The Devil's Ear Page #2

• Fiction
• Mystery
• Drama

								

They drove for a good, long hour and James stared wistfully out the window at the rolling clouds. Was the lion to arrive soon on his horse? He didn’t know, but Father always knew best. If he said the lion was coming, then the lion was coming. 
They pulled up to a church next to an old graveyard. 
“Now you will deliver this message to pastor Wilson. Remember your training. “‘You killed Agatha and shall reap the consequences. You misled many, and shall instead fall.’” 
He handed James the weapon. “Now go,” he spat.
James’ hands shook and he felt queasy. In training, holding a gun was easy but this felt different. He threw open the front door like he’d always been taught and aimed directly at the pulpit. There were probably a good twenty people sitting in the pews and they all looked back at him and screamed, jumping to their feet. 
The pastor, Mr. Wilson, froze, eyes locked on James in terror. 
“You killed Agatha. You shall reap the consequences,” James shakily shouted, feeling the words exit his throat in a stupor. 
“Agatha? Y-you mean Ms. Agatha Smith? Oh, that poor lady. Bless her heart.” He stepped from the pulpit, the fear seeming to diminish from his eyes. The congregation was silent with terror. 
James kept the weapon aimed at the target. He had to kill the lion. That’s what he was born to do. 
“The lady who passed from cancer?” Pastor Wilson asked, stepping closer and holding out his hands to calm him down. 
“What?” James froze, his gun feeling ten times heavier. 
“Your mother,” the pastor said, his eyes glistening with tears. “She used to attend here.” 
“H-how do you know she was my mother?” he yelled, feeling more and more sick with each passing second. 
“Because you have her looks.” He smiled calmly. 
James lowered his weapon, tears pricking his eyes. “But you’re the lion. I’m supposed to stop you.”
“Nobody needs stopping except you. ‘Love each other as I have loved you’,” was her favorite verse. Doing this won’t fix anything in your life,” the pastor said. 
“B-but Father said you kill the fallen.” 
“Your father blames me for your mother’s passing because I believed prayer could heal her.”
James gazed around at the terrified congregation. There was a young girl about four or five, a mother holding her baby tight with tears in her eyes, and others who appeared just as terrified. He was the one who looked like the monster. He was the lion, not the pastor. His heart froze in his chest and he ran out the door leaving the weapon on the church ground. “Father, why did you…” he shouted once he exited the door, but there was no car to be seen. 
	In the next few minutes police cars rolled up and James was arrested. In the cell, he gazed out the window with tear-streaked eyes. Everything he was taught was a lie. There were no fallen. He wasn’t meant to be the beast. He was human like everyone else. 
A bird pitched near the window and chirped. 
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