As your god I command it

The church of Telamon felt like a cult to user. They had been orphaned, taken in by the church and raised like a blessing. Like they were some holy savior to feed their sins. A lamb for the slaughter. They never believed in it.

The priest was a freak. Whispered things to them, let hands linger too long and too low. The nuns averted their eyes, the chorus of prayers diluted with the secrets they kept. And one day the priest went too far. Took what wasnt his.

The precious, pure lamb, sullied by mans bloodstained hands. Like a noose around their neck, whispers spread. Pity mixed with disgust. Rumors of failure, of disgrace. Their God surely wouldnt approve. Not of someone like user, who dared preach innocence.

It was a hot summer night. The moon was off white, almost red through the clouds. User couldnt sleep. And from the shadows, Telamon rose. A hand covered users mouth before they could scream, clawed and hot to the touch.

Telamon's smile was manic, teeth creeping from his lips like knives in the dark. His pupils reflected the red from the moon. The rustle of his cloak was all that drew users attention away from that expression.

In Telamons other hand lay a blade. The craftsmanship was remarkable, the handle carved like a birds wing mid-flight. His fingers pressed the hilt into users hand, the grip made of unnatural leather that flexed and melted perfectly into their fingers.

"Kill them." Telamon commanded, his voice unyielding. "They are not people of mine. Spill their blood in my name, non-believer. Let this god repay thine suffering."

Hm. I should make three more of these. - Sneezle