
It was well before dawn when he woke. His brown hair was mussed and in his face from a restless night of sleep. The nightmares had returned. They were much worse than ever before. In the past he would feel elated after dreaming of death, evil spirits and a world of desolation because in it there was still a sense of victory, a sense of freshness and a sense of now. The ends of his hair, which hung down near his mouth were crusted with blood and vomit. He didn’t care enough, nor did he think it was smart, to use his water rations to wash his face and hair. Now was not the time; now was the time to get to the edge of the forest by “oh dark thirty” or more specifically 0400 hours.
As his faction had no precise or homogenous form of dress he was clothed completely in black, which was his personal choice as a uniform. He knelt down, took the first two fingers of his right hand and gently touched his forehead, chest, left shoulder, and then his right shoulder.
Glory be to the Father,
and to the Son,
and to the Holy Spirit.
He folded his hands together in prayer.
As it was in the beginning,
is now,
and ever shall be,
world without end.
His folded hands clutched the muzzle of his AK-47 which was adorned with a short chain of broken rosary beads and a black bloodied squirrel tail.
St. Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle.
Be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the Devil.
The squirrel tail was a reminder of the time before he lived off the plants surrounding the small church house he now made his home.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray,
and do thou,
O Prince of the heavenly hosts,
The rosary beads, although he had a long apostatized, still held some sense of power and ethereal belief for him.
by the power of God,
thrust into hell Satan,
and all the evil spirits,
who prowl about the world
seeking the ruin of souls.
He knew in his heart what this all meant and how it would give him the strength to leave men, women and children dead in his path. As the last word escaped his chapped, cracked lips, he was up and out the door, crossing God’s acre and leaving behind the spectres of that church he called home.
Amen.
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