SOUP CHILD PT FIVE
Deacon John had killed the Alchemists daughter and had taken over the village as boss. He loved to put fear into his fellow men. Every Sunday he would read one of his specialy written sermons to them to make them feel like mud.
'Today my fine peasents I shall tell you of your fate in the after life, When you die where do you go? To God is the answer. God inherits us all. He can do what he likes with us. It all depends how you have behaved in this life time. If you've been naughty I would'nt like to guess. If you've been humble, loved the church, given every thing you have to it, he could be OK. The thing you cretins have got to realise is that I, your Deacon am a direct line to God. If you give me your food, money, daughters and land I'll make sure God will see you alright. Now you can't get fairer than that. But if you rebuke me...then horrors. Let's go into detail about those horrors. God can be charming. But he's a sod when it comes to sinners. He gets them. Strips them naked and gets these well hung black demons to fuck them solid for the rest of eturnity.Now that may sound ok for you girls. But for you boys - oh boy. Remember God is a hard bastard who's a bit soft when it comes to piety. So give me power to rule over you. And you wont have to worry about any of this stuff. Now get on your knees and pray like fuck.'
After his church service Deacon John rubbed hia hands and smiled wickedly.Then he retired to his private chambers where Grossit his trusty verger awaited him with Mildew the miller's daughter. How frightend she looked. Her father had sent her to Decon John for chasity training. Under duress the miller had done this. For the wicked Deacon threatened to confiscate his mill and home. Leaving the poor man and his family destitute.
Deacon John signaled Grossit to go away. Then he breathed all over the petrified girls face.
'Now then Mildew' he said. 'To be chaste is no mean thing. I have discovered the best way to be chaste is to be sick of sex. The only way to be sick of sex is to have lots of it in one go. You do want to be chasdte don't you.'
'If you say so' wimperd the poor girl.
'Then of with your frock and get into a comfortable position on that bed.'
'How long must I endure this mastication of my body?' she asked.
'Who can tell. I shall make love to you slowly at first. Then I shall speed up a fraction at a time.'
'My dinners at six.'
'You wont be hungry after I've finished with you. Now watch carefuly as I slam my guts into your flimsy navel.'
'Ugh you are waighty Deacon John.'
'Love it. Its all you have now.'
What a cad Deacon John was. He made poor Mildew swet and moan with out mercy. He did'nt even offer her a glass of oringe juice between grunts.
'You love it don't you wench' snorted the holy man behind the millers daughter ears.
'that's one opinion. I for one have a different out look.'
'Such as?'
'I wish I was back home knitting.'
'You peasent girls lack spunk. But I'll change that.'
'Oh no. Not again please.'
'Urgh ahhh...like it?'
'No.'
'Hmmm more presure is needed.'
'Oh mum.'
From the floor came voices. "Waaayyy, waaayyy" they went. Deacon John stoped his press ups and listerned. "Waaayyy, waayy."
His face became anoyed as he cried out for his verger. 'Grossit what is that awful noise coming from below?'
'It is the followers of the Alchemist you have imprisoned in the dungen. I fear they can here you fucking and thus are taking the piss out of you oh holy one.'
'So they dare to jibe at my administrations eh? I'll teach them.'
Deacon John jumped off Mildew and down the dark stone steps to the dungen he went. There, behind iron bars, chained to the walls dripping with fungi and shit were the wretched followers of the Alchemist. Men, women and children. How dirty and amancipated they looked. Clothes in rags and hair all knotted. Flys buzzed around their heads.
'So you jeer at my quest in sanctifying and making pure the women folk of this village. I, who save them from the perils of lust' said Deacon John with a scowl.
'Bollocks' blurted a three year old girl.
Deacon John shook with rage at hearing this word eliquently blasted, like a belch in an empty ware house.
'How dare that child speak to me in such a way. I am Gods hot line to mankind. I am here to bring salvation and happyness to the humble. I am a holy saint.'
'Double bollocks' said the girl with a fart.
'My daughters right' said one man. 'You are no friend of the people. You scare them shitless. Force them to give their lives to you and what scraps are left they chew in misery.'
'Silence sinner' Deacon John said with hot molten laver in his voice. 'You are evil people. Hoe can you critisize me? Witches and worshipers of demons the lot of you.'
'And what are you?' asked the man. 'You take everything. Defile the women folk. Make incaperble the men. You reduce their soul and love for life. And you have the cheek to preach the words of God.'
'Silence, silence' shouted the Deacon, his head turning into a beetroot.
'Grossit, torture them all. Then we'll see if you have such brave words.'
'You can torture us, oh Deacon. But one day our leader will come to release us all. And we will put an end to the likes of you.'
'Ha your alchemist guru has forsaken you all. His spiret has been crushed by my killing of his daughter. He would never dare to pitch battle with me. For he knows his power is false and werthless. Like everything you lot beleave in is false and worthless.'
'Bollocks' said the three year old girl.
Sexton Ming