Re: promenade ; elevator
The priest placed his hands on the man's shoulders, standing behind him, and again it seemed as though the church bells reached through time and space to ring, the heavenly choir exaulting their God and his mercy. He too called out to God, to hear the cries of the sinner and hear his words.
"He repents, O Lord."
I repent.
"He seeks forgiveness, my God."
Forgive, forgive.
He withdrew his hands and unwrapped the rosary, a long string of beads carved from black stone and fashioned into that which would not break. The man asked what this was, as though he did not know. They knew. Sinners brought God's wrath on themselves and sought to flee from it, to take shelter under that which they had denied.
"It is retribution," the priest said. With unnatural speed he moved; the rosary was stretched taut in his hands, horizontally, and he threw it over the man's head and pulled it back against his throat, and the amount of pressure applied left no question as to his intentions. He meant to strangle the man, and he meant to do it quickly. "Accept your fate, sinner," he hissed. "You have brought it upon yourself."