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Chapter 11 - What the Hell Is God?

Chapter 11: What the Hell Is God?

The naïve young girl still tried to defend the priest, saying, “You’re mistaken! The priest was just trying to help me expel the demon inside my body.”

Hearing this, Rhodes glanced down at the innocent girl. There was not a shred of emotion on his cold face. There was no point in explaining things to someone so brainwashed by faith.

“Wait outside. I need to have a word with the priest.”

He’d have liked to speak to people calmly, truly. But his strength didn’t allow for that luxury. He didn’t get strong enough to have peaceful conversations with others. He became powerful enough so that others would have no choice but to speak to him respectfully.

The girl opened her mouth, wanting to say something. But she couldn’t last even three seconds under Rhodes’ oppressive gaze. Head bowed, she fled in panic.

So scary! His eyes were even more terrifying than a werewolf’s. Would the priest… really be okay?

Only two people remained inside the sealed chamber. Rhodes kept one hand in his pocket and calmly held up three fingers.

“Three questions. Firstly, where did you learn about how to deal with the werewolves?”

The priest’s face changed instantly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is a church. You are not in faith. I ask you to leave.”

Face dark with anger, the priest tried to drive Rhodes out.

BANG!

A gunshot rang out. The fierce priest collapsed to the ground, clutching his leg and wailing in pain, his terrified eyes staring at the strange black weapon in Rhodes’ hand.

The dark barrel still smoked faintly. A dangerous aura filled the room, making every hair on the priest’s body stand on end.

“I don’t like that answer. I’ll give you a chance to rephrase.”

Rhodes opened his revolver, let the five remaining bullets slide out, and put just one bullet back in the chamber.

“You have five chances to answer. For every wrong answer, I’ll pull the trigger once. Let’s see if your ‘God’ decides to protect you.”

Though Rhodes smiled faintly at the priest, he looked more like the devil himself. No… it was worse than any devil the priest had ever imagined.

“First question again, where did you learn how to deal with werewolves?”

Rhodes crouched before the priest; the cold barrel pressed against his forehead. Faced with death, the priest’s mind went blank. Cold sweat broke out across his brow as he frantically looked around, trying to think of an answer.

His patience was running thin as he started a countdown, “3… 2…”

“From God! It was divine revelation! He told me how to deal with werewolves through holy prophecy!”

The panicked priest blurted it out, hoping the same excuse that deceived the villagers would work on this devil.

“Is that so?”

Rhodes grinned, teeth shining coldly. Just as the priest thought he’d survived…

Click!

A chilling sound rang in his ears.

“You have four more tries. Think you’ll make it to the end?”

Rhodes still smiled lightly, but the priest had already wet himself.

“IT WAS THE VILLAGE CHIEF!” he screamed, face twisted in terror.

All his life, he’d tried to do good, to be a faithful servant of God, but he didn’t want to die like this. The thought of his head being blown open by that strange weapon shattered every defense he had.

“And why did he tell you?” Rhodes narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

If the method to fight werewolves came from the village chief, then what role did this sham of a priest have to play?

“Because I saw him… I saw him sneak out of the village at night and bring supplies back in!”

The priest glanced at Rhodes, too scared to lie again.

Bringing in supplies from outside? Now, that’s interesting.

Everyone in the village knew that stepping outside meant getting attacked by werewolves. So, how did the chief move safely as he pleased? And if he could, why the secrecy?

“Last question, how many people have you brought into this room?”

Rhodes looked around the dim chamber to satisfy his vile desires. The elaborate range of weapons and whatnot meant that this chamber has been in operation for quite some time. And this certainly wasn’t his first time.

“Ah?”

The priest was stunned. How could he remember? It’s been way too long.

Hearing no answers, Rhodes lowered the gun… and aimed between the priest’s legs.

BANG!

The scream that followed was worse than a dying pig’s.

“You should’ve chosen a better god. You had a one-in-five chance and still lost. The one you worship is not very reliable, huh.”

Rhodes shook his head at the blood-soaked priest. He hadn’t cheated. The gun actually only had one bullet. He gave the man a chance, but he just didn’t know how to use it. Rhodes turned around and left.

He himself used to be a Christian once. But he was, at his core, a complete egoist. If he worshiped anything, it was money and power.

God? What the hell is that supposed to be? If a god truly existed, why would the world be so full of suffering? And if that god’s purpose was to make people suffer so they could “find salvation” through pain… Then what’s the point of even existing? This world is already a swamp of misery. We don’t need some so-called “god” to add to the pain.