Unholy Trinity: Prayer, Sacrifice and Righteousness By Corinne Pollard

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.

Prayer

My pulse beats, quaking throughout my stilled body. Sweat pools as my mind seeks escape. Breathing is hard when a knife is close to my carotid arteries, but I know oxygen deprivation escalates panic.

I can’t look away as if I’d never seen a sharp knife before. One slip, and it’s over.

I remain kneeled, hands pressed in prayer, and await his instructions, but none come. I hadn’t moved or screamed. Did he want me begging for mercy?

The church is eerily silent. Then it came to me.

I bowed my head and prayed past the hot flash of agony.

Sacrifice

I am sorry, Doctor. I know I have done wrong. 

Yes, I am sorry. I never thought I would be capable of taking a life and it sickens me. 

I’ve tried, Doctor. I’ve tried to remember, but it’s just darkness. 

No, I don’t remember buying a knife. 

No, I don’t remember entering the church.

I was at the bookies, on a high, and a man with black eyes congratulated me. That’s it. I remember nothing else. Next thing I know, there’s blood, so much blood, and a voice laughing over my screams.

Who’s the voice? It sounded like yours, Doctor.

Righteousness

Pleased with his work, the doctor signed his clipboard. Then the clipboard vanished. Once he knew he was unseen inside his office, he stretched his limbs and shook out his decaying wings. His burnt bones rubbed painfully as his last remaining bloodied feathers blackened to ashes.   

“You can’t keep doing this, Uriel.” said the chalice on his shelf. 

The doctor chuckled.

“I am helping my father with righteous work. The woman had to prove herself. The gambler had to be punished, and you will return to Hell.”

“And blamed for your actions, of course.”

“Demons have to be evil, yes?”