The Dark Somnium - "A Strange Church Appeared in My Hometown" Scary Stories from The Internet | Creepypasta

Episode Date: April 8, 2023

This creepypasta scary story is from the nosleep subreddit, written by Matt Dymerski (aka M59gar)Make sure to check out the original story and support the authorA Strange Church Appeared in My Hometown: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/5v8ecc/the_church_of_the_sacred_way/--- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/darksomnium/message Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

On the drive home for spring break, the very first thing I saw of my town was an enormous and many-spired church that had not been there before. I did a double-take and drove by on my way in. Each spire was formed of six separate bands of crimson metal spiraling upward in a motionless periouette that crested in a wicked point, slicing the air sharply enough that little trails of clouded moisture could be seen racing from their trips in the humid Northern Carolina afternoon. The six spires along the front of the otherwise bone-white church were higher on the sides

and lower in the middle, forming the impression in my sight of the bottom row of some set of horrible demonic teeth. Only the sheer mundanity of the surrounding environment kept me from immediately labeling the place as evil. Over there was a wooded enclosure for dumpsters. Nearer was a wide parking lot with a scattered assortment of run-down, decade-old cars, typical of my small town. And, directly in front of my car, as I sat staring at a garish child-made sign for a coming bake sale,

I shuddered and decided I would never buy cookies from such a horrifyingly poor choice of architecture. Well, unless they were really cheap or unless they had the rare pistachio flavor I loved, it was just a building, I told myself. Feeling strangely threatened, the next thing I saw after I shifted into drive and continued on, was a raised axe chopping down on something behind an approaching row of bushes. Watching intently as the green angled past, I sighed with relief and waved a old man Kern. He smiled and waved back before continuing to chop wood. A small pile of split logs had already built up alongside the house, and he threw another

piece on top as I turned and lost sight of him. Numerous children were playing in the yards on my street. I slowed to make sure I didn't accidentally hit any as they ran this way and that, throwing balls or screaming. One was sitting on her porch looking downcast, and I watched her as I passed. She did not move. Frowning, I pulled into the driveway of my home and got out to begin grabbing my stuff from the trunk. Well, what could I do? I carried my backpack and duffel bag inside while bracing against the inevitable family rush.

But it never came. Wandering through the house in a days of remembrance and happiness at being home after so long spent to college, I smiled as I found my mom in the kitchen. Hey, I'm back. That's great. She replied, her tone genuinely warm. I'm making a pie. I'll be done in just a minute. She kept her eyes on her work.

I watched her full dough with flour-covered hands for a moment, surprised. My mom had always been a rather hardcore anti-traditionalist. When did you start making pies? Well, a lot of things have changed since you've left me with an empty nest. She teased, still focused on the crust she was making. I've had to pick up hobbies to fill the time. Claire doesn't keep you busy? I joked right back.

She didn't answer. Moving on through the house, I called out from my younger sister, but no reply came. Heading upstairs, I dropped my stuff off in my room, sat on my old bed, gazed around at all the stuff I'd partially forgotten about, and generally took in a refresher of my old life. Nothing in this room had changed a single bit, and it felt good to know that not everything was constantly in transition. Classes, friends, dorm rooms, it all changed regularly, and even that pattern would shift when I graduated.

Nothing was solid, nothing felt real, nothing except this unchanging room. Even my sister would be different. I hadn't been able to make it home for winter break, so she would be half a year older by now, And at that age, half a year was an eternity. Getting up and heading down the hall with a smile, I carefully tapped on her door. There was no response. Claire, I'm coming in. I called carefully.

After another few beats, I pushed open the door and gagged. The smell was horrible. Her room was cluttered nearly beyond recognition. Food wrappers littered the floor like a thick carpet of leaves in a forest. The stacked piles of dirty clothing filled the corners in far greater amounts than she ever had owned. A few flies batted bodily at the window, and I picked my way across the uneven floor and opened it to let the fresh air in. What the hell was this? There was no way my mom didn't know about this. When I'd mentioned Claire's name, she hadn't responded. Were they having

some sort of bitter teenage parent conflict? Routing through the garbage, I found my sister's well-worn diary. Apologizing under my breath, I opened it and leaped through it. Summer, normal entries. Fall, normal entries. In October, the writing turned to heavier, as if she was writing angrily. The entries turned to talk of conflicts with our mom, as I'd expected, but one strange line caught me off guard. Tried to call Nathan, but mom took away my phone. I swallowed unhappily. That wasn't at all. how our family usually operated. Had my sister been suffering for months without being able to contact me? The last entries devolved into huge, angry script. Single sentences took whole pages. I hate her,

I hate her, I hate her. But that had been three months ago on the entry marked December 25th. No more writing followed for nearly the whole diary. The very last page seemed to have something written on the back, but it had been stuck to the binding by small brown splatters that I assumed were coffee stains. I tugged at the paper a bit before deciding not to mess with it. Better not to leave evidence that I'd read her diary. Dropping the book, I headed downstairs and stood with my arms crossed, watching my mother working on a second pie crust.

Something wrong between you and Claire? She didn't respond. I took in a deep breath. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, but at least tell me where she is. She just kept pulling and tugging the flattened dough. I was beginning to feel strange about this. Seriously, where's Claire, Mom? When she continued to say nothing, I grabbed her arm.

At that, she finally turned and looked at me with flaring anger. You mind your own business, Nathan. I'm just trying to hold this family together the best I know how, and right now I am making a goddamn pie. She'd never sworn at me before. I pulled back in confusion. Things have not been good with you gone. She continued, turning back to the crust.

Her tone became almost sweet. I know I'm not in the best mood right now. When we go to church tomorrow, we can talk, all right? Okay. I backed away then and headed for the front door. We'd never gone to church before. What had caused her to start going now? The thought of my mother entering that bone-white church with its teeth of red spires made me shiver.

I wanted to find Claire, but that same girl was sitting on her porch staring at the ground. Cutting through the chaotic swarms of playing kids, I approached cautiously. She was a long-time neighbor, but she'd been little last time we'd seen each other, and I wasn't sure if she remembered me. Hey Madison, you all right? She looked up in wonder from behind unkempt brown hair. You mean me? Making a show of looking around, I said. Who else is there?

Hopping up onto her sneaker-clad feet, she grabbed my wrist. Do you have any food? It was pure instinct. I pulled back my hand. Food? What? I shook my head. Hold on.

Leading her back up her own porch, I knocked on her front door. After not getting an answer, I slowly inched my way in while looking around. I recognized the bald head in the living room. Approaching the big, soft chair with the girl in tow, I coughed. Her father continued watching television, but asked. What was that? Um, it's Nathan, sir. Your next-door neighbor?

Stepping closer, I moved into his sight. He tilted his head to look past me. Uh, nice to see you, boy. Get out of the way, though, kindly. I don't know if this is my place. I said nervously. He was known to be a gruff man and very direct about his views on raising his children. But I think your daughter is hungry.

He didn't respond. Did you hear me? He said nothing. I reached forward and poked his shoulder next to the yellow stains in his A shirt. He snapped his head to look at me and growled. Screw off, I'm busy. His attention turned back to the television just as quickly. Shaken, but unwilling to leave the little girl hungry, I led her into the kitchen while constantly

checking to see if her father was getting up. At no point did he even so much as glance at us. The cupboards were empty of immediately edible food, but there were still still. stills substantial stores of goods that could be cooked. With amateur hands, I got stuff out and made a meal, making sure to show her how to do it herself in case her father continued to neglect her. She listened intently through each step of the process, taking in every detail. Once it was done, she began wolfing down the food like she was starving.

Sitting awkwardly at her kitchen table, while her father continued to ignore us, I asked, Have you seen my sister, Claire? full, she gave an exaggerated nod. Where at? After taking a big swallow, she told me. The school. That's where all the big kids go. On a Saturday?

She didn't seem to understand the question. Well, find me next door if you need any help, okay? Her nod this time was small and utterly relieved. I still felt the urge to stay, but the need to make sure my sister was safe was stronger. With a pained sigh, I headed back out into the afternoon heat. the swarms of children were all gone. The neighborhood was deathly silent, no buzzing mosquitoes, no birds, no lawnmowers. The symphony of a normal Carolina afternoon had abruptly ended while I'd been inside. As I stood looking around in tense confusion, I sighted a small boy hiding in a deep

bush, staring at me in fear. Before I could ask him what was going on, I heard a footfall. But this was no normal football. I was outside on a hot. in humid summer day, near a wide lane flanked by houses, yet the echo was that of a formal shoe hitting polished marble between high pillars in some vast cathedral-like space. The slow and measured step and their following echoes seemed to be coming from down the street. I began to see something moving past the bushes and trees. To my right, the hiding child gestured frantically. Wary, I moved out to the sidewalk where I could see a distant figure walking down.

down the center of the street. Whoever it was, they looked to be wearing white robes with a red hood that obscured their face. Behind me, the boy in the bushes began sobbing, and I had the sudden instinct that he was not afraid for himself, but for me. Looking up, I sighted a horrified teenage girl hiding in the thickest parts of a nearby tree. Her eyes shifted rapidly from me to the approaching robed figure and back, and she repeatedly tilted her head forcefully away from the stranger as I stared at her.

All right, I could take a hint. Full of apprehension, but not sure why, I began to run. If the robed figure had spotted me, it gave no indication. Its eerily echoing footfalls continued at the same measured pace as I fled down the other end of the block heading for the school. Distance did not dim the sound of the hard shoes slapping on marble. One block away, then two, then three, I still heard it as if it was right on top of me, and still as if we were in a temple-like space together.

Only when I reached the chain-link fence surrounding the school's football field did it stop. And even then the cessation was completely abrupt. The last footfall echoed in my ears with the subalian undertone of a tooth and confident grin unseen behind a red hood. I didn't wait or look behind. I ran for the gymnasium. Bursting within, I ducked as a basketball arched from my head. I tumbled on the smooth floor and held up my arms as a figure rushed at me.

Wait! A female voice shouted, it was familiar, but older somehow. That's my brother! Clammering up, I stared around at the population of what might have been a school dance in another set of circumstances. Half a high school of kids all along the range of teen years stood watching me in return, Sleeping bags and low cloth barriers had been erected in some sort of refugee camp, and massive stockpiles of supplies lined the back walls underneath our school's sports victory banners.

From near these stacks came my sister, thinner, yet fuller of face somehow. Nate! She hugged me tightly, and a surge of pent-up worry flooded through me. Claire, what the hell's going on here? She asked desperately. Did you bring rescue? Rescue. I shook my head and,

gazed at the dirty and distressed faces beyond hers. Rescue from what? An older boy stepped forward. So nobody knows what's happening here? No. They were all deadly serious. Claire let go of me and turned to the others. She spoke loudly so that everyone could hear her. Then that means the rest of the world is safe.

We should make a run for it. She shivered mightily with hope as she turned back to me with wide eyes. Do you have your car? What had happened here to my third? My family in this town. Claire, you have to tell me what's happening. I just got here and I don't understand. She looked to the older boy who had spoken and he grabbed me by the arm and led me roughly

towards the doors back to the football field. Cracking open one, he pointed. That happened. A sourceless, chill breath rolled across the back of my neck as I spotted the white-robed, red-hooded figure standing on the other side of a chain-link fence watching us. It made no move to enter, yet did not retreat. Who is that? More like what.

The boy shook his head. He was the priest at the new church. Nobody's sure when it was built. Sometime near the start of the school year, it was just there, but a lot smaller than it is now. Only a few people were going? I asked, staring at the distant figure with horror. Well, yes, but that's not what I meant. The church itself was smaller then.

Finally, breaking my gaze away, I studied his face for sincerity. What? Is it being added to? Where's the construction equipment? He just shook his head and backed away. Claire rushed close and pulled at my pockets. Your cell phone? She got it out of my pocket and frantically tapped at it before handing it to me.

Open it. We have to call someone. Unlocking it, I gave it back, and she frantically began dialing. She paced the gymnasium, while the large number of other students watched her hopefully. It seemed each of them had their own corner among the sleeping bags and short cloth cubicles, and they had all become very used to remaining in place. Peering back outside at the roped figure, I asked the older boy. What does he want?

Hell if we know. But any kid he captures never seen again. He responded, holding his hand forward. I'm Marcus. Gripping his hand, I told him. It's good to meet you, Marcus. I don't know what's going on here, but we're going to put a stop to this. He pursed his lips but said nothing.

On the other side of the gymnasium, Claire began sobbing. Leaving the door to jog to her, I accepted both her sudden intense hug and the phone. Lifting it to my ear while she remained wrapped around my midsection, I listened. There was a strange background clicking noise and a haunting whisper. I gulped, yes? You are nearly of age. You are invited to attend the Church of the Sacred Way. Partially dragging my sister along with me, I moved to a window and looked out.

The robed figure moved slightly with the words being spoken, indicating that it was him talking, but his white-clad arms were by his sides. Did he have a cellular device under his red hood? How had he intercepted her call? How- Only adults may attend the Church of the Sacred Way. I hope you realize what an honor this is. I do, I told him, just to keep him talking while I tried to figure out how that distant figure was speaking to me.

What do I have to do? Simply come to the cathedral tomorrow at noon. All will be revealed to you, child. Where was his goddamn phone? I could see his hood shifting with the movement of his mouth. A child? I thought you said only adults were invited. All the uninitiated are children.

The sacred way is how you become an adult. You must witness the truth and accept your holy responsibility in this life. Will you be there, Nathan? My fingers had become ice cold around the phone. Sure. The strange, uneven clicking in the background continued for a moment, and then the phone went dead. Bits of frozen moisture had formed around the screen, and I carefully placed it on the floor and backed away.

Many of the students had their heads in their hands and sat hopeless, while others had gotten up and were discussing plans for escape. Claire let go of me and bitterly joined these discussions, but much ado was made about the other students that had set off for nearby towns without results. When they asked me if I had heard anything from anyone about the situation here, I had to tell them I hadn't. Surely, if a terrified teenager had shown up, warning of a strange threat back home, someone would have done something.

Are you safe here? I asked them. Marcus nodded. It doesn't come on the school grounds for some reason. He looked over at those talking about running. It's not going to work. Trying to run is stupid. Nobody's made it.

And that thing is always out there. I think we should fight. Fight? Yeah. Follow me. He took me deeper into the school through halls lit only. by afternoon sunlight. The complex was quiet and empty, save for one room that held a man drawing equations on

the walls. Numbers and signs covered the entire room floor to ceiling, and he had begun again, darkening the nonsense math and science into oblivion. Marcus took some food out of his pocket and threw it in before closing the door and moving on. Leading me into the science lab, he showed me an array of prepared bottles. We've had months to figure this out, but we can't get cold. to the church.

At my approach, he stopped me with a hand. Careful. It's more or less napalm. Ooh. Stepping back, I held up my hands. I don't know. Did it invite you? He glared at me intently.

I'm not... Did it invite you? I gulped again. Yes. With masked fury, he said quietly, then I think you should put these under your jacket and take the priest up on his invitation. you get inside, burn that God-forsaken place to the ground. He was serious.

Joining the others in the gymnasium again, I told them, I'm going to go get my car and look around. I can outrun the priest, yeah? They nodded, and others agreed to act as a distraction while I slipped out. Claire clenched her hands. And then we make a run for it? Marcus watched me from behind the crowd. I glanced at him, and then at my sister.

Sure. Evening was coming on as the other students made noise and I ran towards the opposite side of the school. I'd attended this place for four years and now it all seemed so alien. I recognized some of the stuff on the walls and there was even a photo of the soccer team that had still had me in it for my local championship year, but without electricity and by the orange evening light, all these reminders of my life at home were twisted and off-putting. Bursting out into that familiar front parking lot, I able to be able to be able to the orange evening light.

I aimed for a wide arc around the priest's assumed location. It was only a few blocks, but my heart slammed in my chest throughout. Was something supernatural really going on, or had everyone just breathed in fumes or chemicals and lost their minds? All I knew for sure was that my little sister was scared, and that I had left her here in the clutches of danger for half a year. I would not leave her again. I was the man of the family.

It was up to me. As I completed my wide circle, I saw the accent. again, this time glinting yellow and gold. Old man Kern smiled and waved as before. I approached, thinking he might be unlike the others who hardly responded to me and not at all to younger kids. As I neared the corner of his house, I saw what I had missed before and I ran away as fast as I could.

Pushing into my house, covered in sweat and full of terror, I stomped into the kitchen where my mom was making pie crust. Stop! I shouted at her, grabbing her arms. She screamed and fought violently against me, pushing me off. When she grabbed a knife, I packed off, and she returned to her activity immediately. I felt like sobbing, but I only let a few tears fall. There was no time to lose it.

The next room held evidence of her madness. Old Man Kern's backyard had been filled to the brim like a lumberyard, and similarly, the next room beyond the kitchen was piled high with thousands of pie crust. Why? Why are you choosing this monomical? retinous, repetitive nonsense over your own kids. I must remain worthy. She murmured back without looking at me.

Working hard means you're worthy. But it's pointless. You're not doing anything. She hummed a little tune before saying, The world needs its pie crusts. Vahem it now, I spat. Machines make pie crust, Mom. You're not accomplishing anything.

If you don't work hard, you're garbage. She whispered, needing dough. Useless flesh to be discarded. Full of fear and pain, I ran out into orange, gray, fading twilight. My car was right in the driveway, but I ran next door and entered without waiting. The neighbor girl's father sat watching television, and she was in the kitchen, having middling success at cooking another meal. At seeing me, her jaw trembled. Come here, I told her.

We're getting out of here. Something's horribly wrong with this town. She nodded and took my hand. What about my dad? Putting her behind me, I approached the bald man in the chair. What to say to him? If you don't work hard, sir, you're garbage. Useless flesh to be discarded, right?

He glared, but kept his gaze locked on the television. I do work hard. It's my patriotic duty to watch and listen. We got to stay in the know. Gotta stay vigilant. For the first time, I actually looked at the screen. I'd assumed he was watching a show or the news. No.

at all. The images on that lit screen were at first nonsensical, but then as my brain began to make sense of them, I started to parse the moving shapes and blood and bone landscape upon which they moved. Upon hills of quivering flesh, a white-robed and red-hutted figure walked, talking calmly and consistently about truth and the sacred way. These words simultaneously made no sense and yet were almost understandable. I've tried to listen to it. It's just random noise. I don't understand it at all.

Madison said, but I almost could. I was nearly an adult. Come on, let's go to my car. Running outside, I kept her hand held tight, curving around the bushes to my car at top speed. But white and red emerged from behind green, and Madison was slower to stop than me. As I stumbled and fell roughly to the side of the pavement of my driveway, I heard heard her scream an abject terror. I saw white robes open to reveal gore-covered bones in front of a vast valley of living

grotesqueries. The landscape from her father's television was inside that entity. Behind blood-dripping bone, a gateway to nightmares revealed itself until those robes closed once more and she was gone. Looking up, I saw six spiraled, sharp crimson teeth set in a white bone jaw, just barely visible under the hem of that red hood. The priest was grinning. See you tomorrow, Nathan.

I screamed incoherently in rage and sorrow, but Madison was gone, and the robed entity began walking away down the street with those same eerily echoing footsteps on unseen marble. For the moment, I was exempt from its hunt, for I was already slated for another fate. I screamed angrily after him before leaping up and getting in my car. I would run that demonic thing down with the weight of mankind's machinery, and it would become bloodied bone dust under my wheels. I turned the key in the ignition, but nothing happened. For a time, I was nothing but screams of rage and fist pounding on the dashboard.

Under the shroud of night in a town that no longer had electricity to hold back the darkness, I resorted to bitter walking now that I knew I would not be captured directly. I had no idea what I would find, given that my car did not work and my phone had literally frozen over, but the satisfaction of being right was little consolation. The road I had come in on now ended in a wall of slowly glowing crimson mist that smelled of iron and pain. In a way, this made some of the older denizens of our area correct. There was nothing outside of our town.

The rest of the world was just a concept, and our local community was all that mattered. Walking back to the school took time, but I had no thoughts, just hollow hurt. Something had crept upon my home like a cancer, and it now had all of our elders in its grips. We were alone, and I was next. The younger kids had done well in surviving this long, but it was all inevitable. There was nowhere to go and no escape. The time would march forward and age all the remaining children into adults, and then it would have us.

I entered the gymnasium to find Claire, Marcus, and three others awake and on watch. Claire was relieved to see me, but to Marcus, I said, we fight. He did not smile. He simply nodded. Our fires were already matched in fury. My sister was finally able to sleep now that I had returned, and I sat watching over her through the dark hours of the night. The kids had done well in the business of stockpiling food and maintaining some semblance of

order, and I was impressed that teenagers had done all this without guidance. Claire had told me while falling asleep that, before it had gone down permanently, the Internet had filled their heads with random knowledge, and together they'd collectively been able to cover the range of necessary skills and plans. That was their defense, she reasoned. Knowledge allowed independence and independence. independent thought was somehow the enemy of that creature that stalked them. While guarding her at night, I thought long and hard about that.

Would I have enough independent will to choose differently than my elders? From my mom's mention of going to church tomorrow, they expected me to join them, and I'd seen more than a little bit of a violent reaction when I'd attempted to go against their set minds. Violence was scary, but the thought of my sister being taken into that place of suffering I'd seen was too much. I was walking there now, half in its world, half out. The sloping hills squished and oozed bile under my bare feet, and the air was fire and agony. The disjointed bones of ancient beasts protruded as mountains on the horizon, and a river of blood flowed past as I stumbled

toward a closed great eye in the sky. It began to open, the slightest glare searing my very spirit With the infinite tortures of a massive eternal mind gone mad, and I opened my mouth to scream, but found that I had no lungs. Marcus shook me awake. Don't sleep. On the verge, you'll dream poorly. Still shivering, I said. Poorly?

Christ. He nodded. It's beginning for me, too. I'd have been next if you hadn't come back. So your plan? Yes. The morning light was streaming in through. the windows of the gymnasium.

I won't let you down. I looked at Claire's face, peaceful in sleep, still older than I remembered. If I don't come back, I'll take care of her. You should go before she wakes up or tries to stop you. Yes, that was a good idea. I wasn't sure if I could leave if she was screaming and crying for me to stay. Wordlessly, Marcus and I went to the chemistry lab. I donned the heavy jacket he'd picked for this occasion, and we carefully stocked pockets

he'd sewn inside with a dozen bottles of pseudo napalm. Feeling terribly like a suicide bomber, I steeled myself and began walking towards the ghastly church on the horizon as the sun rose in the sky. Mixing with streams of blank-eyed adults as they made their pilgrimage, I tried to control my breathing. The stress felt nearly overwhelming, and I worried there was a real risk I would pass out. I had napalm strap near my chest, and I was walking toward a monstrous, otherworldly church among a river of fanatical believers, what hope could I have? What chance was there to survive this? The bone-white, red-spired church loomed even larger than I'd remembered it. This time,

I could see that the vehicles in the parking lot were run down and unused, and the dumpster hosted a thick cloud of flies on what looked like discarded flesh. The building might have once started out legitimate, but something had overtaken it and corrupted its former use. The white-robed and red-hitted priests stood outside the church, both nodding at its incoming flock and guarding against any possible action by the children from the school. At seeing me, it stepped forward, and I feared I had been caught, but it just raised a blood-dripped skeletal hand and drew a hot liquid symbol on my forehead. Welcome, child.

Shaking badly, I automatically said, thanks. Don't be nervous. All will be made clear. inside. Okay. Stepping past, I continued on with the stream of believers and approached the wide and tall doors. They were white, but at this distance, I could see off-coloring, like teeth in a gumless mouth, they waited to swallow us. I held my breath as I crossed the threshold, and my instinct was correct. The air on the other side held subtle fire and agony like it had in my dreams. I knew that this was a pocket of hell, Judging from the inside, it was growing.

The corrupted approximations of a church all existed within, but in unholy form. Long, red dripping bones formed pews. The walls were fleshy and had human skin and patches, and the windows were instead hundreds of little eyes that constantly turned this way and that, studying the patrons below. The light came from small floating flames, and a closed gray eye rested on the far wall. above an altar of filth and the priest's waiting podium. Where I might have expected a cross below that great eye, instead there be a tremendous heart. The church was alive.

Too scared yet to make my move with the napalm, I found my mom and sat next to her. I'm glad you came. She told me, giving a genuine smile for the first time since I'd come back. Oh, I hope they don't discard your flesh. You're a smart boy with great potential. I've told everyone that a hundred times. Skin crawling has the wetness on the bone pew worked its way through my jeans, I said, Um, thanks, Mom, I guess. Her eyes let up.

Shh, it's time. The priest stood starkly for a moment inside the doors, which closed like a jaw behind him. Then, moving forward, he held both the eyes of the congregation and the eyes of the walls. I watched, heart pounding as he ascended to the podium and. said, We have a new member today. Nathan, approach. Smiles and cheers arose as I stood and began carefully stepping along the intestinal lining that formed the center aisle. I stood at the front and the priest approached. Looking back, I saw my entire adult community present. They were all there and all exuberant for me to

join. And up on the balcony overhead, I saw a choir of missing children. Madison stood among them, her eyes wet from tears, but her mouth opened to join in their horrific song. She wasn't dead. Part of me was relieved. The priest was talking, but I'd taken too long. A small sliver of light appeared from behind me, and I knew then that the great eye was opening. That leathery hemisphere of flesh was parting.

I turned to face it, and the light reached my face. To say that I screamed then would be an understatement. Every single neuron in my mind flared with the truth, and I could suddenly feel my soul. I had one. It was real, and it was screaming with every fiber of its existence. While my mind burned and my soul screamed, every cell in my body rejoiced. This was from whence they had come, these trillion little animals that formed every tissue and internal liquid, and like recognized like.

If heaven was a place of spirit, hell was a place of flesh. and humans were the unlucky minds caught between. The pull began to rip me apart. But the imagery of my sister sleeping on that hard gymnasium floor, hungry and scared, blocked out the pain. I'd seen her as a baby, seen her take her first step. We fought at times and been friends of others. When my father had died, it'd been up to me to fill the role for her,

and I felt I'd failed that by going away to college. But the independence I'd found that, there was just the sliver I needed. I pulled out the bottle of napalm and hurled at the gray eye above. The entire church trembled from its very foundation as the eyes shrieked an earthquake and closed in response to the shards of glass and a man-made form of fire. I pulled another and threw it at the heart below. Flames boiled up, bringing a wave of horrific stench. The priest reached for me, but I ran with eyes streaming along various organs, throwing napalm this way and that. The congregation reached for me, but I kicked and punched and bit against their weight and did my best

to hurl the bottles away from them. The jaw-like front doors opened reflexively in pain, and I paused on the other side to throw my last night-palm up into the glands above. The crowd followed me, yelling and shouting, but more to throw their flaming clothes on the ground rather than chase me. Looking back, I saw the priest standing stalk still beneath the boiling gray eye, now in ruins. That red hood slowly lifted under a bloody, boned hand, and it revealed its familiar face to me. You should have joined us. It whispered with the voice of my father. You could have had him with you again, but now, never, foolish child.

Under the noon sun obscured by a towering pillar of smoke, I fell to my knees, crying for more reasons than I could process. Could it really have given us our father back? I would never know. Men and women tumbled around me, on fire from my actions. Had I lost my mind? Had all this been a delusion? Had I thrown napalm on innocent men and women? I stumbled away from the ghastly deflating pile of organs that had once been a church

as it burned and smoked like seared meat, and I did not stop running or crying until I reached my home. This time, the car turned on, and the music on the radio revealed the rest of the world was connected to us. Driving frantically towards the school, I crashed right through the chain-link fence and yelled. Claire, it's time to go. Marcus appeared first, practically dragging her. The other students were slower, and after Marcus pushed Claire into the car, I pulled away.

I was too panicked to wait. Go! Marcus shouted. Now! We'll send someone back for the others. The best way out of town was past the burning church, and I wanted my mother to take the fourth seat in the car. terrified, but pulling up to the spot I'd first stopped at upon my return, I watched the crowd there looking at each other in confusion.

The adults seemed to have no idea what was happening. Is Mom there? Claire asked, staring out the window. I turned to Marcus. Keep the car on. He nodded and climbed into the front seat, and I dashed out towards the burning monster that had now stopped shrieking and grown quiet. Nathan?

My mom asked as I pushed through and approached her. Nathan, oh Lord, Nathan, you're safe. Yeah. On guard, I studied the confused faces all around. Mom, you need to come with me right now. Oh, I can't leave. Look. Past her, the crowd had begun gathering around the fly-dominated dumpster.

It's not the best quality. Obviously, since it was discarded. But it'll have to do. She moved off to join the thickening circle. I stared in horror as grown men and women began cutting off limbs with sharp fragments of the old church. The flesh from these limbs curled away and their bones began germinating into the white foundation of a new church. Their blood began hardening and spiraling up into small, delicate spirals at the top, and teeth being freshly pulled started growing into a new door.

I backed away slowly. Their truth still burned in me, but it was not my truth. Once I climbed back into the car with the haunted look, Marcus asked. Did you find her? Claire watched me with fear and hope. I could only shake my head. She's gone. That's not our mother anymore.

Just go. He nodded and shifted the car into drive. Down the road, the crimson mist was gone, at least for now. For the next hour we drove in silence, and I saw Marcus hold my sister's hand at times. We would find someone. Together we would convince someone. The police, the military, it doesn't matter. Someone had to be told.

We just had to reach the internet and spread the word. Knowledge and independence, right? We had that. We would win. Someone would come back here and torch that abomination to the ground. Claire and Marcus still have that hope now that we've reached a big city, but I no longer do. I've seen their truth. I've seen the awful inversion.

seen the reality of it, and worse, I've been looking to the sides rather than ahead like the two of them. I didn't say anything, but we passed three small towns on the way, and each one of them had crimson spires rising above the treetops in the distance, like the bottom half of a jagged and grinning mouth.