Information
Kaser
Legacy Name: Kaser
The
Angelic KumosOwner:
AquariusAge: 6 years, 5 days
Born: April 14th, 2018
Adopted: 6 years, 5 days ago
Adopted: April 14th, 2018
Statistics
- Level: 88
- Strength: 221
- Defense: 220
- Speed: 219
- Health: 220
- HP: 215/220
- Intelligence: 353
- Books Read: 351
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Certified Mad Scientist
Faith is the illusion of perfection, purity & righteousness
Story
The sound of voices harmonizing in the student center courtyard were almost silenced by the thick-paned windows of the library but occasionally, Kaser could make out their voices singing a passionate psalm to all students passing by. It was a lighthearted, sweet reminder of the Lord and His presence in everyday life but while most on campus found it to be relaxing, all Kaser could hear was the haunting sound of noise distracting him from his homework. Illegible notes were scribbled in the margins and across the sheet but the thick black answer lines, neatly printed in a row all down the page, remained blank and unfinished.
There was little chance he was going to finish tonight.
There was little chance he was going to finish tonight.
continue... hide 'Focus.' He urged himself, flipping the page in his book to the next. It wasn't open heart surgery, just Anatomy and Physiology and a class he couldn't risk failing or else. Just around the corner Kaser had tucked himself away in, a cough roared from someone's throat. Followed by another. And another. And they weren't the sort of coughs that one might try to conceal with a turn of the head or by resting their mouth against their shoulder; the coughs were so loud that they caused everyone around him, even those passed out over their books, to jump in fear.
Each time they coughed, Kaser's eyes darted to the top of the page to start over yet again but the words refused to stick. He needed silence to help the knowledge flow but that looked increasingly unlikely as more students filed in, each looking more sleep deprived and miserable than the last. They swooped around the library as though they were a hawk searching for prey and when a chair became vacant, they would all close in at once. And, when met with their competition, all of them would take a step back immediately and begin to apologize, insisting that one another took the seat; such was the mark of 'Pure Living' after all.
Selflessness was Godliness - a trait of the pure and devout.
But now that Kaser was really watching, he realized how utterly ridiculous it all was. Even when entire tables opened up, they insisted that the other person take it but would admit defeat at the urge of the others. They refused to compromise; sharing the table with one another seemed the simplest plan of all: but they didn't want to share. They wanted it all for themselves; they just didn't want to admit it because that wasn't selfless and therefore, not righteous.
One must always be righteous and courteous of others because this is the way that He envisioned it. Fighting like animals, demons, even, is to live like humans - not like God. But it wasn't selfless, nor was it pure or courteous...it was fake.
All of it was so fake.
It wasn't five minutes later that the first of the massive bells tolled, a pre-warning that sent all of the freshman scattering for the exits as though the Harbingers were going to appear out of thin air and slaughter them where they stood. Kaser knew that regardless of the bells chimes, he had a good hour left and more than enough time to get some real work done now that the distractions had left the building.
The silence was a welcome relief.
Another bell tolled fifteen minutes later and another, fifteen minutes after that until Kaser was the only one that remained in the library. Leisurely, Kaser began to pack up his things one by one into his bag, watching the lights in the far end of the library click off, casting the shelves into the darkness. An older woman walked by Kaser's table and gave a startled jump as he rose. A thin gray eyebrow lifted itself just above her dull, lifeless green eyes, the woman's pale lips shrinking as though she wanted to say something but thought better of it. Kaser gave her a reassuring smile but the woman continued to frown, growing the wrinkles just around the edge of her mouth while picking up the mess left behind by the college students.
"Have a blessed evening." Kaser offered with a smile but the woman just eyed Kaser and heaved a heavy, over exaggerated sigh as though he were the cause of her problems. Books lay out on the tables, chip crumbs ground into the dingy beige and black carpet by careless students and the tables were covered with fresh water rings that the librarian was trying unsuccessfully to remove. There were some things that religion couldn't fix, Kaser had determined. Despite their best attempt, they couldn't erase personality - flaws and all.
The campus itself seemed larger than it was, buildings four to five stories high towering over Kaser, making him feel small and meaningless in comparison. Most of the parking lots had cleared out and the only students that were left were those waiting on their ride or, like Kaser, making their way to the DART station for the last pick-up. It seemed further away than one might think, a few blocks from his school but thanks to the initiatives put into place by their local mayor, the streets were supposedly safer to walk on than they ever had been before. Rumors had a tendency to swirl about armed robberies or the occasional assault that would still happen to the unsuspecting pedestrian but they were nothing more than that: rumors. With the Harbingers on the prowl, the criminals of said crimes would already be dead and their crimes would be shushed by the politicians; it was simply the way things were. By the time he had made it to the West End, the last of the commuter rails was ready to take off and he barely squeaked into the train before the doors had closed. There weren't a lot of people aboard the train: a woman with a thin face, pronounced by her high cheekbones, and her hyperactive child took the seat closest to the doors, a Hispanic man was sitting near the back with his head leaned against the window and a single woman, brunette hair braided into pigtails sat across from the mother and child. Kaser took his seat between the man and the brunette, pulling out his textbook to pour over the pages during the commute. It was only a minute or so into his trip that Kaser realized that there was another man in back, hidden between the seats as he was awoken by his own snores and a hefty bump. As he moved around in his seat to find a more comfortable position, his greasy brown hair stuck to his pale face and the woman pulled her young son closer into herself and attempted to avert her gaze the city scenery.
"Moooom!" The young boy whined, wiping his runny nose onto his arm followed by a sniffle. "Play a game with me! I'm bored!"
"No, Christopher." She hushed him with a single finger. "Mommy's tired. Please, sit down."
But the boy wouldn't have it. He leapt from his seat onto the one behind him, crawling back row by row until he reached the one with the man in the dirty garb. With his pointer finger extended, the boy poked the man in the face and withdrew it immediately to wipe on his shirt, as though a little dirt were anymore disgusting than the snail trail of snot he had just wiped on his arm moments ago.
"TAG, YOU'RE IT!"
The man seemed confused at first until the boy reached out again, touching his shoulder this time as he hollered: "TAG! YOU'RE. IT."
A smile grew on the man's face, darkened yellow teeth appearing amongst an overgrown shrub of a thick black beard. He reached out to touch the boy but the mother, rushed over and snatched him from the chair and into her arms. It was as though she realized how annoying her son was being or, perhaps, she perceived him to be in some sort of danger and decided to try being a parent for the first time in her life.
"Christopher, God frowns on those that don't listen to their parents. Honour thy father and thy mother."
His lip quivered. "H-he...does?"
"Yes, he does. Now, come on. This is our stop." The woman gathered her things and shot a dirty look at the man, as though it was him that had done something wrong before exiting the line with her son in tow. Before the doors closed, Kaser could hear her chastising her son:
"Never speak to people like that, Christopher! They're a plague on society! Remember: The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat."
Kaser looked to the man to see if he heard it but his eyes, blue as the daytime sky, were already focused on something else out the far window.
One by one, people continued to file off of the train until only Kaser and the homeless man remained. He seemed nice, perhaps mentally ill given that he was muttering to himself or even down on his luck but never threatening or hateful. Richardson, a suburb of Dallas, came into view and Kaser knew it would be only minutes until his stop. He piled everything back into his bag and stopped when his fingers brushed against something; his allowance. The line came to a halt and Kaser rose, approaching the man with the measly ten dollars exposed in his outstretched hand.
"Here you go." He said softly to the man, a warm smile on his face. The man looked at the money and then at Kaser who gave him an encouraging nod before the man, following Kaser's own motions, nodded repeatedly. He took the money into his dirty hands, clutching Kaser's for a moment in an act of solidarity.
"Thank you." His voice was gruff and tired, younger than he had imagined but just as gravely.
He wanted to prattle off some Bible quote or mention that he hoped to see him again but Kaser knew he wouldn't; it was dangerous for a transient to be out in public so openly and especially so late. By the end of the week, Kaser was sure the man would be dead.
His stomach muscles tensed at the thought.
He didn't deserve that.
Kaser approached his home as the last rays of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon and darkness set in throughout the quiet suburban neighborhood. Their home was a traditional one story ranch, massive rounded windows surrounded by various shades of red brick leading into an archway that showcased the cross Kaser's father had painted on the front door four summers ago. The lawn was a crisp green, despite the Texas droughts that had caused it to yellow one too many times and it had been clipped, seeded and mowed to lush perfection in the past few weeks. Kaser had told his father that it was hopeless but his father was always ready with a comeback.
"Nothing is impossible with God."
Inside the house, there was the warm glow of too many lamps and the sound of voices and clinking plates coming from the kitchen. In the foyer, at his feet, were various shapes and sizes of shoes, each of them lined up in a perfect row that Kaser added to with his own before heading towards the kitchen. Once inside, he could see his family sitting at the table with their hands laced together and food piled on the table in a gross display of splendor and over-abundance. He thought back to the homeless man and frowned.
"You're late, Kaser." His fathered adjusted his thick, black-rimmed glasses, the lens magnifying his green eyes as if it emphasizes his frustration. He wouldn't yell; he never did but looked like he wanted to. "You can't keep doing this." Kaser's mother pushed a strand of dark brown hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear, a submissive smile appearing on her face as her husband spoke. She gave her husband's hand a light squeeze and he sat back into his chair and sighed.
"Kaser." His mother spoke softly, her voice like a hymn being hummed in church. "What your father means is that you're cutting it too close to curfew. It's..." The word seemed to escape her for a moment or maybe, she was just searching for the right one to use. One that didn't make it sound as though they were hunting down petty criminals to kill each night. "Dangerous to be out so late. Please don't do it again. We wouldn't anything to happen to you."
Though Kaser felt the need to speak up, he knew it was futile (and distasteful) to fight. "I'm sorry, mother." The words had little meaning to Kaser; he knew he'd do it again but there was no reason that his mother had to know that. An empty chair was to the right of his older sister and Kaser took it, sliding it forward towards the table before he felt his sister reach out to him. Clutching her hand with his own, the bowed their heads in ritual and prayed over their meal.
"Kaser, would you like to lead us?" His mother suggested. Kaser gripped his sister's hand a little tighter at the words; he hated leading in prayer. Normally, he would just ramble until the words came together but he had no idea what he was supposed to say.
He had asked once and received a strange look from his mother and father and never asked again.
Regardless, he tried his best.
"Heavenly Father, this food we are about to eat has been given by You to us and we thank You for this bounty. It is our hope that with this food, You send Your blessings and that we live as You wish for us to live: through honesty, purity and love. Lord, we pray that You guide us through the days and keep us through the night and You continue to bless us with these opportunities to join one another as a family that has been blessed by Your grace. Thank You Lord God Above for this food, this family and for Your sacrifice. We praise Your holy name. Amen."
His family must have felt the prayer was suitable, each of them repeating his 'Amen' before they began to dig in to the feast and engaging in mundane, everyday conversation.
"Share with us a piece of good news, Melina." His father recommended to his sister, whose mouth was full of potatoes. Kaser snorted with quiet laughter as she tried to speak but failed and she elbowed him in his ribs, prompting a warning from their mother.
"Now, now."
"I received an A+ on my speech assignment." She boasted proudly, her face beaming. "If I keep it up, I might graduate magna cum laude."
"Or even summa cum laude! Reach for the stars, sweetheart!" His father added in. "What was your speech assignment over?"
Kaser could feel the eye roll coming on.
"The impact that the Lord has had on my life."
And...there it was. But both his mother and father ate it up with a spoon, practically begging for seconds as Melina went on about it, as though a hundred other students hadn't already given the exact same speech.
"And Kaser, what about you?"
"I'm first in my Anatomy and Physiology class." He lied.
Kaser's father let out a hearty 'whoop!' and his mother smiled. "That's great, Kaser."
Dinner was typical, though that was no surprise. Most days felt like they were being lived on repeat though Kaser knew he shouldn't despise the mundane. It should be welcomed; at least he had a life to live. Mundane was good. Mundane was...safe. Dinner was always followed by thirty minutes of 'Family Bible Study' and then some 'Family TV Time' which usually consisted of his father flipping through a hundred channels only to settle on the news each time while the rest of them found their own activities to entertain themselves. Kaser sat on the couch next to his father, Melina beside him trying to sneak a peek at her phone, all while the channels sped by in a flurry of colors. In the kitchen, Kaser's mother worked to clean up and load the dishes into the wash for the night before joining them just in time for a return from commercials.
No one particularly like family time, it was just something they did because they knew they had to. But his father would be asleep by the time the broadcast was over, his mother would knit and nod as though she were listening (though she wasn't) and his sister would be tapping on her phone and Kaser? Kaser's mind was always somewhere else.
Thirty minutes had nearly passed, only minutes left until he could excuse himself to his room when a name dropped in the broadcast that caused Kaser's ears to perk.
"That's right, Shawn. We're here with Commissioner Liam Sounders, the founder and the creative mind behind the Congregation for the Pure of Living. Thank you for being with us today."
Suddenly, a face flashed on the screen and Kaser scowled.
"Mr. Sounders, you created the Congregation for the Pure of Living years ago, despite the fact that there was opposition to your message. Tell us about that."
The man looked paler than the bland white walls behind him, with dark, predatory eyes that followed the reporter as she swayed back and forth. Large, heavy pits beneath his eyes, accented by the deep purple bruising indicated that he was lacking in sleep while set frown lines around his mouth showed what everyone knew too well: the man never smiled. Any attempt at a smile would result in a grin like an animal bearing its teeth. "Well, I created the CPL as a means of fixing where the world was headed. I wanted a reality like the one we now have today: a safe place to grow families and make friends, one that doesn't hinge on being heterogeneous and politically correct. We need sameness to build a relationship with one another, a society that is centered on the Lord and all that He teaches. Those that are - or rather, were - opposed to such a change were living on the fringes of society. These were the ones that didn't fit in and weren't safe for our children to be around. But, with these initiatives and changes...we've made this country a safer place. Mark my words, it won't be long until other countries follow suit in the Lord's plan."
Kaser snorted quietly. As if he knew the first thing about anything the Lord taught.
Behind the eyes, darker than pure black, there was nothing - not even a soul.
"Well, you have certainly achieved a lot. In fact, we've just received a new report that crime is at an all-time low thanks to your program. You've been able to successfully bring our percentages to the brink, I mean, we're talking 0.43%!" The woman genuinely seemed taken by him as he put his put his pale hand over the pit where his heart should be.
"I'm flattered, honestly. But it's not just crime we have to worry about. It's morality too! Immorality is the foundation of crime… we have ways to handling that." Watching the broadcast made Kaser sick to his stomach. He could feel his supper turning over and his muscles twisting into nervous knots. They went through incredible lengths to avoid saying 'kill', 'massacre' or 'brainwash' as Commissioner Sounders prattled on about his programs and how all of it was 'the Lord's work'. Kaser couldn't watch another second.
"May I be excused?" Kaser looked at his mother, who seemed shocked by his abrupt request. "I've...got a big exam to study for. I just want to make sure I do well."
Her shock slowly faded to understanding as she nodded and Kaser trudged up the stairs to his room. The words from the television began to fade into the background with each step that Kaser took up the stairs;
"Do you have any words to those who might not agree with what you're doing, or those that say that it's wrong?"
"Accept the Lord. Accept the Congregation for the Pure of Living. Accept that this is the future - this is the way! We are the answer to a pure life as the immoral will soon come to realize."
The dark chocolate hardwood floors continued upstairs and into Kaser's room, a comfortable area with plenty of space and large window that overlooked the massive cottonwood tree that grew in their front yard. As he walked into his room, Kaser groped the wall looking for the light switching, groaning when only the ceiling fan came on. He tossed his bag onto his chair in the far corner of the room, flipping on the small desk lamp directly in front of it which gave the room a nice, yellow hue and him some light to work. Carefully, he unloaded what he needed from the back and tossed the rest of it onto his bed, directly behind him and only a few feet from his desk. Book open and phone out, Kaser began on his homework yet again, working well into the late hours of the night long after his family had gone to bed.
Leaning his head back against the chair and rubbing his eyes, Kaser pushed himself away from his desk a little too hard causing his chair to go flying. He grasped the edge of the windowsill to put on the brakes, staring outside to the darkened streets. Towering above the street were long silver light poles that were taller than any of the houses in the area, each of them dotting the corners but not a single one lit; perfect for hunting. For a long time, maybe half an hour or more, Kaser watched carefully for signs of movement though the Harbingers were highly trained not to be seen. Even with this knowledge, Kaser couldn't help but watch; he had seen one or two of them slip up before. Occasionally, they might linger too long in one area or turn the lights on in the home, a dead giveaway that the neighbor was getting a visit. He watched for what seemed like forever when he saw something, only the slightest shadow, dart across the lawn four houses down. He couldn't make out a solid figure, no gender or particular shape but there was definitely something there.
When Kaser was just a child, he remembered the first time he had ever 'seen' one.
Kaser's mom swore it was his imagination but he knew better.
"No...Kaser. There aren't monsters out there." she insisted, her brown eyes glittering with all the love in her heart for her youngest child.
But Kaser shook his bedraggled head. "Yes there are, mother! I saw it! It was there!"
"Kaser." She sighed heavily, her shoulders suddenly becoming heavy as though she were carrying bricks. "The things..." She started but then trailed off, unsure of where to go. Kaser cocked his head to the side - what couldn't she say? "The people out there are working. The help keep us safe. It's...hard to explain."
Suddenly, Kaser was wide awake, wriggling from beneath the blankets to be latched on to his mother's arm. "Tell me! Tell me!"
She gave him a weird expression, one that only confused him further. "The people out there protect us. They keep us safe by getting the bad guys."
"How?" Kaser questioned, picking a stray lint ball off of his night clothes.
She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Her gaze fell to her thin hands wringing a dish towel she had tucked into her apron. "They...make them go away." Kaser watched his mother's face change, like she was about to cry and Kaser was afraid he had caused it. His tiny hand reached up to touch his mother's face, giving it a small, reassuring pat to make her happy. "Don't be said, mother. It's okay. They will protect us, right? You, me, sister, father."
His mother seemed to become happier with the words and Kaser smiled too. He had made her happy again.
"Right. Now, get back in bed." She said with more playful smile, watching as her son wiggled himself back underneath the tautly tucked blankets. Her bottom lip, pale and pink as a rose petal, slipped into her mouth and between her teeth. "If...you're ever out at night and you see those shadows, those...monsters. Promise me you'll run straight home?"
Kaser didn't understand but he didn't want to make her cry. "Yes? But if they're there to protect us, why do I have to come home?" Suddenly, Kaser was fully of bravery. "If I ever see one, I can just talk to him and he'll take me ho-"
"NO!" Kaser's mother shouted, startling him. She turned to look at him, the most serious expression on her face that he had ever seen. "No. You should never talk to them. The monsters...I mean, the people, they're dangerous."
"But...only if I'm bad?"
She was silent for a long time and finally said: "Yes, only if you're bad. But please, promise me you won't stay out past curfew?"
Kaser nodded.
"Or try to talk to one?" She said with a laugh.
"Okay, mother. I promise."
"Alright, did you say your prayers?"
"Yes mother." Kaser lied - he would say them tomorrow. God would still be listening then, right? Maybe he could say them twice and that would count.
"Okay." She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, one of her dark hairs coming loose from her bun to tickle him on the nose. "I love you. May the Lord bless your dreams."
"Yours too, mother."
It had been so many years since then and so much had changed. Kaser had learned more about the Harbingers and what exactly they did to those that refused to comply with their standards of living.
Missing church? With a good excuse, they'd live to see another day.
Refusing to pray? They'd add them to their list; get to them within a week or two, unless they were stupid enough to cause a scene.
Assault? Dead before the sunrise the following morning.
Homosexuality?
A tree branch pounded on the roof of the house, lifting shingles up with crawling branches while the panes of glass in Kaser's window shook with the force of thunder. There was a storm rolling in; he'd better get to bed. Closing up his book and clicking off his light, Kaser slipped out of his clothes and hung them onto the hangar before putting them away. He dug blindly for his sleep clothes in the dresser drawer and finally found them crumpled up near the bottom under the other neatly folded night clothes he never wore. The sleep pants hugged his waist tightly and the white t-shirt around his chest allowed just enough airflow that he wouldn't get overheated; damn Texas summers. The softest click came from behind him and as Kaser turned around; he could see a menacing shadow standing in the way of the window, blocking what little moonlight there was peeking through. The shadowy mass was clad head to toe in black clothing, most of the figure obscured by the darkness save for one defining feature: brilliant electric blue eyes that were so stunning, they looked to be glowing. In their hand, the silver of a razor sharp knife bathed in the rays of moonlight.
There was no denying it: the figure was a Harbinger.
Kaser stared at the being, his thoughts coming to a screeching halt and his breath catching in his throat. The Harbinger took one step forward and Kaser matched them, meeting in the middle of the room only inches away from one another. The knife looked rusted at first glance, but upon closer inspection, had been stained red by what Kaser could assume was old blood. The Harbinger raised it dauntingly in their hand, flipping it closed and placing it in a belt that was slung loosely around their waist.
No second wasted, Kaser thrust himself into the Harbinger's arms and breathed in the all-too familiar scent; a mixture of a metallic copper and the crisp smell of fresh water. It was a scent he found himself missing far too often.
"Sin." Kaser breathed his name quietly as the man's hands explored all parts of Kaser's back, even daring to sleep beneath his shirt to revel in the heat of Kaser's skin.
"Kaser." Sin finally said after what felt like an eternity, his voice much softer than anyone could imagine. Upon first glance, with his wild mess of black hair and sharp features, Sin looked to be nothing more than another terrifying Harbinger but getting to know him...there was no explaining it. Sin was like no other Harbinger...no other person that he had ever met before; he was...special. Kaser was intoxicated by his smell though he knew it got on Sin's nerves, hence his obsessive need to wash off his work before he arrived but regardless, the smell remained. Initially, it appalled Kaser but now, it was all he wanted.
"Where have you been?" Kaser tried not to seem desperate but the words came out as a whine. "I've missed you."
Sin took a step back away from Kaser and towards his desk, responding with only a shrug and a flat tone. "There was a Harbinger. He had it coming. Jackson." He looked at the front of Kaser's textbook and grimaced' school wasn't Sin's forte; at least, not the kind of the rest of them had gone to.
Kaser was shocked. "Jackson? Wasn't he Liam's right hand man?"
Sin smirked. Obviously, he wasn't too concerned. "Yeah, this season's model, anyway."
"Either he must not know or he's trying to keep it hush hush. He was on tonight's daily broadcast..." But Kaser trailed off. He was eyeing the knife Sin had put into his belt. And as though Sin read the question in his mind:
"I thought Liam might be in here. He knows a lot more than you think..." It was a particular talent of Sin's, one that was neither taught nor learned. It was just how Sin was; perhaps that was one reason he had made such a good Harbinger. Kaser could see a look on Sin's face, one that told him that he was lost in thought but Sin shook his head as though to shake the thought away. Droplets of water went flying in every direction, including onto Kaser's homework but that was the last thing on his mind.
"You know Liam is going to be livid..." Kaser reminded him but Sin just smirked; he considered it a never-ending game of cat and mouse.
"That's exactly why I did it. I just need to lure him out...in between his photo ops and the time he spends in that office, I'll never get him if I don't set a trap."
Kaser bit his lip, trying to hide the growing concern about Sin's well-being. He wanted to say something but it wouldn't do any good. Sin was a rogue: he knew what he wanted and he wanted Liam dead - all Kaser could do was help him any way he could. "Just...be careful."
"Always." Sin said it like a promise; that was one of the things Kaser loved about him.
Kaser stepped back into Sin's arms and looked up at him, his eyes glittering like blue topaz down at Kaser who was just happy to be with him again, in between his missions. He reached up, his thumb wet with spit and wiped something off of Sin's face, a small drop of red smearing into a streak down his right cheek. "Missed a spot."
Sin leaned down to kiss him and although the feeling was overwhelming, his mind was somewhere in the past. His mother had warned him:
“Promise me you won’t talk to them?”
And he had promised – instead, he had done much worse than dared to speak to one.
But it wasn’t really breaking the rules, was it? After all, Sin was a Harbinger once but now, he was something else entirely. A rogue, a vigilante…
‘An immoral criminal?’
Commissioner Sounders’ words from the broadcast were like icepicks to the heart, echoing in the back of Kaser’s mind.
"Immorality is the foundation of crime, and we have ways to handling that."
Each time they coughed, Kaser's eyes darted to the top of the page to start over yet again but the words refused to stick. He needed silence to help the knowledge flow but that looked increasingly unlikely as more students filed in, each looking more sleep deprived and miserable than the last. They swooped around the library as though they were a hawk searching for prey and when a chair became vacant, they would all close in at once. And, when met with their competition, all of them would take a step back immediately and begin to apologize, insisting that one another took the seat; such was the mark of 'Pure Living' after all.
Selflessness was Godliness - a trait of the pure and devout.
But now that Kaser was really watching, he realized how utterly ridiculous it all was. Even when entire tables opened up, they insisted that the other person take it but would admit defeat at the urge of the others. They refused to compromise; sharing the table with one another seemed the simplest plan of all: but they didn't want to share. They wanted it all for themselves; they just didn't want to admit it because that wasn't selfless and therefore, not righteous.
One must always be righteous and courteous of others because this is the way that He envisioned it. Fighting like animals, demons, even, is to live like humans - not like God. But it wasn't selfless, nor was it pure or courteous...it was fake.
All of it was so fake.
It wasn't five minutes later that the first of the massive bells tolled, a pre-warning that sent all of the freshman scattering for the exits as though the Harbingers were going to appear out of thin air and slaughter them where they stood. Kaser knew that regardless of the bells chimes, he had a good hour left and more than enough time to get some real work done now that the distractions had left the building.
The silence was a welcome relief.
Another bell tolled fifteen minutes later and another, fifteen minutes after that until Kaser was the only one that remained in the library. Leisurely, Kaser began to pack up his things one by one into his bag, watching the lights in the far end of the library click off, casting the shelves into the darkness. An older woman walked by Kaser's table and gave a startled jump as he rose. A thin gray eyebrow lifted itself just above her dull, lifeless green eyes, the woman's pale lips shrinking as though she wanted to say something but thought better of it. Kaser gave her a reassuring smile but the woman continued to frown, growing the wrinkles just around the edge of her mouth while picking up the mess left behind by the college students.
"Have a blessed evening." Kaser offered with a smile but the woman just eyed Kaser and heaved a heavy, over exaggerated sigh as though he were the cause of her problems. Books lay out on the tables, chip crumbs ground into the dingy beige and black carpet by careless students and the tables were covered with fresh water rings that the librarian was trying unsuccessfully to remove. There were some things that religion couldn't fix, Kaser had determined. Despite their best attempt, they couldn't erase personality - flaws and all.
The campus itself seemed larger than it was, buildings four to five stories high towering over Kaser, making him feel small and meaningless in comparison. Most of the parking lots had cleared out and the only students that were left were those waiting on their ride or, like Kaser, making their way to the DART station for the last pick-up. It seemed further away than one might think, a few blocks from his school but thanks to the initiatives put into place by their local mayor, the streets were supposedly safer to walk on than they ever had been before. Rumors had a tendency to swirl about armed robberies or the occasional assault that would still happen to the unsuspecting pedestrian but they were nothing more than that: rumors. With the Harbingers on the prowl, the criminals of said crimes would already be dead and their crimes would be shushed by the politicians; it was simply the way things were. By the time he had made it to the West End, the last of the commuter rails was ready to take off and he barely squeaked into the train before the doors had closed. There weren't a lot of people aboard the train: a woman with a thin face, pronounced by her high cheekbones, and her hyperactive child took the seat closest to the doors, a Hispanic man was sitting near the back with his head leaned against the window and a single woman, brunette hair braided into pigtails sat across from the mother and child. Kaser took his seat between the man and the brunette, pulling out his textbook to pour over the pages during the commute. It was only a minute or so into his trip that Kaser realized that there was another man in back, hidden between the seats as he was awoken by his own snores and a hefty bump. As he moved around in his seat to find a more comfortable position, his greasy brown hair stuck to his pale face and the woman pulled her young son closer into herself and attempted to avert her gaze the city scenery.
"Moooom!" The young boy whined, wiping his runny nose onto his arm followed by a sniffle. "Play a game with me! I'm bored!"
"No, Christopher." She hushed him with a single finger. "Mommy's tired. Please, sit down."
But the boy wouldn't have it. He leapt from his seat onto the one behind him, crawling back row by row until he reached the one with the man in the dirty garb. With his pointer finger extended, the boy poked the man in the face and withdrew it immediately to wipe on his shirt, as though a little dirt were anymore disgusting than the snail trail of snot he had just wiped on his arm moments ago.
"TAG, YOU'RE IT!"
The man seemed confused at first until the boy reached out again, touching his shoulder this time as he hollered: "TAG! YOU'RE. IT."
A smile grew on the man's face, darkened yellow teeth appearing amongst an overgrown shrub of a thick black beard. He reached out to touch the boy but the mother, rushed over and snatched him from the chair and into her arms. It was as though she realized how annoying her son was being or, perhaps, she perceived him to be in some sort of danger and decided to try being a parent for the first time in her life.
"Christopher, God frowns on those that don't listen to their parents. Honour thy father and thy mother."
His lip quivered. "H-he...does?"
"Yes, he does. Now, come on. This is our stop." The woman gathered her things and shot a dirty look at the man, as though it was him that had done something wrong before exiting the line with her son in tow. Before the doors closed, Kaser could hear her chastising her son:
"Never speak to people like that, Christopher! They're a plague on society! Remember: The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat."
Kaser looked to the man to see if he heard it but his eyes, blue as the daytime sky, were already focused on something else out the far window.
One by one, people continued to file off of the train until only Kaser and the homeless man remained. He seemed nice, perhaps mentally ill given that he was muttering to himself or even down on his luck but never threatening or hateful. Richardson, a suburb of Dallas, came into view and Kaser knew it would be only minutes until his stop. He piled everything back into his bag and stopped when his fingers brushed against something; his allowance. The line came to a halt and Kaser rose, approaching the man with the measly ten dollars exposed in his outstretched hand.
"Here you go." He said softly to the man, a warm smile on his face. The man looked at the money and then at Kaser who gave him an encouraging nod before the man, following Kaser's own motions, nodded repeatedly. He took the money into his dirty hands, clutching Kaser's for a moment in an act of solidarity.
"Thank you." His voice was gruff and tired, younger than he had imagined but just as gravely.
He wanted to prattle off some Bible quote or mention that he hoped to see him again but Kaser knew he wouldn't; it was dangerous for a transient to be out in public so openly and especially so late. By the end of the week, Kaser was sure the man would be dead.
His stomach muscles tensed at the thought.
He didn't deserve that.
Kaser approached his home as the last rays of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon and darkness set in throughout the quiet suburban neighborhood. Their home was a traditional one story ranch, massive rounded windows surrounded by various shades of red brick leading into an archway that showcased the cross Kaser's father had painted on the front door four summers ago. The lawn was a crisp green, despite the Texas droughts that had caused it to yellow one too many times and it had been clipped, seeded and mowed to lush perfection in the past few weeks. Kaser had told his father that it was hopeless but his father was always ready with a comeback.
"Nothing is impossible with God."
Inside the house, there was the warm glow of too many lamps and the sound of voices and clinking plates coming from the kitchen. In the foyer, at his feet, were various shapes and sizes of shoes, each of them lined up in a perfect row that Kaser added to with his own before heading towards the kitchen. Once inside, he could see his family sitting at the table with their hands laced together and food piled on the table in a gross display of splendor and over-abundance. He thought back to the homeless man and frowned.
"You're late, Kaser." His fathered adjusted his thick, black-rimmed glasses, the lens magnifying his green eyes as if it emphasizes his frustration. He wouldn't yell; he never did but looked like he wanted to. "You can't keep doing this." Kaser's mother pushed a strand of dark brown hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear, a submissive smile appearing on her face as her husband spoke. She gave her husband's hand a light squeeze and he sat back into his chair and sighed.
"Kaser." His mother spoke softly, her voice like a hymn being hummed in church. "What your father means is that you're cutting it too close to curfew. It's..." The word seemed to escape her for a moment or maybe, she was just searching for the right one to use. One that didn't make it sound as though they were hunting down petty criminals to kill each night. "Dangerous to be out so late. Please don't do it again. We wouldn't anything to happen to you."
Though Kaser felt the need to speak up, he knew it was futile (and distasteful) to fight. "I'm sorry, mother." The words had little meaning to Kaser; he knew he'd do it again but there was no reason that his mother had to know that. An empty chair was to the right of his older sister and Kaser took it, sliding it forward towards the table before he felt his sister reach out to him. Clutching her hand with his own, the bowed their heads in ritual and prayed over their meal.
"Kaser, would you like to lead us?" His mother suggested. Kaser gripped his sister's hand a little tighter at the words; he hated leading in prayer. Normally, he would just ramble until the words came together but he had no idea what he was supposed to say.
He had asked once and received a strange look from his mother and father and never asked again.
Regardless, he tried his best.
"Heavenly Father, this food we are about to eat has been given by You to us and we thank You for this bounty. It is our hope that with this food, You send Your blessings and that we live as You wish for us to live: through honesty, purity and love. Lord, we pray that You guide us through the days and keep us through the night and You continue to bless us with these opportunities to join one another as a family that has been blessed by Your grace. Thank You Lord God Above for this food, this family and for Your sacrifice. We praise Your holy name. Amen."
His family must have felt the prayer was suitable, each of them repeating his 'Amen' before they began to dig in to the feast and engaging in mundane, everyday conversation.
"Share with us a piece of good news, Melina." His father recommended to his sister, whose mouth was full of potatoes. Kaser snorted with quiet laughter as she tried to speak but failed and she elbowed him in his ribs, prompting a warning from their mother.
"Now, now."
"I received an A+ on my speech assignment." She boasted proudly, her face beaming. "If I keep it up, I might graduate magna cum laude."
"Or even summa cum laude! Reach for the stars, sweetheart!" His father added in. "What was your speech assignment over?"
Kaser could feel the eye roll coming on.
"The impact that the Lord has had on my life."
And...there it was. But both his mother and father ate it up with a spoon, practically begging for seconds as Melina went on about it, as though a hundred other students hadn't already given the exact same speech.
"And Kaser, what about you?"
"I'm first in my Anatomy and Physiology class." He lied.
Kaser's father let out a hearty 'whoop!' and his mother smiled. "That's great, Kaser."
Dinner was typical, though that was no surprise. Most days felt like they were being lived on repeat though Kaser knew he shouldn't despise the mundane. It should be welcomed; at least he had a life to live. Mundane was good. Mundane was...safe. Dinner was always followed by thirty minutes of 'Family Bible Study' and then some 'Family TV Time' which usually consisted of his father flipping through a hundred channels only to settle on the news each time while the rest of them found their own activities to entertain themselves. Kaser sat on the couch next to his father, Melina beside him trying to sneak a peek at her phone, all while the channels sped by in a flurry of colors. In the kitchen, Kaser's mother worked to clean up and load the dishes into the wash for the night before joining them just in time for a return from commercials.
No one particularly like family time, it was just something they did because they knew they had to. But his father would be asleep by the time the broadcast was over, his mother would knit and nod as though she were listening (though she wasn't) and his sister would be tapping on her phone and Kaser? Kaser's mind was always somewhere else.
Thirty minutes had nearly passed, only minutes left until he could excuse himself to his room when a name dropped in the broadcast that caused Kaser's ears to perk.
"That's right, Shawn. We're here with Commissioner Liam Sounders, the founder and the creative mind behind the Congregation for the Pure of Living. Thank you for being with us today."
Suddenly, a face flashed on the screen and Kaser scowled.
"Mr. Sounders, you created the Congregation for the Pure of Living years ago, despite the fact that there was opposition to your message. Tell us about that."
The man looked paler than the bland white walls behind him, with dark, predatory eyes that followed the reporter as she swayed back and forth. Large, heavy pits beneath his eyes, accented by the deep purple bruising indicated that he was lacking in sleep while set frown lines around his mouth showed what everyone knew too well: the man never smiled. Any attempt at a smile would result in a grin like an animal bearing its teeth. "Well, I created the CPL as a means of fixing where the world was headed. I wanted a reality like the one we now have today: a safe place to grow families and make friends, one that doesn't hinge on being heterogeneous and politically correct. We need sameness to build a relationship with one another, a society that is centered on the Lord and all that He teaches. Those that are - or rather, were - opposed to such a change were living on the fringes of society. These were the ones that didn't fit in and weren't safe for our children to be around. But, with these initiatives and changes...we've made this country a safer place. Mark my words, it won't be long until other countries follow suit in the Lord's plan."
Kaser snorted quietly. As if he knew the first thing about anything the Lord taught.
Behind the eyes, darker than pure black, there was nothing - not even a soul.
"Well, you have certainly achieved a lot. In fact, we've just received a new report that crime is at an all-time low thanks to your program. You've been able to successfully bring our percentages to the brink, I mean, we're talking 0.43%!" The woman genuinely seemed taken by him as he put his put his pale hand over the pit where his heart should be.
"I'm flattered, honestly. But it's not just crime we have to worry about. It's morality too! Immorality is the foundation of crime… we have ways to handling that." Watching the broadcast made Kaser sick to his stomach. He could feel his supper turning over and his muscles twisting into nervous knots. They went through incredible lengths to avoid saying 'kill', 'massacre' or 'brainwash' as Commissioner Sounders prattled on about his programs and how all of it was 'the Lord's work'. Kaser couldn't watch another second.
"May I be excused?" Kaser looked at his mother, who seemed shocked by his abrupt request. "I've...got a big exam to study for. I just want to make sure I do well."
Her shock slowly faded to understanding as she nodded and Kaser trudged up the stairs to his room. The words from the television began to fade into the background with each step that Kaser took up the stairs;
"Do you have any words to those who might not agree with what you're doing, or those that say that it's wrong?"
"Accept the Lord. Accept the Congregation for the Pure of Living. Accept that this is the future - this is the way! We are the answer to a pure life as the immoral will soon come to realize."
The dark chocolate hardwood floors continued upstairs and into Kaser's room, a comfortable area with plenty of space and large window that overlooked the massive cottonwood tree that grew in their front yard. As he walked into his room, Kaser groped the wall looking for the light switching, groaning when only the ceiling fan came on. He tossed his bag onto his chair in the far corner of the room, flipping on the small desk lamp directly in front of it which gave the room a nice, yellow hue and him some light to work. Carefully, he unloaded what he needed from the back and tossed the rest of it onto his bed, directly behind him and only a few feet from his desk. Book open and phone out, Kaser began on his homework yet again, working well into the late hours of the night long after his family had gone to bed.
Leaning his head back against the chair and rubbing his eyes, Kaser pushed himself away from his desk a little too hard causing his chair to go flying. He grasped the edge of the windowsill to put on the brakes, staring outside to the darkened streets. Towering above the street were long silver light poles that were taller than any of the houses in the area, each of them dotting the corners but not a single one lit; perfect for hunting. For a long time, maybe half an hour or more, Kaser watched carefully for signs of movement though the Harbingers were highly trained not to be seen. Even with this knowledge, Kaser couldn't help but watch; he had seen one or two of them slip up before. Occasionally, they might linger too long in one area or turn the lights on in the home, a dead giveaway that the neighbor was getting a visit. He watched for what seemed like forever when he saw something, only the slightest shadow, dart across the lawn four houses down. He couldn't make out a solid figure, no gender or particular shape but there was definitely something there.
When Kaser was just a child, he remembered the first time he had ever 'seen' one.
Kaser's mom swore it was his imagination but he knew better.
"No...Kaser. There aren't monsters out there." she insisted, her brown eyes glittering with all the love in her heart for her youngest child.
But Kaser shook his bedraggled head. "Yes there are, mother! I saw it! It was there!"
"Kaser." She sighed heavily, her shoulders suddenly becoming heavy as though she were carrying bricks. "The things..." She started but then trailed off, unsure of where to go. Kaser cocked his head to the side - what couldn't she say? "The people out there are working. The help keep us safe. It's...hard to explain."
Suddenly, Kaser was wide awake, wriggling from beneath the blankets to be latched on to his mother's arm. "Tell me! Tell me!"
She gave him a weird expression, one that only confused him further. "The people out there protect us. They keep us safe by getting the bad guys."
"How?" Kaser questioned, picking a stray lint ball off of his night clothes.
She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Her gaze fell to her thin hands wringing a dish towel she had tucked into her apron. "They...make them go away." Kaser watched his mother's face change, like she was about to cry and Kaser was afraid he had caused it. His tiny hand reached up to touch his mother's face, giving it a small, reassuring pat to make her happy. "Don't be said, mother. It's okay. They will protect us, right? You, me, sister, father."
His mother seemed to become happier with the words and Kaser smiled too. He had made her happy again.
"Right. Now, get back in bed." She said with more playful smile, watching as her son wiggled himself back underneath the tautly tucked blankets. Her bottom lip, pale and pink as a rose petal, slipped into her mouth and between her teeth. "If...you're ever out at night and you see those shadows, those...monsters. Promise me you'll run straight home?"
Kaser didn't understand but he didn't want to make her cry. "Yes? But if they're there to protect us, why do I have to come home?" Suddenly, Kaser was fully of bravery. "If I ever see one, I can just talk to him and he'll take me ho-"
"NO!" Kaser's mother shouted, startling him. She turned to look at him, the most serious expression on her face that he had ever seen. "No. You should never talk to them. The monsters...I mean, the people, they're dangerous."
"But...only if I'm bad?"
She was silent for a long time and finally said: "Yes, only if you're bad. But please, promise me you won't stay out past curfew?"
Kaser nodded.
"Or try to talk to one?" She said with a laugh.
"Okay, mother. I promise."
"Alright, did you say your prayers?"
"Yes mother." Kaser lied - he would say them tomorrow. God would still be listening then, right? Maybe he could say them twice and that would count.
"Okay." She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, one of her dark hairs coming loose from her bun to tickle him on the nose. "I love you. May the Lord bless your dreams."
"Yours too, mother."
It had been so many years since then and so much had changed. Kaser had learned more about the Harbingers and what exactly they did to those that refused to comply with their standards of living.
Missing church? With a good excuse, they'd live to see another day.
Refusing to pray? They'd add them to their list; get to them within a week or two, unless they were stupid enough to cause a scene.
Assault? Dead before the sunrise the following morning.
Homosexuality?
A tree branch pounded on the roof of the house, lifting shingles up with crawling branches while the panes of glass in Kaser's window shook with the force of thunder. There was a storm rolling in; he'd better get to bed. Closing up his book and clicking off his light, Kaser slipped out of his clothes and hung them onto the hangar before putting them away. He dug blindly for his sleep clothes in the dresser drawer and finally found them crumpled up near the bottom under the other neatly folded night clothes he never wore. The sleep pants hugged his waist tightly and the white t-shirt around his chest allowed just enough airflow that he wouldn't get overheated; damn Texas summers. The softest click came from behind him and as Kaser turned around; he could see a menacing shadow standing in the way of the window, blocking what little moonlight there was peeking through. The shadowy mass was clad head to toe in black clothing, most of the figure obscured by the darkness save for one defining feature: brilliant electric blue eyes that were so stunning, they looked to be glowing. In their hand, the silver of a razor sharp knife bathed in the rays of moonlight.
There was no denying it: the figure was a Harbinger.
Kaser stared at the being, his thoughts coming to a screeching halt and his breath catching in his throat. The Harbinger took one step forward and Kaser matched them, meeting in the middle of the room only inches away from one another. The knife looked rusted at first glance, but upon closer inspection, had been stained red by what Kaser could assume was old blood. The Harbinger raised it dauntingly in their hand, flipping it closed and placing it in a belt that was slung loosely around their waist.
No second wasted, Kaser thrust himself into the Harbinger's arms and breathed in the all-too familiar scent; a mixture of a metallic copper and the crisp smell of fresh water. It was a scent he found himself missing far too often.
"Sin." Kaser breathed his name quietly as the man's hands explored all parts of Kaser's back, even daring to sleep beneath his shirt to revel in the heat of Kaser's skin.
"Kaser." Sin finally said after what felt like an eternity, his voice much softer than anyone could imagine. Upon first glance, with his wild mess of black hair and sharp features, Sin looked to be nothing more than another terrifying Harbinger but getting to know him...there was no explaining it. Sin was like no other Harbinger...no other person that he had ever met before; he was...special. Kaser was intoxicated by his smell though he knew it got on Sin's nerves, hence his obsessive need to wash off his work before he arrived but regardless, the smell remained. Initially, it appalled Kaser but now, it was all he wanted.
"Where have you been?" Kaser tried not to seem desperate but the words came out as a whine. "I've missed you."
Sin took a step back away from Kaser and towards his desk, responding with only a shrug and a flat tone. "There was a Harbinger. He had it coming. Jackson." He looked at the front of Kaser's textbook and grimaced' school wasn't Sin's forte; at least, not the kind of the rest of them had gone to.
Kaser was shocked. "Jackson? Wasn't he Liam's right hand man?"
Sin smirked. Obviously, he wasn't too concerned. "Yeah, this season's model, anyway."
"Either he must not know or he's trying to keep it hush hush. He was on tonight's daily broadcast..." But Kaser trailed off. He was eyeing the knife Sin had put into his belt. And as though Sin read the question in his mind:
"I thought Liam might be in here. He knows a lot more than you think..." It was a particular talent of Sin's, one that was neither taught nor learned. It was just how Sin was; perhaps that was one reason he had made such a good Harbinger. Kaser could see a look on Sin's face, one that told him that he was lost in thought but Sin shook his head as though to shake the thought away. Droplets of water went flying in every direction, including onto Kaser's homework but that was the last thing on his mind.
"You know Liam is going to be livid..." Kaser reminded him but Sin just smirked; he considered it a never-ending game of cat and mouse.
"That's exactly why I did it. I just need to lure him out...in between his photo ops and the time he spends in that office, I'll never get him if I don't set a trap."
Kaser bit his lip, trying to hide the growing concern about Sin's well-being. He wanted to say something but it wouldn't do any good. Sin was a rogue: he knew what he wanted and he wanted Liam dead - all Kaser could do was help him any way he could. "Just...be careful."
"Always." Sin said it like a promise; that was one of the things Kaser loved about him.
Kaser stepped back into Sin's arms and looked up at him, his eyes glittering like blue topaz down at Kaser who was just happy to be with him again, in between his missions. He reached up, his thumb wet with spit and wiped something off of Sin's face, a small drop of red smearing into a streak down his right cheek. "Missed a spot."
Sin leaned down to kiss him and although the feeling was overwhelming, his mind was somewhere in the past. His mother had warned him:
“Promise me you won’t talk to them?”
And he had promised – instead, he had done much worse than dared to speak to one.
But it wasn’t really breaking the rules, was it? After all, Sin was a Harbinger once but now, he was something else entirely. A rogue, a vigilante…
‘An immoral criminal?’
Commissioner Sounders’ words from the broadcast were like icepicks to the heart, echoing in the back of Kaser’s mind.
"Immorality is the foundation of crime, and we have ways to handling that."
story
Plot
Before the Harbingers swooped in to clean up the streets, the U.S. had become a Godless nation full of criminals, having overpowered and overpopulated the police force. With double the murder per capita of any other country in the world, the United States recognized that it had a problem on its hands. What formed from these dark times was a presidential candidate who claimed he could quell the fear in the hearts of the people and bring the nation back to its proud, religious roots if he only had their complete compliance. There would be an emphasis on family and community and at its center, of course, a natural focus on the Holy Father on which all relationships would be based. Through what would later be described as 'necessary action' (per the words of a textbook), he rid the United States of the non-believers, convicts, the sinners and the unworthy. Exhausted as a hero, this man and his iron first of injustice brought the population full-circle: but it would only be temporary, he warned. As the celebrated man stepped down from his second term, he stated there must be some form of maintenance to keep the nation pure, a reminder in their hearts to fear God and all His power. The cryptic words were the perfect drug for any good red-blooded American; as fear is the ultimate controlling power.
Generations later, it was as he had predicted: crime was on the rise once more. The economy had taken a major hit as did the housing market, so trumpeted the headlines. Crime rose in tandem as the once moral nation grew frustrated and afraid; robbery, prostitution, pickpocketing and even murder. Once the economy recovered, experts promised, all would return to stasis. But more problems were on the horizon - the campaign for morality had created a baby boom that hadn’t been experienced since the 50’s. Building God’s Army had been a forefront of the nation; and now, people outnumbered homes.
And common sense.
Liam Sounders, one of the Blessed Generation, was a sixth grade school teacher in Dallas, Texas at the time. He hardly felt the squeeze at all; in fact, he hardly felt anything. His life had been lived a thousand times: the wife, three children, a job teaching snot-nose little gutter snipes all afternoon before he went to church in the evening. It was played out and, quite frankly, boring. He was the Ideal American and by looking into the faces of the other law-abiding Ideal American, he could tell. In his neighborhood, others of the Blessed Generation worked their ass off while the younger citizens walked around with their hands out. It made him sick.
And then, a young boy by the name of Sinclair Parker enrolled in his class. Brilliant as he was adorable, Sinclair would prove useful to Liam in more ways than one. Following a standard test of their moral fiber established almost three decades ago, Liam hands out some questionnaires concerning the state of the world, things such as 'How to fix the rise in crime?' and 'How to improve moral living?' Most answers were nothing more than brown-nosing at its worst and promptly ended up as a pile of trash but Sinclair's answers were...inspired.
More importantly, the boy gave Liam an idea; an idea that quickly became reality, to the bring back the fear of God to the millions.
The basis was simple: a large police group that would allow punishment of moral crimes. Liam, as a previous officer, could lead the charge. Soon, with the help of local politicians, Liam spread the campaign all throughout cities across the Western United States to much fanfare. Things were beginning to shape up, but something was missing: fear. People knew that they should be moral but nothing was forcing them to comply to the rules more than gentle reminders and small harassment that could easily be denied. A new major election came galloping on the horizon, and a new candidate could see this generation formed in a moral society getting restless at the lack of results. Liam jumped at the opportunity, a Blessed Generation himself, one that could remember a time when morals were common sense. Another idea had come to him; but this one would require a test subject and country-wide approval. Sinclair fit the bill as prototype, having no choice in the matter. After years of torture, training and mental anguish, the Congregation for the Pure of Living were created; modeled after Sinclair’s extreme physical abilities. The group was granted the power use lethal force on anyone for any crime at any time - given the authority of the newly elected candidate - and was precisely what the nation needed as it seemed. The fear of God had been established in the new, moral-less generation; Liam was regarded a champion of his time.
As the sun set on each day, citizens would rush home to their families, guided by a strict curfew and those found lurking were punished as the Congregation for the Pure of Living came out. Parents spun wild stories to their children about the Harbingers - and how they crept about in their rooms at night keeping a watchful eye out for sinful activities. It was true: very little escaped the Harbingers; some people even felt safer with them around. And this, as it turns out, was exactly what Liam and the corrupt man in office had hoped for.
Time marched on, and Sinclair noticed something troubling; he was no longer his teacher’s favorite pet. He had moved on to younger Harbinger students; the idea was too much to handle. Broken mentally, like a wounded animal, Sinclair broke free from his teacher’s grasp and flew out, unbridled, into the night. He would be the beginning of the darkest time for the Congregation for the Pure of Living - and a very personal thorn in Commissioner Liam’s side. Sinclair (now known as Sin) began unearthing Harbingers in the daylight, their corpses left in public places for the world to see. When they attacked at night, a cloak of mystery surrounded them. Here, out in the open...the civilians could see clearly. And the tides were beginning to turn: the Blessed Generation wasn’t getting any younger and very soon, they would be outnumbered. Liam knew this; and the only way to establish a very firm grip on the nation for generations to come would be to eliminate those who thought differently.
As Sin gathered momentum in his one-man track to destroy the Harbingers, his path crossed with Kaser; a doe-eyed boy in sheep’s clothing. His innocence and unadulterated hope for the future drew the deranged ex-Harbinger in. Unfortunately for all involved, this would only add oil to the fire that was Liam and Sin’s very public, very political fight; now that Sin has something to fight for, there’s no telling how the story would end.
Holier Than Thou is the wildfire story of a man pining for a time that could no longer be - one where happiness, not fear, ruled the people. Sin wishes for a time when religions of all types could flourish, and insane ideals of purity and perfection weren’t a requirement. It touches on that unspoken, nagging thought in the deepest parts of hearts everywhere: that, perhaps, we all follow rules out of fear - but in this world, what paper-thin excuse is that? Total acceptance, love and devotion are the only options that will please the Harbingers and, ultimately, the Lord.It doesn’t quite matter why one believes...only that he believes.
plot
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