GOLGOTHA - 6: CATCH YOUR BREATHS
a siege story. in the church.
Dumas finishes his sweep through the church. All good. Surprisingly. Kelly is sitting on a pue. Warda has the sword back in her skull sigil on her hand. Shez in gnosis but calming down now. Lack of action is weighing on her. That fierce warrior spirit she has is like a burning tornado. In her chest. It unravels her and rebraces her too… her armor.
He clicks Anubis closed, spins the chamber one last time like a gambler praying for silence.
“All good,” he mutters. But the way he says it? Don’t sound like he means it.
Kelly on the pew…
She ain’t praying. She’s just… sitting. Like she might. Like she used to. Shotgun resting across her knees like a sleeping dog.
“You believe in God?” she asks the room. No one answers. But the stained glass creaks like it wants to. “I think God brought us all together maybe… for like a real important purpose maybe.” She says to them all.
Dumas looks like fuck should I say. He goes, “Sure darling. I believe you.” And goes for another sweep of the church. Niggah just don’t want to put his damn gun away. He lookin’ for some shit to fucking shoot at. Still not enough action for the wolf man of the wasteland. He builts for shit like this this ain’t no Alamo. This just the next level of the video game they live in. Scooby Doo lookin’ for the Cyberchase niggah. In the neon static… across the shadows, in the ashes.
Petra lights a cigarette like clockwork. That ghost girl fucking with her now. She keeps thinking about that curse, “Badblood might get you.” She is tripping but trying her best to pretend she iznt fucking tripping.
Then out of nowhere her eyes are captured in a mirror reflection of herself. Pale white skin, and sharp menacing fangs. The girl in the mirror iznt the one she remembers… is that really me?
“Hey, Petra,” Dumas finally says. “You sure you’re not seeing double?”
“Why?” she asks, expecting a dumb joke. Should I laugh… she thinks first, but still in her own reflection. The illusion breaking down. Oh shit. I’m a vampire bitch.
“Cause I think there’s a version of you standing behind the altar… and she’s smiling like a fuckin’ shark.” Dumas grins but he’s scared as shit. He raises his pistol and has it aimed at Petra Lovecraft’s phantom specter. They can all see her. Her eyes glow green in evil.
“Euronymos.” Warda declares to lightning and thunder in a controlled fist. The black flames easily materialize into the necrosword. Now she’s holding it. Both hands on the handle. Tensed. For combat. She’s desperate for it… for some fucking action, and not any more of this fucking character emotion arc bullshit. Let the fucking monsters fly from the abyss.
I agree. Dumas tells the most unreliable narrator since King James wrote the bible. Itz like Constantine, all over again.
Too bad… emotional beat, is not over yet…
“Shit.” Dumas spits but keeps the trigger tensed pointing it, at Petra. The shadow of her old self. Petra Lovecraft.
“Badblood. Badblood. Baby in a cradle. Badblood. Badblood. tell another fable.” She says then turns into static. Vanishing in the neon haze. Blending into the ink in the pulp. Like darkness… the noir element.
GOLGOTHA - 7: THE BLACK ROSE
Dumas is now seated in a pew. Petra is lying down on the one behind him like itz a real coffin. Kelly is reading a bible she found. The last one left. Warda is practically climbing the walls. If she duznt get to cut something soon… she may have to go touch herself instead. To release the tension. Itz too much ache.
Inside the church. Shit gets… more, weird. Next on Golgotha… tune in. Don’t touch that dial.