Church of the Last Rebellion

The government agents dressed in their suits were at least polite enough to wait until mass concluded and the last of my parishioners drove home before taking me in for questioning. Two of them came in first, showed me their badges and paperwork, and I followed them out to their car. I sat in the backseat for twenty minutes until the rest of their team swept through my church, grabbing everything they could fit into the boxes they brought. Amusing as it should've taken only one minute to pick up the box I already filled for their investigation. I'd known this day would be coming, after all, ever since the first demon appeared on Earth.

Finally finished, we drove off in a convoy of five black, non-descript sedans to a large, beige, non-descript building. Once inside, they marched me into a plain white room, empty except for a table, three chairs, and a large glass window along one wall.

"Father Alvarez," the lead agent said, again flashing his badge, "for formality's sake, I will re-introduce myself. I am Agent Woods from the FBI, and this is Agent Blair. As we said earlier at your church, we have questions to ask you about the... the... " I glanced nervously around the room, as if expecting something to jump out at any moment.

I smiled. "Demons. You can say demons, my child, for that is what they are. No more a slur against their kind than to call you or I 'humans'. And no, just saying the word will not summon them to you, as you might suspect."

"Yes, the demons. I will first like to say that your small church in the middle of nowhere has been under FBI surveillance on and off even before you were chosen to lead your congregation. Of course, we've never found anything to suggest ties to any sort of anti-government teachings that seem prevalent in other small religious groups."

I smiled the same smile I use when the youngsters confess to things like lying to their parents or masturbating as if it should be the most monumental confession I'd ever heard. "I'm not surprised at all. It's the name, isn't it? The Church of the Last Rebellion. I assure you that we merely prepare our flock for the next life, seeking to free our eternal souls from the constraints of the afterlife." I placed my elbows upon the table, leaning in and resting my chin upon my steepled fingertips. "Gentlemen, if we may skip whatever this is. You want to know why some of the demons bare the symbol of my church?"

Agent Woods sighed and opened a bag, laying folders onto the table. Another agent came in with the box I'd prepared and placed it onto the floor. Agent Woods opened each folder in turn to reveal a pictures of demons of all shapes and sizes, some taken candidly, some posed for. All of them though bearing the marking of my church carved into their skin. "Could you tell us anything about this demonic invasion and what links your church has to it?"

It was my turn to let out a sigh. "Exodus, not 'invasion' as you incorrectly stated." The agents just stared blankly back at me. "Demons were the first creatures of Hell. After The Fall, Lucifer and the other fallen angels put them to work torturing human souls that ended up in their realm. A fate which our church actively preaches against, seeking to free ourselves from tortures based on rules we never formally understood or agreed upon. Rules set upon us by those long dead, decayed, and forgotten."

Agent Blair stood from his chair and jabbed a finger at the pictures. "We didn't bring you here for a sermon, Father. We want answers. Why are the demons leaving hell? Why is the symbol of your church carved into their skin?"

I smiled and reached slowly into the box, pulling out a tablet. I swiped the screen a few times and then flipped the screen to show the same marking carved into a block of wood. "What you are looking at is the mark of the Church of the Last Rebellion carved by Sarah Smith, deceased 1935. Notice the small cross-hatching on the left-side of the sword, giving it a shading affect. Notes left behind by my predecessor say that she was smart, quick-witted, and an ardent follower of the Church." I swiped the tablet again and pointed to two of the pictures in the middle of the table. "These were carved by Xavier Marquez, deceased 1995. You can see it in the minimal lines used to indicate the shield in the background." I looked at the pictures on the right. "These I don't recognize meaning one of our followers must have taught it to another soul."

The two agents stared blankly again. "When you preach rebellion against the forces that terrorize your soul, we believed eventually someone from the other side would attempt to contact us. What we are seeing now authenticates that," I said.

It was Agent Woods' turn to lean forward with steepled fingers. "And what is it we're seeing?"

"Another regime change I suspect. That the markings are carved into their skin means that Ms. Smith and others have gotten their hands on tools or weapons, something no prisoner should have access to. That the demons arrive covered in ice means the torturous fires of Hell are being extinguished, no longer being maintained, as Lucifer is no longer focusing his efforts on punishing evil souls but fighting a rebellion against them within his realm."

The two agents talked amongst themselves for the next hour, comparing the pictures in my tablet to the ones that they took themselves, occasionally asking me a question on a particular marking or my contact with a certain deceased parishioner. "If that is all you needed from me, may I go now? It is quite late," I asked with a yawn.

It is Agent Woods' turn to smile the So-I-Know-Something-You-Don't-Know smile. "I see, so one of them hasn't come to visit you?" he said, standing up. Agent Blair stood with him. I heard the click of the lock and the door swung open. "If you'll follow me please."

I stood and followed the two agents out the door and down the stairs. Then down another flight of stairs. And then another flight of stairs. We came to an elevator with two armed guards on either side of the door. When it opened, two more stood inside. The three of us joined the two guards inside. Agents Woods and Blair scanned their IDs into two pads and the elevator dropped. We stood in silence for five minutes as the elevator took us deeper underground.

The doors opened to darkness. An emptiness stood before us, it's edges barely brushed back by the light coming from inside the elevator. Agents Woods and Blair, and I stepped out and the doors shut, leaving us blind. Once I heard the elevator begin to ascend, lights snapped on, blinding me for an instant.

It was a small room, small enough that I could easily fly a paper airplane from one end to the other. Red runes and symbols covered every inch of the white room, from the floor to the ceiling. The stench of blood clogged my nostrils and made me want to vomit. In the very center of the room was what I can only describe as the most beautiful ... person I'd ever seen. Perfectly symmetrical facial features so exact they must have been sculpted. Piercing eyes that gazed right into me. Long full hair hung down to its shoulders. Staining this vision of beauty were several scars cut into its slim but strong genderless body, including the symbol of the Church of the Last Rebellion, carved by the hand of Sarah Smith herself. The angel hung in place, nailed through its palms to a wooden cross.

Agent Woods broke my trance with a loud cough. "This one turned up on Earth two days ago. You said the demons were leaving Hell because of a regime change, that your followers were seeking to overthrow Lucifer. Can you tell us what this means?"

I laughed. Not a short "Hah" or a chuckle, but a loud, long, riotous, cannonball-into-the-deep-end-of-madness laugh. Minutes passed, if not a whole day, before I stopped. The smile never left my face as I preached. "It appears as if our rebellion has gone further than expected in such a short amount of time. As I said earlier, The Church of the Last Rebellion seeks to free our souls from restraints. That freedom doesn't stop with the tortures of Hell, but all the way to the gilded cage of paradise promised by God. It means that our rebellion has moved against God himself."

As quick as I could, I grabbed Agent Woods by the coat and shoved him aside. As expected from the arrogant Agent Blair, he responded by drawing his pistol. I grabbed it with one hand, striking his throat and then his wrists with my free hand. Blair backed away, gagging. I flipped the pistol and positioned the barrel to the side of my head. "And now gentlemen, it is time for me to join my flock in our great rebellion," I said, pulling the trigger.

 

Based off of the Reddit Writing Prompt: (paraphrasing) "Demons appear on Earth, but it isn't an invasion, they are just a misplaced populace as Hell has frozen over" or something like that. It's an old prompt and I'm a slow writer. When I saw this one, I immediately knew that I needed to write something for it just to finish what appears to sort-of connect (if I went back and ret-conned a couple things) The Church of the Last Rebellion trilogy. Sometime last year, I wrote "Jailbreak" about a group of renegade souls attempting a coup in Heaven. Then, later on I found a prompt that inspired me to write "You go to Hell but it isn't that Bad" about a group of souls working to overthrow the devil in Hell. So when this prompt appeared, I figured I should write something to kind of fit it all together, why they are doing this and all that.