Saint Austin

“You’re nothing but a runt!”

CRACK

I let out a loud cry. Brother Austin was cruel when giving out punishments that were undeserved. And when they were deserved, it was even worse. He was precise in his placements. The neck, ears, and even my more private areas. Each lash that I was given hurt awfully bad. It matched the pain I felt inside when they made fun of me. He, the other kids, even the town folk. Brother Austin was our leader. Well, their leader anyway. They all stood and watched my torment.

“I’ve had enough of you!”

CRACK

I laid in the dirt. I could feel blood begin to leak out of my newly opened skin. All this over taking a sliced piece of bread? Unbelievable. I heard him walk closer to me. The sting of a thousand bees flooded my cuts.

“Even this salt cannot purify you.”

I writhed in my pain.

“There is no saving you. For the grace of God could never redeem such a mistake as yourself. You are bound for Hell. If I ever see you here in Saint Austin again, your punishment will be ten times as worse.”

After lying there for ages, listening to their laughs and name-calling, I got up. I started to wander off to the forest when I heard someone say one last name.

“Devil Spawn!”

That one. That name right there set me over the edge.

“You’re right,” I responded “I am a wretched orphan. My father could be the Devil! And that’s why you should run. No one knows the day or the hour, but I’ll be back when you least expect in Saint Austin. And you’d better pray for forgiveness, cause Hell’s coming with me!”

The people looked at me in horror and disgust. I limped off into the forest and they never saw me again.

Until now.

Ten years after my brutal final beating, I was laying in my room pondering my life. A sweet pioneer couple found me and took me in. Since then, I’ve gained three siblings. I worked in our father’s field and hunted when I could. Became real good at it too. I’ve had ups and downs, as everyone does, but it was a good life. Way better than my first 12 years. but something was missing. Something deep down inside of me just wasn’t satisfied. This burning angry that just kept gnawing at me. I let it out in spurts. Couple fights here and there. The thrill excited me. But I was never satisfied. Then I remembered Saint Austin. All the pain and suffering that I endured there. I knew if I wanted to put out the fire in me, I needed to do what I promised.

Next morning, I told my parents I needed to go. My mother adamantly refused, but Pa knew. He could just see it in me. After I said my goodbyes, I was off. Heading straight to Saint Austin was a death wish, so I planned. I needed money, equipment, and skills to pull this off. I went to the closest town and asked for a bounty.

Two years of hunting men and the occasional thievery, and I’ve got quite an arsenal. A double barrel, two Colt revolvers, my lasso, a knife, and a couple sticks of dynamite. I pulled out my Bible and turned to Hebrews twelve verse two. I could never compare to Jesus, but he endured and claimed his spot at the right hand of God. His goal was to die for us. My goal is to kill for Him.

“Father God, please forgive me for the acts I’m about to commit.”

I put my Bible away and got on my horse. The sun started setting, making it the perfect to burn this town down. As I wander into town, I look toward the church that sits on the hill. I had often looked at the large cross on top with dread. Now, I am filled with so much delight.

“Excuse me, sir.”

I turn to my right as I see this short woman. Her eyes peer at me through her glasses.

“Would you like to come to church?”

“You’re having evening church?”

“Yes sir,” she replied.

“I’d love to go.”

As I go to put my horse up, I feel a pull. It’s deep down in my heart. It’s telling me not to do this. Is it God? Is he trying to tell me that things have changed? Or maybe he’s telling me this isn’t right in general. Not committing murder is a commandment after all. Well, if it’s so, I’d better leave it at the altar.

“Are you ready?” she pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Yes ma’am.”

We walk up and into the church. The sanctuary is full. The only pew with seating is in the back. It had been painted red since I left. I glanced towards the front. There were two extra rooms beside the pulpit. One was filled with cleaning supplies. The other was a punishment room. We sit down and wait.

“I’m so glad you agreed to stay! You’ll love our preacher.”

“Any man of God is worth hearing once.”

“He’s more than a man of God. He’s God’s Man.”

God’s Man huh? She must think he’s the real deal. The door from what used to be the torture room opens. Out steps-

“Good evening church,” the same voice from all those years ago calls out.

A shiver shoots down my spine. Brother Austin steps out. He’s bald now and wears glasses like the woman I sit with. My blood starts to boil.

“Do we have any prayer requests?” he asks.

Strange. He never started a service like this before. People proceed to tell him their concerns. Sickness, job problems, the drought. He seems empathetic.

“Let us pray for these things. Dear Father-”

Wow. His prayer is caring. He isn’t praying for the power to punish or threaten. He’s praying for love and peace. Maybe this isn’t right. Maybe he and the town have changed.

“…glory to You. Amen.”

Maybe I had better forget about this revenge plan. They were wrong before, but now? God must’ve gotten a hold of them.

“Now before we start, I need Grace to come up here.”

A little girl around 11 gets up. She timidly walks to the front as everybody watches. She stands in front of the congregation with tears in her eyes.

“Miss Grace, is it true that you were caught lying?”

“Yes, but-” Brother Austin puts a finger to her mouth.

“Grace, it doesn’t matter why you lied. It’s the fact that you did lie.”

Her tears start flooding.

“Grace, when you sin, you must be disciplined.”

He holds his hand out while another man comes up and gives him a whip. God no. Please God no.

“I’m sorry you have to see this,” the woman says to me

The crowd hurls insults at her. Wretched, pathetic, Devil Spawn. The girl sobs as she turns away from Brother Austin. He pulls on the whip and the cocks it back.

BANG

A loud shot echoes through the church as the smoke rolls off my pistol. Everybody ducks down out of their seats. The only thing breaking the silence is their beloved preacher’s moans of pain. I walk up to the front and grabbed him.

“Gotcha now, don’t I?”

I threw him out towards the congregation. Members go to check on him when I let off another shot in the air.

“You think that you’re high and might don’t you!” I screamed. “Act like you’re the only one who can give out punishment. Well, guess what Brother Austin? God’s punishment is divine and truly smites the evil on this earth.”

I raised my right fist in the air

“I am the Righteous Hand of God! The same Devil Spawn you kicked out of town all those years ago. And none of you changed your ways. I promised you I’d be back with Hell.”

I pulled out my other pistol.

“Now I’m back. And here’s the Hell I promised.”

BANG BANG

More shots rang out. I aim at everyone I can remember. Every face that ever kicked me, spit on me, starved me, ridiculed, and rebuked me. The women and children run as the men pick up their guns. Shots start to return to me as I hid behind the podium. I switch from my revolvers to my shotgun. More people fall to the ground. I shoot, reload, and shoot more. This diabolical game of peek-a-boo only ends when I light some dynamite and throw it into the pews.

I sit and wait. The church is dead quiet again. I stand up and look at what I’ve done. I killed people. They weren't wanted by the law. Just by me. Even if they were evil, that doesn’t make it right, does it? Then why don’t I feel any remorse? God, am I doomed?

The same door Brother Austin came out of shuts. I pull out a knife. I throw open the door and I see Grace. She’s curled up in the corner. As her eyes meet mine, she screams. The girl is terrified.

“It’s okay, I’m here to help you.” is what I manage to get out.

“God I’m sorry!” she hollers over and over.

“Grace, I’m not here to hurt you.”

I sit beside her while she cries. She reminds me of my sister back home. And I’ve probably scarred her for life. God, please forgive me. The realization hits me, and I cry with her. I’ve ended the lives of so many people. Maybe I am a Devil Spawn. But she isn’t. She deserves a better life than this.

“Grace, let me get you somewhere safe,” I say wiping my eyes.

“Where?”

“I know a nice town full of nice people.”

I hold my hand out. To my surprise, she grabs ahold of it. I tell her to close her eyes as I navigate her out of the church. The cold sense of shame washes over me. Worse than they had ever made me feel. And in God’s house of all places? What was I thinking?

We walk over to my horse, and I sit her on it. I’m sure someone back home will take her in. If not, I’ll find another town. Anywhere is better than Saint Austin. And a BANG is better than a CRACK.