Confessions - A Story By Me ( First Version)

[gryphon]

This is the first version of this story. I am working on a newer version that makes large changes to almost every aspect of it and will be a far superior version.

I feel the dialouge is stilted and it has cliches and parts dont make sense but i still want to show it to all of you.






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Confessions

It was late Sunday night when Father Immanuel was leaving the church. He had delivered a long sermon on gambling and its evils, then set about organizing his routine for the next day, a task which tired him out as always, and was looking forward to a nice long sleep. He looked around the church and felt as lucky to have it as he always did. It was an early 19th century gothic structure, with stained glass windows that seemed almost alive when the lightning struck, which as luck would have it, happened earlier that night during an electrical storm. The expensive organ sat near the altar, ready to deliver the harmonious sounds that would inspire the congregation to sing out and let the Almighty hear their prayers, while the grotesques near the ceiling always held the children’s attention. Even when they were older and paying attention to the sermons, some would steal a glance their way.

He felt undeserving, not as good a servant of the Almighty as he could be. But he was only human after all, wasn’t he? And humans have weaknesses after all; weaknesses that must be overcome but that were there nonetheless.

As Father Immanuel was finishing his check of the church, there was a sharp knock, which took him by surprise. Everyone knew that he would normally be gone at this time. Anyone who came at this time was usually drunk, coming to the church since for whatever reason they all saw it as a beacon of hope in a world that had closed its doors on them.

When he opened the door, he found a man dressed in a black shirt and pants, with a baseball cap on. Though annoyed at this delay in his getting to sleep, Father Immanuel nonetheless decided to talk to this stranger, rather than turn him away.

“May I help you, my son?” he asked.

“I feel beyond help father,” He sighed. “I saw a car and wanted to be let into the church so I could say a prayer before I take this life.”

Upon hearing these words, Father Immanuel’s heart sank. A suicide, he thought, I must prevent it by any means.

“You must not take your life, for life is sacred to the Lord. Please come with me, I can get you some help.”

“As I said before Father, I am beyond help.”

“Please, let’s just talk this over, I’m sure you are just confused, and lost.”

The man stood there for a moment, lost in thought, before he spoke suddenly, startling the priest. “Father, I would like to make a confession.”

A confession, he thought, perhaps I can use this to change his mind. “Of course, come with me to the confessional, and I will listen.”

As they knelt in the confessional the man paused, unsure of himself for a moment, and then said, “I am not of your faith, father, so I hope you do not mind listening to my confession.”

“I do not mind at all, my son, though it might help if I knew your name.”

“My name is Stephan Schulz.”

“Thank you, my son. Stephan. Now, let us begin.”

“Forgive me, father, for I have sinned, I have taken money from men to perform acts that G-D would find abominable, and have taken pride in them. In some ways I do not regret them, but I feel weighed down, like they will tear me apart and rob me of my mind.” He spoke with a mournful tone, and seemed to be gasping for air every few minutes, as if this was an effort for him to say. Almost like he was letting go before allowing himself to fall.

Upon hearing these words Father Immanuel, thought to himself about what he was saying. He then decided that it was best for him to just come out and ask him about it.

“What is this horrible thing that you have done. my son? Nothing is too horrible as to strip a man from his right to forgiveness from the Lord”:

”Even if one had repeatedly violated his scared commandments, Father?” Father Immanuel paused upon hearing this, there was something about his tone that made the priest feel uneasy as if he was simply stopping his despair and mocking. No, not mocking, belittling. “I am not a good person, I am a killer.” His voice was so calm that the priest wasn’t sure if he had heard right. How could he say this so calmly when he had been so sad before? Then a thought crossed his mind, which chilled his soul. This man had not come here to kill himself, and was it possible he was simply a psychopath?

“My son, are you saying you have committed the sin of murder, and have profited from it?”

“It is something I have struggled with for some time, father. When I first started I did not feel any regret or remorse, after all money is money, a job is a job. True the job might be abhorrent to some but others find it useful. I would often kill people who others needed out of the way.”

“Like a cheating wife?”

“No Father, nothing like that, I always felt that was thug work, and for all my faults I am not and was never a thug’ He said with a sudden viciousness that left as soon as it came “I started small, but I was never a two-bit hit man. I was an assassin, and I was a damn good one. I worked my way up and became well known in my line of work.”

Father Immanuel wanted to ask him to wait where he was, so he could call the police and report this man. He wanted to turn him over, the rules of confession be damned, and, after all, hadn’t he said he was not a Catholic. But a feeling came over him, and he did not move. Instead he remembered his duty as a priest, but as he did he became curious, curious as to how he had done these deeds, and even though it made him feel unclean, he decided to ask how they were done.

As he began to open his mouth to ask this man and satisfy his curiosity, there was a loud boom outside. A thunderstorm was happening again and once more the lightning struck making the stained glass windows look alive. For a moment, Father Immanuel could almost see Saint Peter look at him then look away, like a bad omen which only served to put the priest more on edge. Nevertheless, he decided, against his better judgement, to ask the man and satisfy his curiosity.

“The hit on the lawyer was simple” the man responded, “ habits, that’s all. He always took a detour to avoid traffic during rush hour. I used a silencer and shot his tires as he went down a steep hill, he then lost control of the vehicle and crashed into a street post. He died on impact, and that was the beginning. Am I making you nervous, Father”, he added with somber tone.

As he said this, Father Immanuel noticed that he had changed completely from a man who had been depressed to a man who was in a very amused state in such a short time, which made him nervous. And yet, when he asked if he was making him nervous, the man seemed to go back to his earlier self. Father Immanuel’s earlier thoughts about this man being a psychopath came rushing back and his hair stood on edge.

“My son”, said the priest after a few minutes of tense silence, “when you said you had come to say a prayer before taking this life, were you speaking of suicide, or were you just coming here to kill someone and ease your mind about it?”

Upon hearing this, the young man laughed loudly, causing Father Immanuel to shuffle uncomfortably in his seat, and wonder if this man was in fact an assassin or simply unbalanced. And once again the thunder boomed outside, almost as if the Almighty was giving Father Immanuel a sign. From within the confessional he looked out and saw the grotesques near the ceiling and noticed that they seemed to be smiling almost. But that was impossible of course and he knew he must have imagined that, which worried him even more, given the situation. <o:p></o:p>
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“Father”, said the man who had called himself Stephan Schulz, with a sudden sharpness that caused the priest to jump in his seat, “what did you preach about today? The evils of gambling I believe. I wonder what your congregation would think if they knew about the horse track, or the dogs and chickens.” His tone quiet yet full of power, with a tone that seemed almost mocking yet at the same time wasn’t.

“What do you know about that?” Father Immanuel asked, frightened that his dark secrets had been exposed. The secrets he worked hard to hide and the secrets, which caused him to condemn others. As he said this, the thunder grew worse and the lighting more frequent; the storm was going to be a harsh one and there would be agony.

“I know enough, Father” Stephan said authoritatively, “ enough to know that you are in debt to some people who don’t like late payments”.

Upon hearing these words Father Immanuel screamed in his mind. The man hadn’t come to kill himself; he had come to kill the priest for not paying his debts. Father Immanuel panicked and couldn’t put words together to respond. And yet what was said next shocked him even more,

“ I could inform those people you have no intention of paying, or you can help me with my next job”.

“What are you talking about?!” screamed Father Immanuel, now totally lost in confusion.

“Maxwell Leigh is a member of your parish, isn’t he? I’ve been paid a considerable sum to see to it he doesn’t testify against his former employer. I know he is very religious, so you will call him and ask him to come to the church. Tell him it`s urgent. and he will no doubt rush over. It’s likely he will drive fast and given the thunderstorm outside, accidents can be expected. Hehehe,” he chuckled menacingly, “Going back to the beginning aren’t I? I guess we all do that sometimes.”

A million thoughts began rushing through Father Immanuel’s head as he tried to make sense of the situation, which was already out of his control. As he thought, another flash of lighting occurred and once more it looked to Father Immanuel as if Saint Peter was looking at him from the stained window. Inspired by this sight he made a quick decision about what to do.

“Get out of here, now!” he screamed at the man “ I have sinned with gambling but I would never allow myself to be a part of a murder. I won`t help you and I don’t care if I get killed, I’m calling the police to report you and Mr Leigh to warn him.”

The Priest expected to hear some more mocking from the hitman. Instead there was silence. He waited and waited but there was no response.

“Well, what are you waiting for!” he cried out.

The priest jumped as he heard the door to the church open and then close; wasn’t the hitman in the confessional? Wasting no time, Father Immanuel went to look and when he opened the part of the confessional the man was in, he found no one there. There was however an envelope and a letter.

His hands trembling from what he had experienced that night, Father Immanuel opened the letter and began to read.

“Father Immanuel,

I am sorry for the pain I caused you tonight. I did not come to cause grief but for two reasons. The first being that I had just come from a hit, and my profession had finally taken its toll on me mentally. Your church was near and I decided to come and make a confession to help ease my troubled mind. Incidentally, the man I killed was your debtor, so you are in the clear for the debts. His name by the by, was Stephan Schulz, you never met or heard of him, merely his middle management, so I took his name for when I came here.

The second reason however, is of a different nature. I became a hitman because of my past. Violence has always been a part of my life, and I will always be a monster of sorts. I see the troubled youth in this community and I always fear they will end up like me. So in this envelope you will find a large sum of money. I want you to use it to help these youths so they will be all right. I know I can trust you because I was testing you tonight and you came through for what was right. Help these people Father. And lastly, please get help for the gambling addiction; I don’t want to see a good man like you end up in a bad way, for you are a good man”

Sincerely,

A confessor”


After reading this note twice, Father Immanuel looked up and saw once more the image of Saint Peter looking at him, only now he could swear he saw the image smiling at him. He knew then he had been given a second chance and a sacred task, and he would not fail these youths, or himself.

Its odd he thought, how a murderer can make you revaluate your life.

And with that, Father Immanuel straightened a few small things then left the church, it was time for a long rest. <o:p></o:p>
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[Natalka]

Wow, how interesting! Douby interesting that you would choose to write from a different faith perspective, as well.
I like it; look forward to seeing what changes you already have in progress.
I'm wondering about the grotesques - I know what they are, and how you used that word to distinguish from gargoyles. However, I've never heard of them used in the interior of a Catholic church... but you are the one who has done the research!

[VeeVee]

Kept me interested! Good job Gryphon

[papillon]

I didn't expect to read to the end with my short attention span, but I found it interesting and kept reading til the end! Can't wait for another version

[gryphon]

Wow, how interesting! Douby interesting that you would choose to write from a different faith perspective, as well.
I like it; look forward to seeing what changes you already have in progress.
I'm wondering about the grotesques - I know what they are, and how you used that word to distinguish from gargoyles. However, I've never heard of them used in the interior of a Catholic church... but you are the one who has done the research!

actually i just made that up for the sake of the story

i didnt do that much research besides ask some catholic friends a cpouple of questions about the confession process. so anything else is my bad attempts. the grotesques didnt make it into the new version. actually the church didnt either as it takes place elsewhere.

[gryphon]

the next version will be very different

more of a deathbed confession
but with twists and turns thaty leave you guessing till the end muahahhahahahahahaha

[Woofy]

Wow... I loved the writing, gryphon!

The story is captivating!

I'm glad Ethan slept long enough for me to get through the story!

Great job!

[gryphon]

im glad it was liked


i have a lot pf problems with what i wrote though

[gryphon]

I didn't expect to read to the end with my short attention span, but I found it interesting and kept reading til the end! Can't wait for another version

im glad it was able to hold your attention

[Dee09]

Sure held my attention! There's a bit of a thunderstorm right now so I had some added 'atmosphere' lol

[gryphon]

Just an update.

I didnt get around to working on the next verison yet. But ive plotted it out and after I am done my essasys and exams, I will work on it.

[Natalka]

Hey, I just read it again, and liked it even more than the first time!

[Judstir]

Good story....can't wait for the next one.

[gryphon]

Version 2 will have a completley different theme, ending, characters and overall plot.

[gryphon]

Wow, I found this after some time, and I had completley forgotten about it and version 2. I should write that sometime soon.