Hallo angels! Sorry for my radio silence but I’ve been super busy lately. First off my apologies that Sinnergog Part 2 is late! Life happened, but I assure you it will be out as soon as I can manage. As a peace offering I’m putting a chapter from the next installment down below.
Also you only have 2 days left of the 50% off special to grab Tirgearr Publishing titles from Smashwords.
There’s lots of stuff going on, and I’ll tell you more about all of that soon! Happy weekend and tons of huggages!
Excerpt from Sinnergog Part 2
Slothfulness casteth into a deep sleep;
and an idle soul shall suffer hunger.
~ Proverbs 19:15
Carefully stowing away my head mask in the trunk under my workbench, I head indoors. I’ve been gone for a fortnight and simply couldn’t delay my return no matter how much it fills me with irritation.
Stepping into the house via the garage, it strikes me as odd that there are no lights on. Instantly my veins surge with confrontation, my hormones spiking for battle. Caution and supreme awareness govern my instincts, my Glock in my palm without conscious thought, the safety disengaged because I’m still wearing gloves and it can’t ID my fingerprints.
The softest sounds reach my sub-conscious and I tread the darkness like a moonbeam, slipping between pockets of intense shadow to reach the only room with flickering light.
The stench hits me before awareness does.
I’m in the lounge, staring at my wife with her hand deep inside a Cheetos packet, chewing with her mouth open while watching mindless drivel on TV – the only source of illumination. The curtains haven’t been drawn, nor the house aired, and the disarray surrounding her tells me she’s been slothful since my departure.
I’m sick of the ‘depression’ bullshit she’s using as an excuse to be lazy and useless. She assaults my religious compass and antagonizes the angel within me. God hates laziness, he hates fat and useless. She can’t be bothered to get off her hiney and clean her own house. She has no pride in herself or her home. I can’t live with someone I can’t respect.
The attraction died long ago, the love went with it.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
She doesn’t even flinch, she just keeps staring at that devil box, wiping her hand on stained leggings, the dimples of her cellulite deep-etched in this unflattering light. “Watching telly.”
“I can see that, Shauna. Why haven’t you turned on a light? Cleaned up? Gone for a run or something?”
This time the bulbous face angles my way and she shrugs up a padded shoulder, “Not in the mood.”
“Shauna, I have words for you.”
“Save it til after. Only fifteen minutes left and then we’ll catch up.”
Outraged I step between her and the television screen, glowering at her, repulsed by the entity masquerading as human. I purified her but it would seem that the devil’s hooks were deep within her, because now I’m staring directly into the eyes of a blatant sinner. “Sodom’s sins were pride, gluttony, and laziness.” (Ezekiel 16:49)
“Don’t fuck with me, Vic. Seriously, I’m not in the mood for your religious jokes.”
“You are slovenly and disgusting! Look at you! Have you done anything since I’ve been gone other than feed your face, hips, thighs and evil?” I ask, my voice dropping to gruff because I’m so enraged I’m about to lose the slither of restraint I have remaining.
“Go fuck yourself,” she snaps, trying to see past me to her precious soapie.
“Sloth is a deadly sin, Shauna.”
“I’m aware of that, Victor!” she shouts at me, finally giving me her full focus.
Smiling now, I ask softly, “Do you know why it’s a deadly sin?”
“Because god’s a wanker without hands, that’s why! He can’t jack himself off so he gets really bloody antsy with anyone who can!”
The sweet rhythm of my blood pumps a lullaby in my ears when I point the Glock at her. “Because his angels kill those who sin. You’re guilty of sloth and gluttony, punishable by death.” I pull the trigger without remorse, ridding the world of the despicable aberration and blasphemy.
He gave her life and he can take it away.
I am his right hand, the one sent to smite sinners, to clean this planet of their scourge.
Turning away, I leave. I have other homes, other lairs, ones she never knew about. I have a palace built of lies, but the truth is the only thing that can set us free.
Exiting our nest because there isn’t a single reason to stay, I know it’ll be months before her body is found.
She has no friends, no one will miss her.
God sure as hell won’t.
Vengeance is Mine, and retribution, In due time their foot will slip; For the day of their calamity is near, And the impending things are hastening upon them. (Deuteronomy 32:35)
I can’t change who I am. My only sin was attempting to.
Standing outside, breathing in the wonderful aura of crisp and clean air, it dawns on me: I’m forty-three years old and never had a virgin.
Surely the son of God should have a virgin?
How is it that I’ve lived this long and never had my God given right? He gave virgins to the tribes, allowed them to kidnap and assault virgins from all enemy territories, and yet he never gave me one! I’m insulted!
It’s simple really; common sense. Our father certainly is a medical man. If you screw a virgin you won’t be catching itchy crotch or dick cheese residue. Screw the undefiled and your sanctity will be preserved.
Smiling at the cosmos I burst out laughing. I never saw it, I was too busy chasing sinners. Now it’s time for me to find myself a pure vessel.
It’s time this angel got himself a virgin.