Featured Writer: Grant Miller

Confession

Father Shea ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, drawing out beads of sweat.The confessional was hot, but this Saturday's work was half done.The last of the children had toddled away, wiping away tears after confessing the mortal sin of pulling his sister's pigtails.The priest had assured him that was not a Hell-worthy trespass, and asked if he knew the Lord's Prayer.He almost laughed out loud when the boy blurted out "By King Kong, thywillbedone," but stifled his amusement and helped the child through the recitation.Father Shea assigned a few "Our Fathers" as penance and set the boy on his way.He was cute, but the priest looked forward to the juicier adult confessions.He patted down his robes and brushed his fingers over his crucifix.

The first adult entered, sighed, and took a seat.Father Shea noted this as a sign that the man had not sinned heavily since his last confession; the truly repentant always kneeled on the padded rest before the screen.The priest squinted and, through the screen, saw a pale-faced man in a muted suit.The adults usually started the ritual on their own, but this person merely fidgeted.Father Shea spoke first.

"May God, who has enlightened every heart, help you to know your sins and trust in His mercy."

"Amen," the shape softly returned.Father Shea guessed him to be in his early thirties.After a pause, the man made the sign of the cross and continued.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.It has been three weeks since my last confession.I have felt envy and lust toward some of my coworkers, although not both at the same ones.I have taken the Lord's name in vain, although I really didn't mean to.It just sort of slipped out after I got some bad news.And, of course, there was the murder."

Father Shea had been nodding along as the man listed his sins, but then he froze."What was the last one?" he asked, clearing his throat.

"A killing.Is there any chance that it could be classified as a venial sin?You know, extenuating circumstances or something?"

"Murder, if it is such, is usually a mortal sin.Tell me of the circumstances.Was it premeditated?"

"It was, Father.But it was also a form of defense."

"Go on.Tell me about the victim."

"An evil man who threatened a loved one.I looked for an alternative, prayed for it…but in the end, I saw no other way.Is my soul lost, Father?"

"What you did is serious, a mortal sin to be sure."

"Then I am condemned to Hell."

"No, not true.You have confessed your sin to me, in the presence of Almighty God.Are you truly remorseful for your sin?"

"Yes, Father.Truly.I wish things were different, but…"

"Do you truly intend never to harm another person, so long as you live?"

"I swear it, Father.With God's grace, I will never harm another person."

"Then God will forgive your sins, no matter how grave.Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good."

"For His mercy endures forever," the man replies, giving the standard response."Do you forgive me, Father?"

"Eh?Only the Lord can forgive your sins."

"But, do you forgive me, Father?"He leaned closer to the screen."Please.It's important to me."

Father Shea considered this breach of protocol for a moment, then thought of the desperation in the man's voice.He decided it could do no real harm.

"Yes, my son.I forgive you as well."

The man breathed relief into the air."Thank you, Father.Now I want to give you something in return."

"It's not necessary," Father Shea said.Trying to lighten the odd mood he added "My part of the Rite of Reconciliation comes with the robes."

Now the man abandoned his seat and knelt before the screen."I will help you now, Father, in return for your forgiveness.I will prevent you from future sins.May God have mercy on your soul.You'll never touch my son again, you sick son of a bitch."

Father Shea didn't know how to respond.Anger for being profaned?Sorrow for his sins?Guilt for being caught?His brain groped for something tangible on which to focus, and found a silver cylinder with a dark opening pointed at him from the other side of the screen.The dark opening frightened him somehow, as if it were the maw of a beast or the entrance to a haunted cave.

"Is that…" he began, but the roar of a .44 magnum hollow point ended his questions.The top of his head disappeared along with a portion of the confessional's roof.Bits of red and gray dripped in the eerie silence that followed the blast, a silence soon ended by the screams of the parishioners.



Grant Miller is a former U. S. Army Infantryman turned corporate drone, so he has a lot of time to dream. Since becoming serious about his craft, he has had two stories published in e-zines: "Locus of Control" (Science Fiction) in Eclipse Magazine (http://eclipsemagazine.tripod.com/),September 2001 and "Master Bedroom" (Horror) in Dark Moon Rising (http://www.darkmoonrising.com/), November 2001.

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