Immortal Confessions

Marie Antoinette's execution in 1793 at the Pl...
Marie Antoinette’s execution in 1793 at the Place de la Révolution (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

In a Confessional Booth in Europe, a  well dressed man takes his place, hoping to lighten his burden, with his confession,

 

 

 

“ Forgive me , Father For I have sinned.”

 

 

 

“ How long has it been since your last confession?”

 

 

 

“ Two Thousand Years.”

 

 

 

“ You must have much to get off your chest.”

 

 

 

“Ahh yes, Father, But where do I begin?”

 

 

 

“ Where ever you see fit, My Son.”

 

 

 

“ Perhaps I should start from the beginning.”

 

 

 

“ Always a good place to start, My Son.”

 

 

 

The  Confession  Begins

 

 

 

 

 

My first transgression and probably the biggest was not allowing The Master  to pass. For this Sin I was cursed to wait for him just as I had made him wait.  I have struggled to make right the wrong I committed in his face ever since.

 

 

 

I journeyed to Italy where I met up with Constantinople  and spread word of The Master to his people there. Together we blended Pagan Holidays with Christian Ones all to convert his people to Christianity.  I have always thought that the more souls I converted to The Master’s way of thinking , the lighter my burden would be. Together we helped the world to celebrate The Fertility Festival of Esther by Renaming it Easter for My Master. Celebrating  the renewal and resurrection of life.  This made many souls convert to the Master.  Still he had no sympathy for me.

 

 

 

I journeyed on to the East. I met up with a Count named Vladimir. I taught him all about Passing the Chalice in remembrance of Him.  We would pass blood in the chalice and drink in honor of The Master. This became somewhat of a daily ritual for the Count and I. Things seemed to be getting out of hand as The Count developed a taste for blood, or rather a Lust for it. Many were slain to whet his appetite.  I soon realized that I had created a monster In Count Vlad, and left.

 

 

 

I wanted so terribly to convert souls for The Master. I found myself in England, and had taken on the title of Count as to move in the influential circles. I knew that something rash had to be done to meet the level of conversion I was seeking. At a gathering one evening I suggested that all  Faiths be forced to denounce their Religious Beliefs and Proclaim themselves as Followers of The Master. They agreed with me, there was far too much hedonism going on in England and Europe, for that matter. A Board of Inquisition was formed to carry out the details. They would convert or be tortured, some even put to death. Death in the name of The Master. Surely this would please My Lord, I thought.   I wandered still.

 

 

 

I did pretty much the same thing in Spain years later. Blood was shed in the hopes of finding Divine Forgiveness. No Religious entity was spared during The Spanish Inquisition. Torture and Death came to those who would not convert. It seemed such a small price to pay to convert souls to the Master’s Ways.

 

 

 

I took refuge in a monastery for a short time. My guilt and shame were overwhelming. I carried with me a whip and began to self flagellate.  With each crack of the whip my burdens would be lightened for awhile. I told myself that I was suffering for The Master. During one of My sessions a Fellow Brother in the Order walked in on me. He thought that what I was doing was exceptional and spread the news to the rest of The Order.  They adopted Self flagellation as a way of penance also, and practice it to this day.  I left the monastery and moved on with my travels.

 

 

 

I met a writer and introduced him to the way of the whip, He used it for a conversion of another sort. I must admit that I became fascinated with his lifestyle, and did partake in the ways of using the whip for carnal satisfaction.. Taking pleasure from cracking the whip on the tender flesh of young men and women. It reminded me of earlier days when slavery was not forbidden.  A time when slaves obeyed your every word, with out question. I was not proud of myself during this point in time. The Marquis and I used up many girls. He was declared insane for his writings as they spread. They jailed him, and I moved on.

 

 

 

 

 

I also managed to fall in love, albeit an adulterous affair, I did love My French Queen, Marie Antoinette.  Her husband was far too busy with little things like conquering territories for France to notice her, or appreciate her for that matter. I was smitten with her style and grace, and it was love at first sight.  We would sneak off for picnics in the woods, where we would delight in the sweet rapture of eachother’s flesh.  I encouraged her every whim and indulgence, letting her know that she was due any decadence that her title bestowed upon her.

 

 

 

At her insistence I advised her husband on matters of their kingdom. I encouraged him to put his family above all else and deny them nothing. I was determined to make sure that My Queen had everything that her heart desired. This however caused a stirring among their subjects as they went mad with envy. A Revolution ensued, and My Queen lost her kingdom, and her head I am afraid due to a violent uprising.  Heartbroken I traveled East.

 

 

 

 

 

It was awhile before I showed myself again. This time I thought my cause to be worthy. I stumbled upon an unlikely prophet named Rasputin. Under my wing, he likened himself to the Tsars of Russia. I instilled the love of spreading divine inspiration into Rasputin. Although at one point he felt his gifts were the product of demonic possession, I was able to convince him that his talents were God Given and that it was his duty to share his knowledge with The Tsars.

 

 

 

The Tsars , however,  moved in an élite circle that were reluctant to accept Rasputin due to his humble appearance.  I taught Rasputin that you drive out sin with sin, and he was dubbed “The Wandering Holy Man”. I was very proud of him and the way he was able to endear himself to The Romanov  Family.  The Tsars truly believed that Rasputin was sent to them by God.  If only they had listened to him when he foretold of their death, but Royal families tend to believe that they are infinitely immortal. This however was not the case , and The Royal Romanov family were forced to abdicate their throne, were exiled and eventually put to death by A Revolutionary Party who came into power after The Tsar had not followed the advisement of Rasputin and lost a key battle , which his countrymen viewed as a sign of weakness in The System ran by The Monarchs.

 

 

 

I took some time off to collect my thoughts and think of a way that I could I best serve My Master the next time the opportunity made itself aware to me. I remember it as if it were yesterday, a young German Soldier was sitting in a coffee house in Berlin speaking of escalating tensions within their country, and of a young leader named Hitler who was speaking later that night. I decided there and then that I would help Hitler, and draw myself closer to The Master.

 

 

 

I knew that The Master was betrayed by his own people, just as he must have felt a betrayal by me. During this period The Jews had rose to great wealth and power , just as they had during The Master’s time. Germany was their new Rome. I would remind  Hitler of their betrayal and of their call for execution upon The Master, which led me to my predicament.

 

 

 

The argument that The Master’s Death was reason enough to justify a no holds barred assault on The Jewish Community  was swallowed very easily. I honestly believe The Germans were looking for any reason they could to exterminate the Jews, perhaps I just helped them along. I honestly had no idea to the extent to which they would go. I had opened a whole new can of worms, and gave the phrase an eye for an eye a whole new meaning. I became quite ashamed of myself , indeed. I knew that The Master would not be pleased with this one at all. Once again I had failed miserably.

 

 

 

Here we are back where we began, I wander, waiting, watching as man continues to commit atrocities in The name of The Master, awaiting his return. Idle time really is The Devil’s Backyard and I have played their for centuries

 

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