The End of Days, Part 9

I hunch over in an attempt to keep warm. I’m sure they keep the building uncomfortably cool on purpose, being naked certainly isn’t helping my efforts. My hands are prevented from moving too much by shackles chained to the grey metal table in front of me. The sturdy metal chair I’m strapped to only makes the cold worse.

“Did you know that tomorrow makes it three years since our lord returned?” an older man with receding grey hair and a thick mustache says. I look up at him. He is heavy, with a plump face and potbelly that is visible even under his voluminous robes.

“Three years.” He repeats, folding his hands and resting them on his gut. Members of the ‘True and Holy Church’ are always well fed, even as those who refuse to join waste away from hunger. The time doesn’t make sense to me. It’s hard to believe that three years could pass so quickly but at the same time it’s hard to believe it was only three years ago that I was happily living an ordinary life with my wife and children, going to work and having fun and eating enough every day.

Brother Luke sighs and leans forward. “David, why do you resist?” he says as he places his still-folded hands on the table. “For three years our lord has spoke his teaching to the world, we’ve seen the fruit it bears in those who obey it, and we’ve all witnessed his signs and wonder. But you still don’t believe in him.”

I shake my head slowly. I glance up at the older man, my eyes drawn to the three golden Hebrew letters painted on his forehead before quickly looking back down to the table. The sight of those symbols always filled me with disgust.

“You were a Christian before, weren’t you? You believed in the lord as best you could and before he came back that was good enough. Now he’s here once again to put away all of the misteachings and falsehoods and faulty opinions that people have put into the gospel over the centuries.”

I say nothing, my face is blank and emotionless. For three years I endured having everything and everyone taken from me, did he really think that a couple of days of sitting naked in a cold prison and hearing the same message I’ve heard countless times would get me to recant now?

“You’re running out of time, you know.” Brother Luke says quietly. “You have until tomorrow. At dawn, everyone here will be given the choice. Abandon their rebellious ways and submit to our lord, who have been far more patient with us than we deserve, or die.”

I smile gently and lock eyes with the older man. “I lost my job, my home, my wife, my children, and my friends because of your lord.” I say. I sit up straighter, now oblivious to the cold. “I’ve spent two years living in squalor, even homeless, because of your lord. I’ve gone cold and hungry for so long I don’t even remember what it’s like to be warm and fed. I’ve been spat on and kicked by your lord’s followers. We were nowhere near you people, just trying to scrape by, and you drag us here, strip us naked, and cram us into a jail cell.” My eyes narrow as I focus my gaze on Brother Luke. He seems unphased by my words. I suspect he’s done this with many before me. “After all that, you think I’ll roll over for your lord? No, I choose death. Then I’ll see my lord.”

Brother Luke sighs again and shakes his head gently. He looks at me with eyes full of pity. “It sounds like you’ve had an interesting life these past few years.” He says. I say nothing.

“Why don’t you tell me about it?” he continues.

“Why? I’m not going to convert. My mind is made up.”

“Call it curiosity. I’m genuinely interested in what happened to you.”

“Shouldn’t you try your luck with one of the other prisoners instead of wasting your time with a lost cause like me?”

Brother Luke chuckles. “David, the Church has many eager to do our lord’s will. Each heretic has their own evangelist assigned to them. We will be with you all day today, trying one last time to save you.” He reaches over and pats my hand. I frown.

“Do you know what the name ‘Luke’ means?” he asks, withdrawing his hand. “It means ‘light-giving. I was given this name because my lord has given me the task of bringing his light to those in the darkness. Some of my brothers get a little, shall we say, overzealous in their efforts.”

I snort in response. “You mean they torture non-believers.”

“Perhaps. Better to enter life with one eye and one hand than to enter death with your whole body. Our lord has permitted us to use any means necessary to win the souls of the perishing. But just because we are permitted to use those methods doesn’t mean we have to. I believe I can shine the light of God to you, but it’s up to you to open your eyes to see it.”

“Then I guess I’ll die blind.” I say quietly.

“I suppose you shall.” Brother Luke says, leaning back and rubbing his chin. “Tell me what happened until now. Tell me what you saw and did since our lord returned.”

“Why? It won’t change anything.”

“It’ll pass the time.” He responds with a chuckle, his great belly bouncing up and down. “Besides, I’m a people person. I like knowing about people’s past, what makes them tick.” He leans forward again and smiles. “Plus, maybe you’ll show me the error of my ways and win me over.” He says with a wink.

I turn my eyes to the table. So much had happened in the past three years, I could easily fill the day recounting my experiences since the antichrist appeared and turned the world upside down. I glance around the room. No windows, no clock, no way to tell what time it is. It was dark when I was woken by the prison guards and dragged into this tiny interrogation room so I have no way of knowing how long I could be stuck here, freezing. Maybe I should tell him what I’ve been through.