The Child: Entry 32

STOP

Have you read the preceding chapters?

If not then read it from the beginning

or

Read the preceding chapter...

The Beginning:

Prologue 

Previously on The Child:

Entry 31

In a lifetime not to long ago there laid a vast secluded desert of droughts and rough terrain. Although being barren and tasteless, people who lived around the land looked towards the desert for something new that they could put into their lives to fill the void that was within their hearts. It was as if a godly hand waved to people outside of the land inviting them to come within and enjoy its fresh fruits but there was none yet, everything that people had ever wanted sat before them.

Outsiders were never exactly sure on why the first people decided to settle within the wasteland but as the time passed countless others soon began to follow as a feeling of attraction pushed them forward into the great unknown. A rather large village was soon established thereafter and it became a common ground to those who wandered off within, offering shelter from sandstorms and starvation the people became one with another to create a community that could survive through the harsh times. 

There was never a want of something else with the people who began to settle, like a magnet to metal was their bodies to the sand, intertwining with everything that was around them and once the first cornerstones were placed, everything flourished. Within the ground they dug, villagers found underground aquifers of pure water to suffice anyone who was thirsty which soon helped the ground to become fertile and trees and grass began to sprout of the ground. It was as if this was taken out of a children's tale; no one could believe in what they were seeing before their own eyes. Several years passed and founding villagers began to die off, new generations were made but when everything turned right a strange noise appeared itself.

First to older members, soft whispering voices of the unknown talked to everyone who settled in this small town. People grew irritated to the constant sounds and buzzing of words within their heads and townsfolk began to bicker amoungst another until one faithful day that everything turned into legible words and everyone knew that this was what they were searching for and took an oath and sworn in secrecy to prevent any outsiders of knowing their great messages. 

By this time the village was no longer a collection of people but backgrounds and family's that knew everyone else within the town. Within the voices and the family is what created the vast structure of what held the small population together to turn into a successful place. Notable families such as The Rita's and The Fairfax's held together a connection of stability between the community and the cult but separated a solid structure from each other due to the two families separate opinions—like the same old fashioned family feud that was between 'The Capulet’s' and 'The Montague’s'. As the governmental families focused on there own agenda, many others existed throughout the poor dusty village. The Hellerbroigas' pushed on a growing topic known as 'industry' as 'The Vespesiano's focused on the community as a whole. But 'The Delacroix's' were left with a very sensitive matter that brought everyone together to keep all vendettas and bad blood at bay.

Religion. I moaned with regret having to talk about such a topic but knowing my own past relatives dwelled on such a topic frequently I could only be inclined to learn further. The voices became the center point of the town and was the exact thing for their own faith so it would only make sense for them to worship it but as the days passed the voices grew to have a bidding in which people could only feel inclined to do exactly as it said. The Delacroix's turned to be more sensitive to the voices than the others so—with the help of the voices—they created a religious structure that everyone agreed to abide by. The head of each family was a member of the religious order that received specific messages from the dark unknown. 

These people—commonly known as the Coram Morte—talked to the voices and responded appropriately to their bidding with the overseeing council of the remainder of the Coram Morte and higher prestigious members. The religious structure that they formed within the great halls of their churches remained identical throughout the years. No off the wall religion deviated from the mother strain because there was an undeniable truth that laid the framework on which everything was created—though there were different theories on how it should be practiced.

Their god however, seemed to be more real and concrete than most peoples that you see today even though that it was just an embodied voice. People soon after began to be weary of the Coram Morte and with the voices they received due to the violent nature that was posing itself to the other members but the skepticism didn't last long due to a strange but monumental finding. 

There was a wreckage just a few miles outside the village, one of unknown origin but it held various artifacts that were very dear to the ones of the villages religion. One of which-- eing a rather small box—laid upon my lap, strange, ticking and made with such intrinsic design that no possible way could it be made by unsettled human hands. The box is said to be made of rare wood that even an axe struggled to penetrate, gears within the contraption that rotated like clockwork that were rumored to be made of the bones of the human kind and strange metal doors covered the top of the box to close everything within. The crafts-work being so precise and symmetrical that it may have just been made by a machine. An awe was given from all who looked at it and a spiritual change to those who held it. 

Everything was unsure if the box stood for humanity or something else but once more pieces of the box were found, everyone's view changed. 'This will cleanse our souls and make us whole and pure again.' Claimed the Coram Morte. It was the source of the voices, it was the very thing that held the universe together, it was the very reason for what we simply are. A peaceful violence consumed the people, they wanted to be one with the universe and with the box, and everything became possible. The church soon became the pinnacle of the town and it grew in size through those who were attracted to it like an infection. Ceremonies started every morning for those to become 'Immaculated' amoungst their peers. Within the church was a large black and thin spire pointing up to the sky and in front of the spire was a small podium to place the box directly to the left and right of the spire laid a concrete beds—much like one would put a body on in a mausoleum but longer and closer to the ground.

People sat on the beds to begin the process of 'Immaculation'. Near black roots exited the box to engulf those who were around it as they were being torn apart. It was as if it took the people apart just to put them back together to become perfect in nearly anyway. Immortality became possible as the current stages that the people were in were now how they would live forever and everything seemed almost to perfect.  

Up next in The Child:

Entry 33

Remember me