth and obedience, you would do well to learn it.”

I have a teacher, his name is Christ.”

You believe your religion will save you? If you are all powerful why keep me here? Why not give me the freedom to debate, isn't that what you Christians believe in, the truth?”

I am not all powerful, I am weak, like you, like everyone in times of need, that is why I seek answers;

I am not weak, protested General Sauridon, in a somewhat frightened voice, yet smiling inanely as he half rose to his feet, before sitting down again. Father Driosken remained calm, before stating:

I need to know about Amalya, we found her remains, do you know who killed her, and why?”

And if I say yes, what will you do? What will your God allow you to do? You are still not free, do you realise that you will never be free, soon my loyal followers will come, they will rescue me;

At that point General Sauridon got up, more it seemed to avoid reality than retain it. He went to the window, peered through the bars and seemed to see a different scene than what was occurring. One according to Father Driosken, etched in the old ways of the past, the old ways that had failed and therefore needed to change.

And where are they General? Inquired Father Driosken, his voice sounding deliberately sardonic, or is this all part of an elaborate plan? Is the pastoral scene going to change to show the party still rules? Or will you face the truth?”

At that moment General Sauridon turned away from the window, listened it seemed to the continuous noise of the crowd for a moment before solemnly stating:

I have been brought up to trust in the Party, my Mother enrolled me as a child in the youth movement, and from there I learned all about the history of our glorious struggle, a struggle which you now endevour to destroy, yet you will not succeed, soon my loyal subjects will come and free me, for I have been chosen as the leader of the people, indoctrinated from birth as is my right!|

Father Driosken could see the glassy eyed look upon General Sauridon's face, a look of misused faith as well as childhood memories. He thought of Lenin's quote about being given a child of seven and having him for life. And he remembered the part in 1984 when Winston Smith dismissed the memories of his Mother because of his loyalty to the Party. And he wondered if General Sauridon's Mother had an an entirely negative effect on him. And although he despised this man for what he had done, he still believed in forgiveness of all whom had fallen and therefore inquired:

And what about your Father?|

He was weak, admitted General Sauridion, he wanted to water down what we had achieved, he would have preferred an outcome more to your liking.”

And what happened to him?”
He died of natural causes at 86. “There was a pause then General Sauridon shouted as if in need of repentance, We did not kill him, I know what you think of me, but I am loyal to those I love, I am loyal also to the Party.”

Father Driosken knew that General Sauridon was aware of being analysed, yet in truth he had no sympathy for this man, despite his Christian values, all he could think of was that Amalya had been murdered, and the outcome would be questioned the way events were questioned in We, and not accepted as they were in 1984; He told himself he would not dismiss her memory as easily as Winston Smith had dismissed the memory of Julia, he would hold onto it for as long as he could, no matter how much it pained him.

Do you want to tell me anything, General?”

There was a silence, as if of mistrust, yet each side needed to analyse the other in order to convert by persuasion when force did not work, so General Sauridon stated:

My earliest memory was as a child playing with a little girl. We were both three and she came from the other side. If you go to where the Town hall is and walk from your right, past the dusty road you will find it. It is where the workers marched against the imperialists in respect of freedom. She was dressed in rags. We had improved conditions, yet there was still a long way to go. I remember one evening, we were playing near some rubble, I believe it used to be an old building the imperialists used. I was running all over the remains, and helping her as if she was a princess being escorted over a puddle. We were laughing and enjoying ourselves, until I heard my Mother call me from a far, I'm not certain where she was, but I could tell from the sound of her voice that she was angry. I pretended I did not hear, and besides I would only be a few minutes. All seemed quiet at first, then my Father showed up. He was always sent to fetch me, he told me it was not civilised to act the way I was doing, and that it was my duty to lead by example. I wanted to stay with my friend, but my Father just smiled at her and said, perhaps some other time?! For a few days I was kept busy with educational work, concerning the role of the party. My Mother appointed a tutor and he would watch me all the time, or so it seemed? When I asked if I could play with my friend because I missed her, he would reply perhaps someday? I never saw her or her family again, I visited the house one day and saw men boarding it up; I had managed to give my tutor the slip, I did however see three wooden boxes, two large and one small, the size of a child.

Father Driosken remained mutual without reply, knowing how much he hated this man for what he had done, and yet trying to empathise in ways of Christian understanding, whilst demanding his own form of justice that went beyond that of God and the Geneva convention.

Did you ask your Mother what they were?”

She said they were old stuff being taken to the dump;

The one near the caves, thought Father Driosken to himself, allowing General Sauridon to continue as any good interrogator would.

In time, because I was so busy, what with my tutoring and my Mother enrolling me in the Party's youth section, I forgot about Liania, I would have liked to have been there.

At that moment General Sauridon shot up, as if rejecting a form of reality that did not comply with his training, the way Father Driosken remembered Winston Smith had rejected the memory of his Mother after being tortured into submission by The Party, yet this for General Sauridon was more personal.

I have to lead, I must do what his right for the people.”

Outside he could see the empty stand where his statue once stood., the crowds anarchic and his men failing in their attempt to maintain control. He looked upward, and stated:

Both my parents are gone, I don't believe I will see them again, I do not accept your faith, your reality, “Then smiling tearfully yet triumphant” I accept The Party, if we are strong, if we are united, then they will listen to us, if we can maintain our strength then this set back will not prevail.

Father Driosken remained silent, his thoughts turning now to Winston Smith's analysis of the Proles and how they had real; power, to work together, to understand and show compassion the way Christ had taught us. And yet how difficult was it, to put away personal hatred and bitterness in exchange for a working solution, to think rationally, yet not in the way of Dystopian novels that sort to control through torture and intimidation, but through logic and the ways of higher determination that as a Christian he should have achieved. Yet he could not stop thinking of Amalya, she was his Julia and he was not prepared to desert her, he would hold onto her memory for as long as he could because although he believed she was in Heaven, he missed her, and wanted her with him forever.

And it did not matter what caused these memories to exist, he told himself, staring occasionally at the General's back, wanting to strike him down, love, hate, desire, all were part of her and all brought him closer to some one he believed he had lost.

Did you have many friends after Liania and her Parents, “Left” Inquired Father Driosken, trying to make the last word seem sarcastic.

The Party is my Family, we are one, replied General Sauridon, I am their Father, and their leader.”

Father Driosken knew that General Sauridon had probably been told that by his Mother, he now began to see that General Sauridon was never really in control, like in all true Dystopias there was more than one level of power play. In 1984 he remembered how no one person had full control, everyone watched everyone else, except for the Proles whom were occupied with the media.

Was God watching this, he was the one in control, and yet freewill could bring about the wrong outcome; concluded Father Driosken in thought. He remembered a story about a group of people on an island who created a Utopia by following the teachings of the Bible as a blueprint, yet religion like politics had always been corrupted. “Was there any reason, he thought, that our society's outcome would be any different? He thought of Amalya as he left the cell, locking the door behind him.

The crowds were still chanting slogans, yet he merely stood at the closed entrance, immersed in his thoughts and beliefs. He knew General Sauridon was the same, holding onto the memories of his Mother, no matter how manipulative she was, yet he had the ability to escape from his past and be free of any guilt. “There was two ways, he told himself, one was to kill General Sauridon, “It would be quite easy; he confirmed; After all this sort of thing happened when Dictators were overthrown. Yet he knew there was another way. He opened the door and stepped out into the street. The crowd did not seem to notice him as he walked through them, oblivious like an individual, and that was what he wanted, to be alone with his thoughts, to rationalise independently and to be able to think for himself., to be free of the masses, just like Winston Smith had wanted. To question The State like D-503 in WE, whilst remaining faithful to his beliefs, that had determined for him the outcome he and those like him had put their trust in. Yet just as D-503 questioned the State, so he questioned his beliefs.
For though he knew there was a God, he questioned what had happened to Amalya, the way characters in the Bible had questioned God's will. And he wondered, as he ignored the crowds and made his way to the church, if God was really listening to him now?

They had never bothered to tear down the building. Even though Religion like all opposition had been State controlled ,and probably kept to give the false impression of a democracy! He wondered if somehow his doubt was doing the same?

I will continue in my faith, he told himself, looking upward, Amalya, I know you are watching over me, and I know that in time we will be reunited! For you are my Julia, and yet, I cannot remove this bitterness I feel towards them for what did to you, in taking you from me.”

The building was empty, yet he was convinced there was a presence. Whether of thought or faith he did not dwell. He studied the empty seats, people had come, and so had the Government's Officers, in plain clothes, watching all the people who attended, and if they so much as were suspected of offenses against the State, they disappeared.

Just like Amalya, he told himself, they kill them, just like they killed Amalya, I love you Amalya” he told himself. I will not erase you the way people are erased in Dystopias; For this Dystopia no longer exists, except in me, and yet when I think of the rats in the cage ready to rip into Winston's face, and his cry of, “Do it to Julia.” I now know I must give my pain, my hatred, even my unforgiveness to the God who died on the cross, I give it to Christ, I free myself, so unlike Winston and Julia, we can be together.

Father Driosken prayed at his church, he cleansed himself of all bitterness, and when he arose he turned to see Father Pinotti was smiling,

You have made the right choice, he stated, yet it is not the last. The Geneva Convention will be preparing for General sauridon to go to trial. We cannot interfere, yet we must bare him no malice, for a World built on hate will destroy itself; Come, he stated holding out his hand in a greeting of empathy, we have much work to do.


The End.