Content Warning: suicidal ideation, brief mentions and implications of sexual assault, general mental instability, violence 

Author's Note: My characters are just that- characters. I don't condone murder, grooming, etc. This is me exploring the concept of evil through an unreliable and twisted protagonist. His views and actions are not my own. For the sake of my own boundaries, Seraphim was never a legal minor during the events discussed unless specified. This does not justify Auburn's actions, and he is a euphemism for authority figures who take advantage of others. Seraph is a metaphor for the naive, regardless of background. Inaccuracies and inconsistencies (for the most part) are intentional. The church, though themed off of Catholicism, is not actually Catholic. It has its own names and set of rules that will be revealed in due time. The setting is the Southwestern United States some anywhere between 1850-1950. Time is less rigid here.

A continuation of HELLO AUBURN: https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5334530

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[h3]Oh God, what have I done?[/h3]
I used to be a good priest. I never smoked and I never drank. I didn’t start swearing until now. As if any of that matters anymore. I’ve been ousted from my position by my own brother, who I am sure is not my brother anymore. Life is unnecessarily cruel. My name is Auburn. Three months ago, my life was perfect. I had just found the love of my life. Twilight in the desert… I can recall it as if it were a fresh dream. Vivid, but just out of touch. How I wish I could grab that memory again.

What was I doing there? Sitting beneath a willow tree with a young woman on my lap. The stars above reminded me of staring eyes, twinkling and blinking. Ogling at us, two people who should not have been together. My heart was torn. This was wrong, I had a wife I cared for dearly, but her...my dear Seraph. Whenever I looked at her, I just wanted to hold and protect her. I wanted to make her smile. When she was with me, I felt safe. I hope she felt the same. 

She felt something for me, I knew that. Perhaps for worse, she assured me. With her soft, sweet lips, she kissed mine. I don’t know why. I don’t know why she loved me, or why I loved her despite everything. This was a sin. I was going to go to hell, where Satan's cruel laughter would haunt me forever. I’m such a fool. This was an awful idea, yet it was all I wanted. I tried to hide the fact that my hands shook as I undid her blouse.

She asked me if this was a sin. It was, I knew it was. This was an insult to my priesthood, my family- everything...but I did not have the heart to tell her that. A god that saw a harmless act of intimacy as something to be ashamed of was not one I could follow. I don't think I've ever loved anybody like I loved her. Still, I knew the truth would scare her. I lied. I shook my head and told her the Lord would always forgive her, and that falling in love was natural, not a sin. It was a lie, but I think she believed me. She was so trusting like that, never doubting anything I ever said. 

Sex before marriage. Sex while married to another. Sex while a member of the clergy. We broke so many rules together. Underneath that willow tree I committed so many traitorous acts, it was disgusting. I have been told that I was disgusting for doing it. Maybe so. But I couldn't help myself around her. Precious thing… She was a virgin, destined to be until she found a man to wed and bear his children. I was not to be that man. I had a wife whom I married and bonded with before taking my title of priesthood. I would be lying if I said I maintained celibacy after the fact. Even before Seraph, I had been a lying, degenerate sinner. Perhaps that is why I so easily fell into temptation. 

I am impure. Very impure. Our goal at the cathedral was to maintain purity in order to enter heaven. Nobody was, though. Nobody except my dear Seraph, at least until she found me. She was beautiful, kind, and so, so gentle. I remember the feeling of her resting her head against my shoulder. She was so soft; I was in pure bliss while corrupting her. I was reckless, so very reckless. But isn’t that the nature of love? For you, my lovely Seraph, I would do anything. This was something I realized beneath the blooms of the desert willow where we first truly met.

Though that time beneath the willow tree was our first, it would not be our last. She would proclaim her love to me often, even if she’d sob afterwards. Poor girl. She’d weep into her hands about how we could never truly be together. The church. Her father. My wife. The All Father. Everything held us back. Perhaps it was a sign to give up- to repent. But I think I was too secular to do that, I still am. Even though she is dead and hates me, I love her. I cannot stop loving her. She occupies my thoughts and I shed tears at night. I miss her! I am entirely alone now. 

Come back, Seraphim, please- come back to me. I regret hurting you! I miss you and I love you. What I did was a terrible mistake, and you were forsaken… But you’re alive and well now, I do not know how, but it is both a blessing and a miracle. We can elope together! I will go back to that wretched place to retrieve you so that maybe…we can finally live in peace, together. Not with God, the church, or Satan himself telling us what to do. I can keep you safe from them I know how. I can rid them from our lives once and for all. I now know what I must do to save you, Seraphim…

In my time I have learned that gods, demons, and angels are one and the same. Primordial forces that predate human existence by an unfathomable amount. I don’t think I will ever understand their true natures, or why they plague my dreams…or plague poor Seraph with eternal torture. Enigmatic, but in a loathsome sense. When she died, I haven’t been able to look up at an angel with wonder ever since. I can’t understand them and sometimes they scare me, but they fear me just as much.

I’ve killed an angel before. Twice actually. First, it was my dear Seraphim. True angel or not, she was beauty and love personified. I placed my wretched hands to her neck and held her down until she stopped moving. I don’t know why I did this. For several days beforehand there had been inexplicable chatter in my head. Whispers, songs, chanting- all in a language I had never heard before. I thought I was going mad until a beast spoke to me at the altar. I don’t remember what it looked like aside from its pure white eyes. They were pools of radiance. Those eyes told me I had to take the life of my beloved.

My respect for the divine at that time- and even now, is low. But as I said, I fear them. I feared them much more at the beginning, too. Angel, demon, or maybe God himself? The semantics are unimportant, as they are all sides of the same construct. It only introduced itself as an angel, and every night it would whisper into my ear and tell me to kill Seraphim. She was to, according to this beast, birth a monster into this world. The consequences of our actions. A creature that would burn the cathedral’s holy walls to the ground with the power of the Devil. And for that, I was tasked with smiting it.

I dreamt of ash and smoke. I woke up with the taste of cinders clinging to my tongue. I drank water and kissed the lips of Seraph to wash it away, but brimstone has a vile aftertaste. The chatter grew louder the more I drank. I, still holding onto the idea that I was a servant of the Lord, did what I was told. I was and am a fool. I know now that was a lie. Seraph never carried a child. I strangled a beautiful girl all so she could become the very creature that angel prophesied to me about. The idea that Seraphim was pregnant with Armageddon itself was purely figurative. She carried hell, or the potential for it, like a mother with a fetus. Still, it did not literally rest within her womb. I only buried one body beneath the willow tree that night. The place where this alleged monster was conceived. And it was, but not those months ago. 

It was not long after I killed my second angel. I feel rage, as I am human. Venomous hatred has seeped into the very core of my being. If the Lord, if he even cared to look down upon us, granted me the ability to smite- I was going to use it. I made it my quest to hunt White-eyed beast of half-truths and false promises… How does one kill a literal angel? The easiest way would be to be another angel, or god himself. I am no angel. I’m not even good enough to rise as a saint. My bones will rot in the dirt, and my soul will most likely…well, I hope it finds a place to rot, too. That is to say if souls even exist. 

I have been questioning a lot lately. I question if hell even exists. The nature of the holy and unholy is unintelligible. If I am honest, I am more at peace with the concept of ceasing to exist after death than the idea of an afterlife. I doubt I am worthy of one, anyway. I am a tired man. Part of me yearns for eternal slumber. The only thing that anchors me to this physical world is Seraph. Her and only her. If it wasn’t for her talons gripping onto my heart, I would’ve taken the revolver I keep by my bedside and put the barrel to my head already.

The tragedy of Seraph’s demise proved nothing about the existence of hell because I know it was demons that brought her back. She never spoke of it, though. When she rose from the grave like Christ from his tomb, I wanted to know why and where she’d been. She…was not keen on speaking to me. Poor thing. I’d never seen her look so terrified of me before. I don’t want her to look at me ever again. That is why I must save her.

Angels and demons can be killed with magic. Maybe God as well, if he isn’t dead already. At this point, all three of them are indistinguishable. Synonyms of words that lack any true meaning anymore. I digress. My first step in returning Seraph back to me was killing Demon Eyes. The damn beast lied to me! It told me that Seraph carried the Antichrist. I was such a fool. I do not know the intricacies of Enochian magic, but it used it to revive her with a crown made of desert willow. It turned her into the harbinger of the apocalypse. I swear I'll burn that tree down when I return! I may as well set the entire church ablaze… My work is cut out for me. It seems it always has been.

Was this entirely my fault? Maybe… Partially, in a way, I was the catalyst. Still, I was not the one who wired a bomb. I was just tricked into lighting the fuse. So, who is really at fault here? Me, or the demons? I’ll pay my price, but I also seek justice like my brethren at the commune. I did, anyway… I gave them justice. I KILLED Demon Eyes. It’s not my fault it came back. It’s not my fault they’re making Seraphim lie. It’s not my fault- It’s not my goddamned fault! They’re blinded by rage, and maybe I am, too! But at least I’m not a servant of the Devil!

I have a gun in my hand and matches in the other.