Unholy Trinity – Let’s Trip

Our church worships at the altar of the Unholy Trinity. Its gospels are delivered as a trio of dark drabbles, linked so that Three become One. All hail the power of the Three.

MIZARU – BIRTH.

What happened to the mute girl was unspeakable.

A brother discovered her, sprawled upon the monastery steps.

Sanctuary and time allowed broken bones to heal; her slowly expanding belly speaking volumes regarding what had been endured.

When the time came, she mimed silent screams as she pushed the bastard out into this world.

One. Another. Then one more.

Leaving her to gaze upon the brood, the monks huddled, unsure of such portents.

Until the infants wailing ceased. Concerned, they returned.

To watch the babes suckle upon the bloody trickle that ran from the sockets where their mother had no eyes.

KIKAZARU – LIFE.

Of the three children, there was no doubting who was leader. First to draw breath, guiding his siblings, choosing what path they walked.

In his eyes, they were alike, both in skin and what lay beneath, and inside this unity lay their strength.

One heart, mind and soul.

So, when two happened upon the third, hands trembling, blue faced beauty lying at his feet, the eldest knew the sin had to be shared.

Crying tears of relief, the youngest took to the shadows, hands clasped to head, drowning out the sound.

As the boys each did one of their own.

IWAZARU – DEATH.

Those in the middle can see in both directions, he whispered, taking his seat.

Decades had passed since they had broken bread; each brother’s existence an escape from the shade of the others.

He had heard talk of their sins. The eldest, greedy and ruthless, fortune built upon the cruellest exploitations. The youngest, driven by lust, defined by violence.

Studies taught him of the shark; how their foetuses feast upon one another within the womb.

Savouring his first bite of meat, he gave thanks that he finally could have his family for dinner.

Then promised he’d never mention them again.