Wax

WAX

White, all white - that was the paint on the wall; the tile on the floor, and the pane on the room’s rectangular window. It transformed the environment in every single room - every single dimension where one viewed, shown the void color. The color of white was the sensation of suffering, and a visualized mere of an arising death. Upon it being the last known remembrance for the dying eye.

A perpetrator came periodically, dressed for the crime, blended in with the pallid shadows of the white room. It was a man who gave the sweeping touch to the flesh like wind - and disappeared, as if he was never in presence. Furthermore, a pale ghost with black, untold secrets, dark enough to cast a cold shade - for which it protected him - his detection, by guarding the white once his light entered the night.

The emphasis of his deceitful style, burned to a success, as if a fire ignited. Ignition, which made the wick on the candle shorten - a dripped, stream of wax from the usage, flowing down the narrow body of the candlestick. Once the melting hardened, a solid state of wax laid rest on the bottom of the candle and created a protective shell. Darkness surrounded the man, just like the wax, once the fire vanished from the wick.

An elderly woman awoken from a slumber of unknown causes - a dream portrayed itself as a nightmare to her mind, and sustained to her perspective. It gave a warm feeling to her aspect of the white room. A feeling she thought of as peace and happiness; a feeling she had never felt before in her life until now.

To the far corner of the white room, she spotted a dark speck from where she stood, still, and full of confusion. The dark speck grew larger and expanded its area within seconds. She moved closer to the speck because something in her told her to move closer - something that whispered in the corner of her narrow shoulders, into her shriveled ears. It was something she could not translate once it spoke - but she knew what it wanted from her. Someone had told her.

The elderly woman began to walk to the dark speck. She could feel him right behind her, following every step she took, not letting an eye disappear from her appearance. Her footsteps were slow at first, but suddenly increased when she felt the floor vibrate below her feet. She could feel the presence - the urging rush of adrenaline pumped her feet to a quicker, balanced pace. That reaction caused him to imitate her movement, as if he was her own shadow following where she went in any direction. A guardian angel he had become, watching over her, and protecting her, and caring for her like a loving mother would do for her dying child. She was dependent on him to guide her throughout the white room; she was dying inside, and he knew. She belonged to him now.

The pale ghost was property of one man; one man the entire Society listened to when his words of wisdom spoke. His words made them bow before him, and instructed them to follow his only wish - the wish to eradicate and to forget. The person known to the Society, as a pastor, who gave out his prior knowledge and helped the fellow members of the Society adjust to a new life. His name was Lincoln Reeves - just an ordinary name given to him after birth - but once he originated the Society - they gave him a new name and a new identity. Lincoln Reeves became a new man to the Society. A man named Jesus Christ.

That was what they called him, Jesus Christ. Lincoln Reeves was no different compared to an average person on the street, but once he gained acceptance and formed the Society, he became more than just a man. He became a never-ending legend, whose name would flourish by the future generations of the members in the Society. A legend that would never be replaced, and never forgotten by his followers and his enemies.

The Society followed the strength inside his words and with it - used the force to journey out to obey his deed until the satisfactory of his need, was near completion. He wanted nothing else besides to rule a new world, and to become the one who cleansed the Earth from unwanted filth and upcoming destruction. And to complete his wants - the Society had to make a lifetime commitment. Every member had to sign their loyalty on the legislation, using their own blood. They risked their lives for the laws in the Society; if, by any way, one member presented treachery, their heads were placed under the guillotine of the executioner, and then removed. Their lives’ destroyed, and, finally, their souls’ were took.

As everything was in perfect order, Jesus Christ called upon the Society to a meeting. It was in an abandoned warehouse located in the industrial district of Kirtport, New Jersey. Everybody took their seats - no one absent, and no one from the outside made their way into the meeting. It was top secret - too secret for anyone to tell; only a select few members knew where the meeting place was held. The rest followed the markings of blood, symbolized in the underground tunnels, leading to the warehouse. Once they all shown, they sat and waited for Jesus Christ to make his appearance.

The patience continued for several minutes. Silence roamed the meeting, and all eyes directed their attention to the center of the stage. There stood a wooden podium, facing the audience, waiting for a preacher to come visit and speak the words. The words they all needed to hear - for the gaining of their wanted strength and curious aptitude. It was words of the truth.

His presence was elsewhere in the warehouse. Hidden behind violet curtains - a man of old age sat unconscious in a wheelchair, while Jesus Christ spoke into his ear, behind him. “I love you grandfather, but you need to end. It is the best for everything. I am not sorry.” As his last word spoke, Jesus Christ quickly took off his grandfather’s belt, and wrapped it around his grandfather’s neck. He tightened the belt and pull on it until his grandfather awoken. “Ahhh, wha-” he coughed. “Wha- what are you doing, Lincoln?” He started to cry. “Your time has come, grandfather. I have to put you down for the new world. A new and ’improved’ world.” Jesus Christ continued the strangulation, as his grandfather struggled to break free and to breathe once more. The wheelchair lifted up, and knocked his grandfather to the floor. This did not stop Jesus Christ - he viciously progressed on with the asphyxiation, until he came to the verge of breaking his grandfather’s neck. Upon doing so, Jesus Christ wiped the sweat off his forehead and changed into his attire. He wore a scarlet coat of cloth with a silk white scarf, which hung around his neck. There was a symbol shown on the scarf. It was a symbol of a black hand missing its ring finger. Jesus Christ was about to introduce the symbol to the Society. It would be the symbol of the new and improved world.

“Not bad - not bad at all, grandfather.” He saw the Birthday cake on his dresser. It was from his grandfather, and it said: “Happy Birthday Lincoln. Love you!” written in turquoise. “It is a little rich, but delicious.” He said, licking the frosting off his finger. “How did you know I liked chocolate? Ha - it does not matter. I have a meeting to attain to. Have a nice sleep, grandfather. You may be alone now, but grandmother will be holding your hand once again. I promise.” Then he disappeared out of the violet curtains, into the darkness of the warehouse.

It was quiet. The whole room resembled a lonely man in another dimension - soundlessness, but awake, anticipating for his arrival. Once he stepped out on the stage - the silence continued. He slowly walked with a red blanket covering his face like a mask. The altar candles on the wall ignited to an arising flame, causing some to cringe in fear. The time he reached the podium - the wall behind him raised like the morning sun, as the room that appeared, shun a bright light into the eyes of the audience. In the room, it showed an all white environment. An elderly woman wearing a vivid colored dress paced herself very calmly to the other side of the white room. Behind her, some could openly spot out a figure closely to her, mimicking every move she took. He was like a ghost - too complicated to fully visualize, but his whereabouts in the room, were exactly known. The Society sat and watched as the man followed the elderly woman to a dark speck on the floor of the room. They wondered if the woman could see them all through the large window, but she could not. Light only passed into the white room, so if the woman looked at the window - it would be as if she was starring at a mirror. A mirror that shown the reflection of herself and the pale ghost walking towards her. She saw him - his pale skin absorbed the light in the room, and bounced into her vision, granting her blindness. The effect made her to tumble to the floor - a floor covered in a dark, gooey, organic substance. Her screams were heard by the Society, as they watched the elderly woman roll around the floor, as hot tar covered her whole body. The pale ghost just stood there, empty with emotion, and a face so blank - it looked erased.

The hot tar molten her eyelids shut, and seeped into her skin pores, steaming out all the oxygen in her lungs that was left from the excessive screaming. Jesus Christ smiled at the scene through the red blanket - and all of a sudden - the rest of the audience started applauding. They stood up and began cheering and asking for more. Jesus Christ told them to be calm, as he lifted the red blanket off his face. He looked, and watched as the pale ghost drifted off, out of the white room. His deed was done.

“Brothers and sisters, welcome to the Society!” They all cheered on some more as Jesus Christ began his speech. “I gathered you here this evening, for one reason - acceptance. You may all be a part of this family, but can you be loyal, can you honor the Society, and most importantly, can you accept me as your father - Jesus Christ? If you can, then bless your heart, and stain your minds with the domination I will present to you. It is an operation - a task no other but the society can handle. Tasks so powerful that some outsiders will most certainly call us monsters - the filth of the land, and the scoundrels of the underworld. My children - here tonight, I give you a new life - a life that will promise accomplishments - a new life that will make the ones you live, transformed, but improved. Where you are seated, lays a sharpened dagger below the seat. Retrieve that dagger, and begin your new life. The dagger shows a symbol of a black hand - look at it - remember it - live by it. It is the symbol of your new life - a symbol that will guide you to become a true brother or sister in the Society. To become a true brother or sister - one has to sacrifice his or her ring finger, on a preferred hand. Use the dagger to perform the sacrifice, and place your offering in the bowl below your seat.” Each member of the Society began to sacrifice the ring finger on one hand.

Screams and shouts could have been heard from outside of the warehouse. Jesus Christ watched as their blood spilled to the floor, and their faces squirm to the self-infliction. Some members finished their sacrifice early than others and laughed at the remaining. One woman had her ring finger cut halfway, and stopped. “I can’t do it anymore. It hurts too badly!” She yelled “Then you shall die.” Jesus Christ pointed a finger at her. A group of members ran to her and began to stab her with their new daggers. Their obedience was extraordinary, as they followed Jesus Christ’s command. He ordered them to disembowel the woman and hang her intestines around themselves. All was done, without question or hesitation, because the words Jesus Christ spoke were spiritual and meaningful when it came to the truth.

Once the sacrifice ended - each member placed their severed finger in their bowl and passed them up the crowd, all the way, until Jesus Christ collected all the bowls. “Good” He placed the fingers in a chrome pot of boiled water, and continued his speech. “Your offering will be repayed with a new gift - but for you to receive that gift - you must gain acceptance. In order to gain acceptance, you must follow my instructed plan of eradication. An eradication of the elderly population. This is why some will call us scum, but please understand. The elderly have lived their lives, and are incapable of working from the conditions they are in. Some may called it genocide or ageism - but what I like to call it, is a wax. A wax that will clean off the unwanted, to allow a new generation of lives to start. A new and improved life. I will demonstrate what you will have to do with your dagger.”

A man came out with the demonstration. It was an elderly man, naked, and with a bag over his head. “Watch and learn.” Jesus Christ pulled a dagger out of his sleeve and spun his body around in a full revolution. Once his spinning came back around and faced the elderly man - Jesus Christ slashed the dagger across his throat. The blood squirted out and doused the flame on each candle. Complete darkness followed; only occurrence worth paying attention to, was the sound of the elderly man’s body dropping down on the stage. Then, a moment passed - and then there was light. The chrome pot on the stage burst to a growing flame, and with it, cries of spirits filtered the air, along with the black, contaminated smoke from the fire. The Society breathed in the smoke - and sat back and listened to Jesus Christ.

“In this pot, contains the offerings of yourself, and your brothers and sisters. The ring fingers are now boiling as I speak, and your engangement has begun. It is now for the marriage - it is now for you to make a life time commitment to the Society.” Jesus Christ walked over to the chrome pot, and held out his arm. He lifted the sleeve up, took his dagger, and slit vertically down his wrist. “Here you see the blood of myself. It is the blood that will flow through your veins, and pump out your heart.” The fire slowly shrank as the blood dripped down the cut on his wrist. “My blood is what makes me who I am. It makes my soul, my spirit, and my body. Drink my blood, children. Drink and you will find true dignity. It will make you see the vision I see. My blood will bring a new life.” Jesus Christ used a ladle to pour the drink into small cups. His blood mixed with the boiling water to make the special drink. The drink that would define their new lives in the Society.

As they drank - their minds began expanding to a newly, imaginative universe. They felt the mind-altering effects, and it spoke a voice. Individuals in the Society had a separate voice - a voice that told them all the same command - to eradicate and to forget. They all stood at the same time, and poured out the warehouse, going to a specific direction. No one spoke, and none of them thought of anything different besides what the voice had told them. Jesus Christ walked out of the warehouse and watched. He watched all his children with a smile on his face. His plan had begun.

He walked down that dark tunnel with his head hanging low. The shadow behind him follwed every step he made, and guided a path. A path that would bring light back to his empty eyes, and soar down a knife to his beating heart. For he lived a life of eternity - he was a father in disguise - a pale ghost, watching and protecting his son, until a new age of life came for all. The white that covered his appearance gave him strength and the will power to continue through the blackest of all night. As he was not only a man - but a light on the wick of a candle, giving brightness to the ones below. The ones down below, studied him, and loved him - for they could not wait to be with him after their passing. Until then, his follwers swarmed and surrounded him like a wax. To them - he was not just a man. He was God.