Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Blood Shed ❯ One-Shot

Blood Shed

He had wanted to visit the cathedral of Saint Patrick in New York, but that was far too public for what he was feeling now. He wanted the cavernous solemnity of a church, where he could feel his thoughts echo off the walls and up into heaven. He needed to think -- or to stop thinking, he wasn't quite sure which.

He managed to find a church that was open that night for confession. He crept into a back pew, and sat, head bowed. WIth a start, he realized that any priest that had any grip of sanity would think he was either delusional or someone playing a prank.

But, he needed to just talk to someone, someone who would listen to him with an understanding ear. He was pretty sure his new teammates wouldn't. They hadn't understood the care he had put into the investigation, and his reluctance to move forward until he had no doubts remaining in his mind of the situation. 'You're a priest', they had said. 'Shouldn't this be on your list of evil to oppose?' But this was far too grave to move rashly, and far more complicated than they seemed to make it.

He sighed, and knelt, aiming eyes skyward. Forgive me, Lord, for I fear I am about to sin. He didn't speak aloud, but did mouth the words of his silent prayer.

I was asked to work with a man called Leon, investigating crimes committed involving the supernatural. Our first case involves a string of murders. We traced them to four individuals who are sacrificing their victims to a dark goddess for creativity in their endeavors. We have no proof that would stand in a court of law, only that they are definitely tied to this goddess, and that the cause of death of each murder can be traced to a success in the life of a perpetrator. We know they will strike again tonight, during the full moon. My teammates want to get there beforehand and deal with the perpetrators before they kill again.

He found himself drawing the sword Katsuyama-sensei had given him as a parting gift, which he had learned to use for more than demonstration purposes when he had learned what really walked the streets. He let it rest on top of his hands, staring at his own image in the metal His teacher had told him it would be a light shining in the darkness for him. He certainly felt like he had found darkness now.

I am afraid, Lord. I know I cannot let an innocent die if I can help it. But, if it comes down to it, I do not know if I can let a guilty man die either. 'Thou shalt not kill' but it would be killing either way, wouldn't it? It doesn't say 'Thou shall not kill' unless the victim is not worth the oxygen he takes up'. Too many wars have been started by that line.

His fingers curled up around the sword. He let out a small gasp of pain as the blade cut into his hands. This is a sword. It is a weapon. Thus, I should never draw it against someone unless I intend to use it. I should never use it unless I am prepared to take a life if necessary. I say I carry it to defend myself, but I could do that with my hands alone, or a shinai.

He closed his eyes, head bowed. In the end, I know I don't have a choice. This will happen, whether I will it or not, as my teammates will carry it out. And, if we don't do something, more people will die. I can't let that happen. I won't. That would be wrong.

His eyes had been closed so tightly tears had formed in the corners. One ran down his cheek, splattering on the blood on his sword. He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face, feeling suddenly very self-conscious. He wiped his blade clean as well, and sheathed it. Blood and tears... Throw in sweat, and I will have officially worked too hard on this.

He stood up, straightening his shirt. O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended thee. I have sinned against you for whom I should love above all good things. I firmly resolve, with the help of thy grace, to confess my sins, to do penance, and amend my life. May you forgive what I am about to do, and help me forgive myself. Amen.