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java_fiendAnother week, another round of awesome intersection goodness. This week, I was paired up with the very awesomely devious and delightfully twisted ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
porn_this_way who was an absolute top-notch partner to work with! You can find her side of our story here...
And mine, below the cut...
“Brothers and sisters, we’ve been lied to. They’ve obscured the truth from us. Hidden it from us. For centuries.”
The small room is small stuffy and I can feel the sweat from another hot Texas day rolling down my back. My plain cotton shirt is sticking to my skin uncomfortably. Such is the price we must pay while in service to our Lord, I suppose. I just can’t wait to get out of here and grab a shower.
“My brothers and sisters, I’ve seen the truth that they’ve tried to keep from us,” I say. “I’ve been to Jerusalem, I’ve been to Egypt and I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. And let me tell you something, it is a glorious thing to behold.”
“Tell us,” somebody calls from the back of the room.
“Share the Word,” comes another voice.
I look out over a room crowded with people desperate to believe in something, anything. I stand before a room filled with people I’ve culled from the ranks of society, people whose lives were so desolate and so devoid of anything that they gratefully gobbled up the breadcrumbs of salvation and fellowship I threw them and then turned around and asked for more.
“Brothers and sisters,” I said. “The Church has spent centuries blinding you from the truth and keeping you from hearing Jesus’ true words.”
Applause erupts around the room along with cries of affirmation.
“They have a vested interest in keeping you from thinking for yourselves,” I raise my voice for dramatic effect. “To keep you docile, compliant and worst of all, ignorant!”
I see a room full of heads nodding in agreement, eyes turned to me shining with fervent belief.
“Brothers and sisters, we’re all here because we want the truth,” I say. “Because we want to live by Jesus’ own words, not the words doled out by a Church rife with corruption who has every possible motivation and desire to keep us living in the dark.”
“Praise Jesus,” somebody calls.
“Praise Brother Jonah!”
A bell outside sounds and I know it’s time to wrap up this act of the play. I’ve got them walking toward the edge and it’s almost time to push them over. But not just yet.
“I’ve seen the truth,” I say. “And I will share that truth with you. Every last bit of it.”
More applause and I can feel their excitement and anticipation building. My own blood races as I feel all of their eyes upon me. I’ve always loved being in the limelight, being the star and the center of everybody’s attention.
“But first, our day’s labor calls to us,” I say. “It is time for our chores, brothers and sisters. Please, see to them and we’ll meet again tonight for a sharing of Jesus’ true words.”
Excited murmuring spreads around the room as my parishioners stand and begin filing out to do their day’s chores. I’ve spent the last year ramping them up to this point, getting them ready to share the truth with me. And it's almost time.
*******
We all have our gifts. Some folks are good at math. Some at science. Others at athletics. My gift is an uncanny ability to accurately measure and size people up just by looking at them. It’s sort of a sixth sense, I suppose. I’m also fortunate enough to have a real gift of gab. It helps of course, that I have a trustworthy face, am intelligent and very articulate. People can’t stop themselves from liking me or from wanting to believe what I tell them. I’ve found that I can be all things to all people and leave them feeling better about life and about themselves. Those are my gifts and I make the best use of them as I can.
I stand at the window in my quarters on the second floor of the chapel building sipping a cold soda and watching my flock go about their daily routines. Some work in the fields, harvesting our crops, some are hanging sheets and clothing on the laundry lines, others do various odds and ends… all with smiles on their faces for they know that it’s these daily labors that keep us alive and flourishing. Everybody seems so happy to be doing an honest day’s labor.
My name is Jonah Hathaway and I am the founder of The Lighted Path, a self-sustaining commune devoted to living by the word of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I’m proud of my work here and think the lives of everybody that’s been a part of it has been bettered and enriched. Of all of the communes I’ve created, this has been, by far, the most successful one. We’ve formed a genuine fellowship and community over the last year. And as I always do, I feel a touch of sadness when I think about leaving it.
“What are you thinking, Jonah?”
I turn and look at Jasmine stretched out across my bed. Sweet, nubile Jasmine. Sixteen years-old and an absolute knockout. She’s definitely my favorite of the four wives I’ve taken at The Lighted Path and I’m going to miss her the most.
“Nothing, sweetheart,” I say. “Just thinking on Jesus’ words.”
“Do you think our baby will be a prophet like you?” She says. “I mean, when Jesus blesses us with a baby?”
I’m pretty sure the vasectomy I had years ago eliminate the chances of that happening. I cross to the bed, sit down and take her hand in mine. I can’t stop the stirring in my groin as I look at her.
“I know he will be,” I say. “Jesus has told me as much.”
She smiles at me and opens her robe, revealing her firm, nude body. The sight of her makes my heart quicken and unleashes a flood of pure lust within my body. Though I have many preparations to make for the evening service yet, I allow myself one last taste of this earthly delight.
“Amen,” I say.
*******
“What the world doesn’t know about Jesus Christ,” I say. “Is that He saw the future. The Holy books that have been kept from us, the Holy books that I have seen are the books of Christ’s prophecies.”
My flock has cleaned up after their labors, have eaten dinner together and have gathered in the fellowship hall once more. There is a palpable excitement in the air as they await the secret knowledge that I possess.
“Like Nostradamus,” I continue. “Or even the ancient Mayans, Christ knew that the age of man would pass from this earth and like the dinosaurs, we too would all become extinct. He foresaw it and wrote about it extensively. But the Church knew what a firestorm it would unleash and how little power and control they would have. So they simply removed those books from the Bible leaving us all to dwell in ignorance. But I have news, my brothers and sisters. The end time that Jesus foresaw is here. Now.”
I hear a collective gasp within the hall followed by a current of low murmuring. I let it continue for a few moments as I watch them. I see mothers grabbing the hands of their children as the ripple of fear spread throughout the flock.
“Fear not, my brothers and sisters,” I say. “For Christ has not abandoned us to die alone. He has provided for our salvation and lit a path for us to follow back to Him.
The murmuring dies away and all eyes are fixed on me once more. I look at Jasmine sitting in the front row, a calm, worshipful smile touching her lips and a slight pang of longing runs through me. I know that she, like the three girls sitting next to her, who are also my wives, would do whatever it was that I asked for I am the prophet of God.
“Do you trust me?” I call out.
Heads begin to nod. There are only a few, slowly at first but then more join in and soon enough, my entire flock follows suit.
“Do you believe that I can show you the way,” I call. “That together, we will walk the lighted path back to Jesus?”
Excitement replaces the fear that had existed just moments before. People stand and cry out, screaming Hallelujah, Amen and beg me to take them on the path back to Jesus. I motion to the boys standing in the wings and they roll out a cart with stacks of cups and a large cooler placed upon it.
“Everybody drinks,” I say. “Everybody celebrates tonight for Jesus is near.”
I see some eyes shifting back and forth, exchanging uncertain glances with the others. In the faces of others, I see nothing but rapt devotion and happiness.
“We walk the lighted path back to Jesus tonight,” I say. “We revel in his life, in his words and together, we will leave this doomed place and join Him in the Kingdom of Heaven for eternity.”
Some eagerly take the cups while others or more hesitant. This is the crucial moment.
“Do you want to stand before Jesus with perfect love and perfect trust in you heart?” I call out. “Or would you rather spend eternity in torment? If you would rather live your last few days on this world in darkness and despair and not join your brothers and sisters on the lighted path, please stand and leave the fellowship hall while we celebrate and embrace our Lord and Savior.”
As I survey my flock, I can distinguish the faces of the true believers from the faces of those who aren’t sure but have spent a lifetime being ostracized by others. I can see them caving in to the peer pressure, terrified of being alone once more. Slowly, I feel the mood in the room shifting from uncertainty and hesitation to acceptance and even celebration. I watch my flock stand and raise their glasses to me. I smile and take my own glass from my private bottle and lift my glass in return.
“Praise Jesus,” I say.
“Praise Jesus,” the repeat and drink their glasses down.
I drink with them and then wait. The cyanide in the wine is fast and efficient and it doesn’t take long before they start to fall. Man, woman and child alike. The last person standing is Shawna, which I suppose sort of brings it all full circle since she's the last person I brought to The Lighted Path. She’d been just the kind of woman I like to draw to my communes… beautiful, divorced with some money and starved for affection. Low-hanging fruit to be sure, but I’d enjoyed every night I spent with her as I drew her deeper and deeper into the fold. Her son though, has proved to be a little more trouble than he’s worth. She looks around wildly realizing for the first time that Alexander isn't with her in this most important moment. She finally looks at me as I stand at the dais, concern filling her face and questions abounding in her eyes. It takes several moments but she eventually falls dead amongst the other faithful. I step down from the podium and cast one last look at Jasmine’s wide chocolate brown eyes, a small smile forever frozen on her beautiful face. Even in death she has the power to arouse me.
I step around the bodies and exit the fellowship hall, shutting and locking the doors behind me. It will take a while for the authorities to discover the bodies inside but it’s time to leave The Lighted Path. After one last little chore. Alexander is a curious little boy. Way too curious, too defiant and too mouthy for his own good. The little shit actually had the balls to challenge me!
I didn’t want to take any chances with the kid ruining my final act so I pulled him out of the group and locked him up for safe keeping until it was over. I make my way to the storm cellar and pull the pistol from my waistband. I click the safety off and chamber a round. I hate doing it this way. It’s uncivilized and incredibly barbaric. But I do what I have to do to ensure my own survival and continued prosperity. Unbolting the storm cellar doors, I descend into the dimly lit room.
*******
I pack the last of my belongings into my Mercedes SUV, slam the hatch shut and smile. This fine machine was purchased with the proceeds earned from my stint at The Lighted Path. Before allowing somebody to join my commune, they are required to liquidate their earthly assets and turn them over to me. To help our community grow and prosper, of course. And some of it is actually used to support the commune and keep it running but the lion’s share goes to me. After establishing ten of these communes over the years, I’ve saved a very handsome sum and am thinking about retiring. Maybe somewhere tropical. And maybe I’ll find a girl as beautiful as Jasmine and live out the rest of my years in luxury. The idea sounds appealing.
I carefully retrace my steps, making sure that I erased every trace of my passing. Having done this for so long, it’s second nature to me now. I look around the compound one last time. As appealing as retiring to a life of luxury sounds, I know that it can’t compete with the thrill of having complete control over a group of people. Nothing could possibly fulfill me quite like telling people what to do, how to live and when to die. Watching fifty people die because you told them to is a high unlike anything else on the planet. Of course, the promise of sweet, young treats like Jasmine doesn’t hurt either.
I climb into the SUV, slip on a pair of shades, crank up some music and drop the car into gear, leaving The Lighted Path and the name Jonah Hathaway in the rear-view mirror.
This has been my entry for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
therealljidol Season 8, Topic 22: "Straw that Stirs the Drink." As always, thank you so much for stopping by to give me a read and don't forget to swing on by and take a look at my very awesome partner, porn_this_way's entry. And don't forget to spread a little voting-love around! Thanks you guys!!!
porn_this_way who was an absolute top-notch partner to work with! You can find her side of our story here...And mine, below the cut...
“Brothers and sisters, we’ve been lied to. They’ve obscured the truth from us. Hidden it from us. For centuries.”
The small room is small stuffy and I can feel the sweat from another hot Texas day rolling down my back. My plain cotton shirt is sticking to my skin uncomfortably. Such is the price we must pay while in service to our Lord, I suppose. I just can’t wait to get out of here and grab a shower.
“My brothers and sisters, I’ve seen the truth that they’ve tried to keep from us,” I say. “I’ve been to Jerusalem, I’ve been to Egypt and I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. And let me tell you something, it is a glorious thing to behold.”
“Tell us,” somebody calls from the back of the room.
“Share the Word,” comes another voice.
I look out over a room crowded with people desperate to believe in something, anything. I stand before a room filled with people I’ve culled from the ranks of society, people whose lives were so desolate and so devoid of anything that they gratefully gobbled up the breadcrumbs of salvation and fellowship I threw them and then turned around and asked for more.
“Brothers and sisters,” I said. “The Church has spent centuries blinding you from the truth and keeping you from hearing Jesus’ true words.”
Applause erupts around the room along with cries of affirmation.
“They have a vested interest in keeping you from thinking for yourselves,” I raise my voice for dramatic effect. “To keep you docile, compliant and worst of all, ignorant!”
I see a room full of heads nodding in agreement, eyes turned to me shining with fervent belief.
“Brothers and sisters, we’re all here because we want the truth,” I say. “Because we want to live by Jesus’ own words, not the words doled out by a Church rife with corruption who has every possible motivation and desire to keep us living in the dark.”
“Praise Jesus,” somebody calls.
“Praise Brother Jonah!”
A bell outside sounds and I know it’s time to wrap up this act of the play. I’ve got them walking toward the edge and it’s almost time to push them over. But not just yet.
“I’ve seen the truth,” I say. “And I will share that truth with you. Every last bit of it.”
More applause and I can feel their excitement and anticipation building. My own blood races as I feel all of their eyes upon me. I’ve always loved being in the limelight, being the star and the center of everybody’s attention.
“But first, our day’s labor calls to us,” I say. “It is time for our chores, brothers and sisters. Please, see to them and we’ll meet again tonight for a sharing of Jesus’ true words.”
Excited murmuring spreads around the room as my parishioners stand and begin filing out to do their day’s chores. I’ve spent the last year ramping them up to this point, getting them ready to share the truth with me. And it's almost time.
We all have our gifts. Some folks are good at math. Some at science. Others at athletics. My gift is an uncanny ability to accurately measure and size people up just by looking at them. It’s sort of a sixth sense, I suppose. I’m also fortunate enough to have a real gift of gab. It helps of course, that I have a trustworthy face, am intelligent and very articulate. People can’t stop themselves from liking me or from wanting to believe what I tell them. I’ve found that I can be all things to all people and leave them feeling better about life and about themselves. Those are my gifts and I make the best use of them as I can.
I stand at the window in my quarters on the second floor of the chapel building sipping a cold soda and watching my flock go about their daily routines. Some work in the fields, harvesting our crops, some are hanging sheets and clothing on the laundry lines, others do various odds and ends… all with smiles on their faces for they know that it’s these daily labors that keep us alive and flourishing. Everybody seems so happy to be doing an honest day’s labor.
My name is Jonah Hathaway and I am the founder of The Lighted Path, a self-sustaining commune devoted to living by the word of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I’m proud of my work here and think the lives of everybody that’s been a part of it has been bettered and enriched. Of all of the communes I’ve created, this has been, by far, the most successful one. We’ve formed a genuine fellowship and community over the last year. And as I always do, I feel a touch of sadness when I think about leaving it.
“What are you thinking, Jonah?”
I turn and look at Jasmine stretched out across my bed. Sweet, nubile Jasmine. Sixteen years-old and an absolute knockout. She’s definitely my favorite of the four wives I’ve taken at The Lighted Path and I’m going to miss her the most.
“Nothing, sweetheart,” I say. “Just thinking on Jesus’ words.”
“Do you think our baby will be a prophet like you?” She says. “I mean, when Jesus blesses us with a baby?”
I’m pretty sure the vasectomy I had years ago eliminate the chances of that happening. I cross to the bed, sit down and take her hand in mine. I can’t stop the stirring in my groin as I look at her.
“I know he will be,” I say. “Jesus has told me as much.”
She smiles at me and opens her robe, revealing her firm, nude body. The sight of her makes my heart quicken and unleashes a flood of pure lust within my body. Though I have many preparations to make for the evening service yet, I allow myself one last taste of this earthly delight.
“Amen,” I say.
“What the world doesn’t know about Jesus Christ,” I say. “Is that He saw the future. The Holy books that have been kept from us, the Holy books that I have seen are the books of Christ’s prophecies.”
My flock has cleaned up after their labors, have eaten dinner together and have gathered in the fellowship hall once more. There is a palpable excitement in the air as they await the secret knowledge that I possess.
“Like Nostradamus,” I continue. “Or even the ancient Mayans, Christ knew that the age of man would pass from this earth and like the dinosaurs, we too would all become extinct. He foresaw it and wrote about it extensively. But the Church knew what a firestorm it would unleash and how little power and control they would have. So they simply removed those books from the Bible leaving us all to dwell in ignorance. But I have news, my brothers and sisters. The end time that Jesus foresaw is here. Now.”
I hear a collective gasp within the hall followed by a current of low murmuring. I let it continue for a few moments as I watch them. I see mothers grabbing the hands of their children as the ripple of fear spread throughout the flock.
“Fear not, my brothers and sisters,” I say. “For Christ has not abandoned us to die alone. He has provided for our salvation and lit a path for us to follow back to Him.
The murmuring dies away and all eyes are fixed on me once more. I look at Jasmine sitting in the front row, a calm, worshipful smile touching her lips and a slight pang of longing runs through me. I know that she, like the three girls sitting next to her, who are also my wives, would do whatever it was that I asked for I am the prophet of God.
“Do you trust me?” I call out.
Heads begin to nod. There are only a few, slowly at first but then more join in and soon enough, my entire flock follows suit.
“Do you believe that I can show you the way,” I call. “That together, we will walk the lighted path back to Jesus?”
Excitement replaces the fear that had existed just moments before. People stand and cry out, screaming Hallelujah, Amen and beg me to take them on the path back to Jesus. I motion to the boys standing in the wings and they roll out a cart with stacks of cups and a large cooler placed upon it.
“Everybody drinks,” I say. “Everybody celebrates tonight for Jesus is near.”
I see some eyes shifting back and forth, exchanging uncertain glances with the others. In the faces of others, I see nothing but rapt devotion and happiness.
“We walk the lighted path back to Jesus tonight,” I say. “We revel in his life, in his words and together, we will leave this doomed place and join Him in the Kingdom of Heaven for eternity.”
Some eagerly take the cups while others or more hesitant. This is the crucial moment.
“Do you want to stand before Jesus with perfect love and perfect trust in you heart?” I call out. “Or would you rather spend eternity in torment? If you would rather live your last few days on this world in darkness and despair and not join your brothers and sisters on the lighted path, please stand and leave the fellowship hall while we celebrate and embrace our Lord and Savior.”
As I survey my flock, I can distinguish the faces of the true believers from the faces of those who aren’t sure but have spent a lifetime being ostracized by others. I can see them caving in to the peer pressure, terrified of being alone once more. Slowly, I feel the mood in the room shifting from uncertainty and hesitation to acceptance and even celebration. I watch my flock stand and raise their glasses to me. I smile and take my own glass from my private bottle and lift my glass in return.
“Praise Jesus,” I say.
“Praise Jesus,” the repeat and drink their glasses down.
I drink with them and then wait. The cyanide in the wine is fast and efficient and it doesn’t take long before they start to fall. Man, woman and child alike. The last person standing is Shawna, which I suppose sort of brings it all full circle since she's the last person I brought to The Lighted Path. She’d been just the kind of woman I like to draw to my communes… beautiful, divorced with some money and starved for affection. Low-hanging fruit to be sure, but I’d enjoyed every night I spent with her as I drew her deeper and deeper into the fold. Her son though, has proved to be a little more trouble than he’s worth. She looks around wildly realizing for the first time that Alexander isn't with her in this most important moment. She finally looks at me as I stand at the dais, concern filling her face and questions abounding in her eyes. It takes several moments but she eventually falls dead amongst the other faithful. I step down from the podium and cast one last look at Jasmine’s wide chocolate brown eyes, a small smile forever frozen on her beautiful face. Even in death she has the power to arouse me.
I step around the bodies and exit the fellowship hall, shutting and locking the doors behind me. It will take a while for the authorities to discover the bodies inside but it’s time to leave The Lighted Path. After one last little chore. Alexander is a curious little boy. Way too curious, too defiant and too mouthy for his own good. The little shit actually had the balls to challenge me!
I didn’t want to take any chances with the kid ruining my final act so I pulled him out of the group and locked him up for safe keeping until it was over. I make my way to the storm cellar and pull the pistol from my waistband. I click the safety off and chamber a round. I hate doing it this way. It’s uncivilized and incredibly barbaric. But I do what I have to do to ensure my own survival and continued prosperity. Unbolting the storm cellar doors, I descend into the dimly lit room.
I pack the last of my belongings into my Mercedes SUV, slam the hatch shut and smile. This fine machine was purchased with the proceeds earned from my stint at The Lighted Path. Before allowing somebody to join my commune, they are required to liquidate their earthly assets and turn them over to me. To help our community grow and prosper, of course. And some of it is actually used to support the commune and keep it running but the lion’s share goes to me. After establishing ten of these communes over the years, I’ve saved a very handsome sum and am thinking about retiring. Maybe somewhere tropical. And maybe I’ll find a girl as beautiful as Jasmine and live out the rest of my years in luxury. The idea sounds appealing.
I carefully retrace my steps, making sure that I erased every trace of my passing. Having done this for so long, it’s second nature to me now. I look around the compound one last time. As appealing as retiring to a life of luxury sounds, I know that it can’t compete with the thrill of having complete control over a group of people. Nothing could possibly fulfill me quite like telling people what to do, how to live and when to die. Watching fifty people die because you told them to is a high unlike anything else on the planet. Of course, the promise of sweet, young treats like Jasmine doesn’t hurt either.
I climb into the SUV, slip on a pair of shades, crank up some music and drop the car into gear, leaving The Lighted Path and the name Jonah Hathaway in the rear-view mirror.
This has been my entry for
therealljidol Season 8, Topic 22: "Straw that Stirs the Drink." As always, thank you so much for stopping by to give me a read and don't forget to swing on by and take a look at my very awesome partner, porn_this_way's entry. And don't forget to spread a little voting-love around! Thanks you guys!!!
