Some of the Paragraphs got messed up. Other then that, its great!

Thanks Blaze, you gave me some great reading. I hope to see more.

That is real good reading. I look forward to another part

I'm back at school now, and the coursework has piled up on me, and I got Knights Of The Old Republic 2 to play. The updates may be a little sparse. Sorry. But once again, thanks for the compliments.

KEEP WRITING!

you've got me hooked you bastard now give me another shot !!!!!!

great job

dude!! wheres the next installment?! im dying to find out what happens next!!!

Uh...to be honest, I've kind of written myself into a hole. I'll try and update this week though (I finished Knights of the old republic 2 )

The preacher was a middle-aged man with black hair sprouting wildly from his head; he was dressed in the standard camp fatigues, and his priestly collar was evident around his neck. He was standing on top of the hood of a badly-damaged ford that was parked in the center of the ring of parked vehicles, preaching to the crowds of refugees that shied away from his ranting.

"....and you have no one but yourself to blame for this plague upon the land! As Soddam and Gamorrah were purged by the holy fire so shall this world of sin be cleansed by a plague! In the ancient land of Egypt the Lord did smite the heathens with seven plagues, and now in the modern world shall an eighth plague be set loose upon us! The plague of the dead is His judgement upon you! he ranted from atop his rusting pulpit. I stared across the huddled group of people who stood listening to his sermons, into the features of a mad-man. Perhaps the preacher was right, and this horror was the end of the world though I didnt see what made Heavensgate the place to start the apocalypse but he was clearly insane. His arms waved wildly as he pointed at the heavens, at the earth, as he pushed his arms against the thick smog of sin which cloaked this very camp. And his face

Before now, Ive never seen anyone who was truly crazy. Id seen the rambling derelicts of the homeless that wandered the streets, out of touch with the world they shambled through, and Id seen the wild dementia of the plague victims. But this was the first healthy person Id seen to have gone completely insane; Id seen people blow their own brains out, yes, but to be honest that seems like a sane approach. This was something else. The firm conviction in his voice as he accused the world of opening the gateway to satan, and the fierce snarl on his face as he spat his vitriolic words showed his insanity. As he ranted and raved most people near by hurried away from his sermon, but some stayed and watched. A few of the preachers congregation were obviously there for the spectacle, watching the crazed sermon of a madman with grim fascination just like me. Others, however, were standing with rapt stares and the empty expressions of the believers.

A woman in the small crowd broke down and started crying, begging for the preacher to take his words back. She wept, and sobbed that her baby had done nothing wrong, why had God taken him from her? Why had He punished the innocent? The only question that needed answering - why?

The preacher stopped his sermon and hopped down from the car. He strode towards the stricken woman, and grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, then pulled her hand into the air and studied the finger where a wedding band would have sat, though there was none. And then he said very clearly.
Your son was killed because of your sin. No one is innocent in His eyes, you have failed your son and failed the lord! She stopped crying and stared at him disbelievingly. And you have damned your child to walk the Earth in death! his voice was filled with a fury beyond his words. And the woman broke away from his grip with a cry, and staggered away.
Whore! Wretched beast! It is because of those like you that God has condemned Man! he spat at her back. His loathsome converts in the crowd echoed his cries, driving the poor woman to a stumbling run away from her persecutors.

I stepped forwards and tried to talk to her, to tell her to ignore his insane accusations, that her son was at peace even if his body was not. Words to make the pain go away. But as I came near her the grief on her face stopped me. This wasnt the dull loss that most of the refugees felt, it was the fresh pain and horror of a bereaved mother and the consuming guilt of a woman who believed that her actions had doomed her child. A sudden wave of anger at this madman who was he to judge? To force his crazed view of the tragedy onto others? To blame the innocent? And it appeared I was not alone in my anger; a big, broad-shouldered man who had been leaning against an RV started to yell at the self-styled prophet of Armageddon.

Who do you think you are? Just who the hell do you think you are?!? he shouted as he advanced towards the congregation. You aint got no call hurting that poor lady like that!" as he walked through the crowd, most of them parted. But several people blocked his path, and pushed him away.

"Leave Reverend Silas alone sinner!" one of them cried, a woman in her thirties. "The end of times is upon us and all must face their sins!"
"You're crazy!" he retorted, shaking his head disbelievingly, an angry grimace on his face. "This ain't anything to do with God. This is just a...a chemical spill or something. Some kind of terrorist attack. It aint the end of the world."
The followers of Silas pushed him away again, then Silas himself stepped forward to meet his detractor.

"The dead walk the earth and still you refuse to see? He has spoken to me, and told me of our crimes against the heavenly city. Heathen! Disbeliever!" Silas punctuated the last words by poking the man in the chest as he uttered them. The man scowled, then grabbed Silas's arm and twisted it. The reverend cried out in pain, then his follower's leapt to his aid. The big guy simply let the preacher go then his arm shot out again and grabbed the first of the group to attack him, then threw the man to the floor. He was about to lay into the rest of them when a gunshot rang through the air and halted everyone.

A pair of soldiers were standing nearby, one of them with his rifle aimed at the combatants and the other with a smoking pistol aimed into the air. The pistol-wielding one lowered the gun, then barked a quick order.
"Disperse or be dealt with." even through the muffle of the gas mask, the cold certainty of his voice could be heard. The big guy backed off, muttering under his breath, then stalked away from the group. The reverend pulled himself to his feet and began ranting again. He was halfway through his favourite word - Sin - when the soldier fired the gun into the air again. Silas stopped mid-rant.
"And no more of that shit. I've heard enough of that."

Silas nodded stiffly, then turned on his heel and stalked away towards the north end of the camp, away from the ring of vehicles. His followers followed, aptly enough. The soldiers stayed in place for a second, then turned away and resumed their patrol of the camp. I turned to head back to my tent when a hand fell on my back. I looked into the face of a kindly old man...who also bore a priest's collar. I prepared myself for another wrathful sermon.

"You must ignore Silas's words." his voice was sorrowful "This is not the rapture, or the end of times, at least not by God's hand. I'm afraid this ordeal has driven him insane."
"Yeah...I noticed." I mumbled, taken aback by his friendliness.
"Ah good, I see you have not been taken in like those poor souls who follow him."
"No, to be honest father I was never much of a believer."
The old reverend smiled and nodded. "But God loves you anyway."
I smiled back ruefully. "He's got a funny way of showing it." Before he could reply to that I asked him the question which had been burning in my mind since he first denied the claims of armageddon. "How come you don't agree with uh, Silas then? I have to say if I believed this would look an awful lot like the End."
"God would not unleash this plague upon his people. He would not punish us so."
"Well your friend is causing a lot of people a lot of pain with those words. He'll cause a panic if enough people listen to him."
"I fear you are right. What hope could we have if we believed his words? But he is not himself." The old man stopped for a second, and a look of pain crossed his face. "Silas saw his wife become infected, and return as one of those..." he searched for a word to describe the undead.
"Zombies." I supplied.
He looked shocked for a second, then nodded resignedly.
"I suppose it fits. When she died, he prayed for her to return to him. And when she did, and like that, he couldn't cope. It didn't take him long for his faith to be twisted by his suffering."
There was a moment of silence between us as I considered his word, then I stuck my hand out. "Well father, I'm Rick." I said as he took it in his own weathered palm.
"Robert Lewton. And don't call me father." the smile on his face took the barb from his words.
"I'm glad to see that not all the faithful have gone compeltely batshit insane" the words escaped my mouth before I thought about it. But Robert simply smiled sorrowfully, and nodded again.
"Well I can see you're not in need of spiritual aid my son."
"Hey, if I can't call you father..." I said jokingly. He smiled again, more authenticly, and nodded.
"God be with you then, Rick. Even if you don't want him."
"Thanks."
Robert patted me on the shoulder then moved off, in the direction the weeping woman had gone.

This post has been edited by TheBlazeUK on March 12, 2005 02:31 pm

Absolutely amazing. I'm loving every word of this story. Beautifully written.

So many people posting stories in the forums should go proffesional...i feel so...inferior to you and your buitiful stories. mine looks like crap compared to yours. ( topic N00bs can write stories to....)


Yes that is a complement

dude this is aweosome! keep up the good work!

Keep going with the story!!!!!!!

In the words of Homer Simpson - "I want to but I cant!"

I have like a ton of coursework to do over the next two weeks. But I will continue it. Sorry for my half-assed lazyness everyone.