Madame Musicmouth Part 2: The Diary of a Cherub

April 19th

My name is Carl Whitlock, 37, white male. Convict.

It’s been my third month here. All in all, things could be worse. If anything, the guilt I feel is worse than these concrete walls, but what can I do about it now, eh? It’s all done, and I can’t take it back.

Monica. I wish I could say, “I never lay a finger on her,” but that’s hardly the truth. The truth was, I was angry. And I do things when I’m angry. Things I regret and things we both would rather not think about. I wish I could say sorry, but that’s not going to be good enough. I wish I could take back what I did to her, but you can’t take anything like that back. Now, all I can think about is her huddled in the shower, crying and cursing my name.

The law sucks, it really does. I’m not a good man, I’ll admit it right now, but one whole fucking year for what I did? A shitbag like me deserves to rot, I can see that now. But here I am, nine whole months until probation, then I can walk free to hurt more people, and have my name down on some fucking list so no one will ever trust me again.

There, I got most of my thoughts out of the way. Now I wanna talk about why I’m writing in a fucking diary like some teenage girl.

I’ve been signed up with a bunch of other poor saps in this “rehabilitation” service or some shit like that. Someone to sit us in a circle like we’re at school and tell us what awful people we are and how we can better ourselves. Then maybe educate us on rights and wrongs and stuff like that.

But when I attended, who I saw leading this program was unexpected.

This beautiful blonde babe with this cute little pink flower in her hair was running the show. She called herself “Clarisse Delacroix”, a cute French gal, accompanied by this weird older guy with a curly mustache and this really pale face. At first, I was like “There’s no way she’s in charge. She looks way too young. And in a place like this with hardened criminals? Someone must be pulling our leg.”

Then she spoke. And instantly, she had us all hooked.

I can’t really explain why. I guess it was how…articulate she was? And how confident, too. Plus, her voice was as smooth as butter. Smoother. I could feel this tingling sensation run down my neck as she spoke. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who felt it.

She explained to us that she knew of some techniques that would help us reflect on the bad shit we did, like this diary, for example. She also told us that the pale guy with her was an ex-con who apparently committed some kind of manslaughter? I don’t remember the details, but the guy was off-putting. He was about in his 60’s yet was built like a tank. Though he was dressed in this sharp looking suit with a bow tie of all things. The dude looked like some sort of butler. Anyway, this guy was apparently reformed by the program and is now an “active member of society”, as she put it.

Clarisse told us she wanted to speak with us all on Friday, so I guess we have something to look forward to.

April 22nd

Clarisse, that woman…she’s certainly attractive.

The clothes she wears, those low-cut dresses, is she not aware where the fuck she’s at? Is she not aware of what we’ve done? What I’ve done? Is it attention? What is it? Just…maybe. Maybe it’s a tactic. It has to be.

Women can be manipulative. Like..Monica.

It’s working.

If it wasn’t her striking beauty that caught our attention, it was the words she spoke. She really made us feel like we were just guys who made horrible, horrible mistakes. But there was something that could be done about it.

Redemption.

She told us she had this special program for us as a form of community service. We’ll be helping this small town just outside of Massachusetts which has been struggling to stay afloat, and we’re gonna help clean it up or something like that. Doesn’t sound too bad, but again, I gotta question what makes her qualified to do something like this. I mean, the kid looks like she’s barely out of college, yet she thinks she can take charge of twenty something guys that have done God-knows-what?

Well, I can’t sit around here complaining. I know this won’t fix the things I’ve done, but if it’s any kinda road to redemption, and a chance to show people I’m not a monster, but some shithead who made an awful mistake, then I’m willing to do whatever to prove it.

We’ll be leaving shortly to head to this town. I just hope I don’t fuck this one up somehow. Like I said, I get angry very quickly. I don’t ever wanna be angry again.

April 30th

So I had no idea Clarisse was gonna read all our diaries by the end of this month. And she saw what I wrote about her and her…ehem…attractiveness. But she seemed to give that a pass and instead commented on how good it was that I was ‘honest about my feelings’ and how I wanted to redeem myself. I felt so damn relieved. It was like passing an exam. I don’t know why I felt so elated, but I was genuinely pleased with myself when she praised me.

I actually feel kinda sad that this month’s coming to an end. The people over at Greenhaven, the town we’ve been working in, seemed really nice. And that country air and wide open spaces…felt like something we all needed.

I saw some of the other ex-cons that Clarisse helped from other prisons. I guess these guys are fully rehabilitated. They sorta stood by us in these clean black T-shirts and pants and watched over us as we emptied trash cans and swept the roads. The weird thing about them is that each one of them was bald. Like, shaved heads. I don’t know if this was to reflect that they were still ex-cons, but I got a really weird vibe from these guys. But they seemed friendly enough. And hell, at least we got to see Clarisse again, looking as gorgeous as ever (also, if she reads this, hi Clarisse. You’re an angel, and I thank you for this opportunity), and that pale guy was there. I got talking with him on break and he was a pretty decent guy too. British, too.

Apparently, his name was Orlon. Pretty weird name, but who am I to judge?

After work, Clarisse congratulated us on a job well done. And I swear to God, the little minx gave us all hugs after. I couldn’t describe the feeling she gave me when she put her arms around my neck, pulled me down to her level, and hugged me close, but the most I can say is that she made me feel like a human being again. Like I was welcomed back into society.

I’m pretty sure all twenty of us full-grown men were blushing after those hugs.

I saw one of the guys, Rick Slater, take her aside and ask her something. When he came back, he had the biggest grin on his face.

I asked him, “So, whatcha ask her?”

He said, “I asked if she’ll be doing this on a regular basis, and she said yes. Not only that, but she’s gonna see about getting us all released early to work for her!”

I gotta admit, I laughed so loud I’m sure she heard me from across the street. I’m sorry for that laugh, Clarisse, but at that moment, I doubted she was telling the truth. Until I asked her myself, and she promised that on the second of June, she’d show us all the paperwork she got ready to basically release us and a bunch of other guys from prison to work for her. What was the work? She told us it was to help set up a church in town.

Yeah, good wholesome Christian duties awaited us. I’m honestly not that excited. I sorta turned my back on God long ago, so I can’t say I’m jumping for the opportunity to work at some church. But as long as Clarisse is there, I’m sure she’ll make it work for us all.

June 2nd

Well, today is the big day.

I got my stuff back and joined the bus back to Greenhaven. I was surprised to be going back there again. But even more surprised when we got to this “church.” It wasn’t a church at all. It was a goddamn cathedral!

I had no idea it was out here, in the middle of these woods. The place was huge!

But it had definitely seen better days.

She told us our first job was to clean this place up, renovate it and give it a new coat of paint. And I guess this was supposed to help the town’s community? I mean, I guess a small town like that went to church on Sundays and such, but not one THIS size. Maybe this was for tourism purposes? I don’t know, I hadn’t had the chance to ask Clarisse about it, since she was busy organising everything. I don’t think I’ve seen someone get so busy moving everything around. It was impressive, to say the least.

I saw trucks coming in, off-loading new furniture and decor, and bus loads of other cons like me and the guys and gals from possibly all over the state coming along to help put this together. I heard a bunch of them complaining about getting paid to do this. I guess they missed the point about this being a means to better ourselves?

Still, it would be nice to get something out of this, I suppose.

It’s funny. The whole time I’ve been working on this cathedral, I can only think about Monica. I almost completely forgot about her until I saw Clarisse walking by. For a brief moment, she looked at me with those beautiful emerald green eyes, and I couldn’t help but remember how Monica used to look at me. Back when she wasn’t afraid of me. I remember this one time we went on vacation to Hawaii, and some creep kept following us on the way back to the hotel room, so I punched his lights out. I was the hero that night. I’d do anything to feel that way again.

It’s getting late now, but Clarisse let us all have a rest, telling us we’ll start again tomorrow, and that this was part of the “Sevenmouth Project”. No idea what that was. I guess the name of the organisation she was a part of? I’m yet to meet anyone else in charge of all this. It looks like it’s just her. Maybe this is all part of a college project, and she’s studying law or criminal justice or something. I dunno. But hey, I’m on board so far. Beats being stuck in a cell all day and eating shitty dinners off of warming trays.

I keep seeing those bald guys wandering about though. I don’t know if they’re like volunteers or a security force or what. But I have to admit, they kinda give me the creeps. And I don’t frighten easily, but these guys just seem uncanny. Like they’re some type of neo-Nazi or something; all black, shaved heads, uniform walking, even the way they stand with their hands behind their backs like they’re always standing at attention. I guess that’s discipline for ya.

June 3rd

Damn, it’s surprising how quick this has all been, but hey a lot of people are working on this, and Clarisse has been really pushing us to work. But it all paid off. We finished the cathedral in record time. And I gotta say, it looks nice.

Then, despite us having worked on the damn place, inside and out, Clarisse decided to give all of us a tour of the entire cathedral. She was kinda cute when she went into formal tour guide mode. I had to laugh a little, with this 5 foot 5 girl leading around an army of fifty something gorillas behind her, as she talked in detail about every nook and cranny of this church, with that Orlon guy always close behind her, and those bald creeps always right behind us.

The architecture of this place is weird. Sure it looks like a cathedral, with golden sconces and marble pillars, but the religious imagery was really off putting. All the different murals and statues really made it feel like we were being watched throughout the whole tour. She went into detail about different statues and their meaning, and I gotta admit I was getting a little bored at this point and only remembered a few names; names like Atlas, Monarch, Aharon, Lu-Ra Kysh, Luna, Baeloth and I can’t remember much else.

I could tell a lot of guys were zoning out and looking elsewhere. Some of us started talking amongst ourselves, until Clarisse turned to us all and finally spoke in that sweet voice of hers.

“I can see you’re all tired and flustered” she said, “and this tour probably wasn’t the best idea. But I just wanted to show you all what you can achieve when you turn your negative emotions into positive energy, and can rebuild something wonderful if you put your minds to it.” Or something like that, don’t quote me on this.

But then she announced that even more cons will be coming to join us, and that we will have, I swear to God, a party to celebrate. A fucking party. In the main hall area of the church, whatever it’s called, I forget. So yeah, as I write this down, she’s setting up a sound system and turning the altar into a stage, and apparently there’ll be a dance performance to top it all off. By who you ask? Why, herself of course!

I feel like I’m about to witness a USO show or something. This all feels so surreal. We did our community service, building a church. Now she’s going to perform for us. It’s like Heaven on Earth. Is this how Heaven feels? I just beg she doesn’t sing pop. God, I hate it. It reminds me of Monica.

June 4th

Well, it wasn’t any of that pop music crap. Actually, the show was pretty great. She sang a variety of smooth jazzy songs, new-age trance and some RnB, which I’m usually not a fan of, but she made it work, especially with those dance moves. I swear to God she had us all entranced.

And here’s the kicker, we got to STAY the night in the cathedral. Yeah, I forgot to mention that the place was decked out with several bunkrooms for us to sleep in. So after some good food, booze and entertainment, we went to sleep and woke up weirdly refreshed. Not even a hangover!

We gathered at the main floor where Clarisse explained to us that by July 2nd, we’d be taken out of jail and we have the option to continue working with her full time. I know damn well everyone wants to continue working for her.

To be honest, this is happening so fast. Like how did she get these resources, the power? Or why us? It doesn’t matter in the end because it’s Clarisse. It’s her. It’s her. It’s not Monica, it’s her. Luckily, I got to speak to Clarisse and after praising her from head to toe about the night performance. I got to ask her about Sevenmouth. She explained some things, like:

“It was a project I dreamed up one night. I guess around the same time my aunt passed away. She was a massive influence on my life, and told me to make something of it. So I decided to make Sevenmouth to help people. People like you.”

I admit, I was touched, but it still didn’t explain exactly what Sevenmouth did or its end goal. I told her this, and she said this. “Well, it’s basically an organisation that helps cons and transients to lead better lives and have a second chance by working closely with God.”

That was it. A Christian charity, alright. Though I guess there isn’t much use in complaining about it now. After all, she did ask me how I felt about it. I told her, I didn’t know.

“That’s normal,” she said. “Because not many people nowadays have something to believe in. The world has become a lot colder, a lot more distant. People don’t know how to show affection anymore, nor do they truly understand each other. There’s too much conflict in the world and nothing to unite people. But that’s where Sevenmouth comes in. Sevenmouth’s purpose is to unite those that feel separated. Do you see now?”

I nodded. It was all I could do. I couldn’t deny her words. The world is a fucking cruel place. I could go on and on about how my dad was the biggest asshole in the world, and probably where a lot of my anger stemmed from, but I won’t. I’ll just accept the fact that she’s right. Things need to change, and maybe this ‘Sevenmouth’ is the right step forward.

I may not be a God-fearing man, but staying here in this cathedral gives me this ever growing sense of some greater power watching over me. I can feel it all around.

June 5th

I only just realised how strange it is to be back in jail. Like, I just realised to myself ‘oh yeah, I’m still a criminal’. No more sense of freedom. No more feeling of being looked out for by those that care about you. Is it strange that I got that feeling from Clarisse? Like she’s truly looking out for me? Or is it all just wishful thinking?

God, sometimes when I lay here all by myself, I wish Monica were laying beside me again. But everytime I try to think of her face, all I can see is Clarisse.

Am I…falling in love with her?

No, that’s ridiculous. I mean, I find her attractive for sure, and she makes me feel on top of the world when she speaks to me, but Monica, she’s my angel.

An angel that I ruined.

And in return, she ruined me and put me in here.

No, I mustn’t think like that anymore.

As Clarisse always says “You have the power to forgive yourself.” And that’s exactly what I must do if I’m to move on.

June 7th

Clarisse got me a gift today. It was a golden cherub mask. I’m not too sure what to make of it, since I’m not the only one who got one. I hope this isn’t part of the uniform or something.

June 9th

Clarisse had just set up a training course behind the cathedral, and what looks like an arena? She’s really pushing that we work out and stay healthy, not that I’m complaining. But when I was outside, I saw more of those trucks pulling up. No more prisoners, just a lot of boxes and crates. Not sure what was inside them, maybe food? I have to wonder where it’s all coming from.

Clarisse doesn’t speak to us as often as before, but I guess she’s just busy. I kinda admire her. All that work she carries out, the work she does for all our benefit to be better people in society. Even if this place is a little strange, I guess I gotta stay optimistic and trust that Sevenmouth knows what it’s doing.

July 2nd

It’s official. I’m no longer in prison. Not anymore. I’m free.

Free to work for Clarisse Delacroix.

The first thing I received from her on my way out of that place was a package containing my new uniform. The same black uniform those bald lackeys were wearing. I got worried this is where the real discipline starts, but instead it was like security duty. Our job was to simply guard the cathedral. That was it. Just stand there, look out for intruders, then switch shifts.

Clarisse was busy inside with a bunch of paperwork and surrounded by all these men and women in suits. I guess they were the other representatives of Sevenmouth, possibly the same ones that got the info on the prisons that Clarisse visited. Maybe there were the ones that managed to get her into the facilities in the first place?

No idea what their roles were. Never saw them before up until now.

Orlon was there too, though he was wearing this deep crimson tux with the classic bow tie, heart-shaped lipstick, and eyeshadow. Not really sure what to make of it. I suspected he was a little strange but this is pushing it a bit.

Clarisse was wearing this pretty white dress that surprisingly covered much more of her than usual. I guess this was her ‘formal’ attire. She was speaking in French to these people, so I couldn’t make out a lot of what she was saying, but it sounded important enough for her to raise her voice a few times. It was a lot unlike her to get visibly angry about something. I guess it’s none of my business though.

Later on today, we were fitted with earpieces. Made us feel more official. I can’t help feeling like we’re being trained to be bodyguards or something. But for a church? Really strange.

July 4th

We celebrated Independence Day with yet another party. This time Clarisse wore the most glamorous golden dress I think I’ve ever seen. I gotta admit, my heart skipped a beat when she got on stage. I wished I had a bouquet of flowers to throw to her.

As she danced and sang on stage, my mind was racing. About her, and Monica.

I tried to remember the first time we met. It was at a party like this, in Greece I think. We were both young and in our college years. I accidentally spilled beer all over her shirt, and she shoved me against the crowd. She pushed me so hard I fell onto my back. She then rushed over to help me up. Then we just started talking to each other about…everything. We got on like a house on fire.

I caught Clarisse backstage with another guy. Some tall lanky sonofabitch that was throat-deep down her with his tongue. I was disgusted. As they kissed, I had the overwhelming urge to punch that guy square in the face. But why?

I wasn’t with Clarisse. Why do I get these possessive feelings? Fuck, I’m a terrible person. I had to let them be. Clarisse can do whatever she wants. I don’t give a fuck. I had Monica, after all, and by the time this is all over, I can see her again.

July 5th

It just dawned on me. When do we get to go home after we finish?

What are we even doing here still?

I’ll ask Clarisse tomorrow. If she’s finished hanging around with that new boyfriend of hers…

July 6th

We’re not going home.

July 14th

This will be my last entry before I leave this place. I want this journal to prove something is wrong with Sevenmouth.

It started as yet another party to celebrate bringing even more followers into the cathedral. This time it was from a homeless charity Clarisse had apparently bought out and had given all the homeless people jobs similar to ours, which all seemed to consist of security detail, custodian and maintenance stuff. More rooms were being added to the cathedral, so we all got building again. Now that’s all over, I guess that means it’s party time.

I was stationed outside the main hall, which had become something of a mix between a nave/transept and a dancefloor, when Orlon came walking by. He didn’t enter the hall, so I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to talk to someone a little higher up who wasn’t Clarisse, who lately had a habit of dodging mine or anyone’s questions.

I got him into a corner and started speaking to him. I told him how I felt about all of this and even though I appreciated Clarisse for helping me out, this all felt a little weird to me.

Now, I wouldn’t say me and him were friends at this point, but we spoke a few times and despite his odd appearance and mannerisms, he seemed like an okay guy. But I never got to know him personally.

After I vented my frustrations on this guy, who in return said jackshit to me, I asked him how he came to serve Clarisse.

“I was a criminal, much like you, dear boy,” he said. And yes, he often referred to me as ‘dear boy’.

“But Clarisse found me. She told me she ‘liked my style’ and said she could release me. I didn’t know how lucky I was until I was in her service.”

I asked what his role was, officially.

“I suppose I’m somewhat of a butler. With my keen eye to detail and a penchant for keeping things in perfect order. Yes, I am quite fond of keeping things neat and tidy.”

I then asked him what he did to be arrested in the first place, but he shut up. He kept silent, looking to a door on the right hand side of the hallway. That door happened to lead into his ‘private quarters’. I pressed him, but the bastard refused to speak. It wasn’t until I saw a small tear leak down his face, leaving a black stain down his cheek, that I stopped asking.

Though, I couldn’t help but ask him one more thing, though I know I was really pushing it this time. I had to ask him what Sevenmouth was really about, and if Clarisse was really in charge.

The guy suddenly flipped out on me.

“How dare you question Miss Delacroix’s leadership!” He suddenly screamed at me. I was shocked to say the least. The guy was always so quiet and calm, to have him practically explode in my face was the last thing I expected.

At least, up until that moment.

When I turned around, that’s when I met him. Face to face.

I said before that Orlon was quite a pretty built guy, but he was nothing compared to this goliath of a man that I saw in front of me. I don’t know how long he was there, but he just stood there at the other end of the hallway. He wasn’t close, but I could tell if he was, he would be towering over me and Orlon. He wore a dark blue suit, tie with black pants, smart shoes, and white gloves. But the weirdest thing by far was the mask he wore.

He was wearing what I can only describe as one of those old fashioned ballroom masks, but blue and shaped like a crescent moon. His blank eyes stared at me, staring into my soul, like I had done or said something terrible, before he silently walked away. I didn’t know someone so big could move so fucking quietly.

Orlon seemed just as shaken as I was, but he was glaring at me with fire in his eyes, before he also walked away.

I’m now in my room, packing my stuff up and getting ready to leave this place.

I don’t know how I got into this situation, or this place, but I’m starting to think this whole thing is fucked up. I have to leave. I don’t know where I’ll go, but I’m a free man now, right?

Maybe I can try and get back with Monica. Or maybe find my folks. Maybe they’ll put up with me. In the meantime, I gotta get a job and work my way across the country. But I just have to get out.

I’m keeping this diary and I’m gonna detail as much as I can about Sevenmouth while I leave. I’ll try and remember all the weird details that eluded me when I was too busy thinking that this was some sort of pathway to redemption. God I was stupid to believe there’s a pathway to redemption. There is no fucking redemption for people like me. They gather us like rats and then throw us away. Is that truly redemption? Is that truly the way to save people like me? I thought she was redemption. The angel to the world I put myself to. But of course, I was so blinded. How could I have been so blind? She’s like fucking Monica. I need to leave. I want to leave. This pathway of redemption? It’s bullshit. It’s always been bullshit. I have to leave.

August 1st

I found myself at a motel a few miles into Connecticut, where I think I’m safe enough to write this. I had to sneak out of that place. The security was tight around the entrances, but it looked like they weren’t counting on anyone trying to escape. I managed to slip out of the window without anyone noticing. Lucky me.

I wondered why no one else thought about leaving like me. I considered asking a few of my prison buddies to join me, but they seemed happy to stay. Too happy. I had to leave them behind, I wasn’t sure what else I could do. Try and drag a few of them with me and risk us all getting caught? That is if they’d follow me at all, or rat me out.

Now I gotta get this out of the way so anyone reading this will understand just what Sevenmouth is. It’s a goddamn cult!

I should’ve seen it from the start. All that talk about serving God and all that shit.

The fact is, there wasn’t a god to begin with! Not at least how Clarisse saw it.

I remember her talking to Orlon about something to do with The Great Wheel or some shit like that. I also remember seeing a lot of artwork around Orlon’s quarters. The guy was a painter, and painted a lot of weird shit. Things like these gold winged creatures that sort of looked like angels, but had five faces, five arms, five wings and five legs, with these horned crown things on their heads. Their gaunt, eyeless faces were disturbing to look at.

Along with that, were also these four-armed statues with elephant heads. And at first I thought, ‘Ganesh, right? The Hindu God?’ except all these creatures had only one eye in the center of their heads.

He also painted this massive mural of the sun and moon, but the sun and moon had these human eyes staring out of the centre, with these smaller golden circles surrounding them, all of them surrounding some sort of symbol, seven of them in total. I didn’t know what that mural was, but I’m starting to think this cult believes in some strange things. Shit like aliens and weird deities or something. Or maybe some kind of new-age devil worship. I have no idea, but it explains the weirded out feeling I got from all those statues that felt like they were watching me.

And how that whole place is run, too. From the black uniforms to the shaved heads, to the fact that we were all sleeping under one roof. And Clarisse’s assemblies and meetings were more like sermons, talking about how we were redeeming ourselves in the eyes of heaven or some shit like that. Why didn’t I see this all before?

I wish I could learn more, but I don’t know who to turn to. I just think about all those other poor suckers that are still back there. Do any of them realise what’s going on? And who do I even tell about this? The cops? I just got out of prison!

God, I don’t know what to do. Maybe I should tell them. See if they believe me or at least check it out. But the more I think about it, I don’t think Sevenmouth has ever done anything illegal. At least, not yet.

August 5th

I’m being followed. Ever since I spoke to the cops, the same black car has been passing by the motel. I have to make a move.

I’m writing this down in case anything happens to me. Watch out for Sevenmouth.

August 6th

New place. I’m still being followed.

August 7th

Stilll being followed .

August 8th

Im Still being followed

August 9th

Still beng follwed

August 10th

I haven’t seen that black car all day and it’s getting dark. I thi-

August 17th

That moon-faced fuck broke my fucking leg and dragged me back to the cathedral, where they shaved my head and gave me that mask to wear.

A beautiful golden cherub mask.

I laughed. It was all I could do.

There was no escape from these people.

They want me to parade around in this shit, and now I had no choice but to oblige.

Besides, everyone else is wearing their masks now.

Now we can all be little Cherubs.

The fuckers are making me keep this diary to write in, just to fucking torment me. I think it’s working. The reality’s starting to set in. There’s no escape. I’m never gonna see my family again, or anyone on the outside.

I saw him today, the same cop that I spoke to and told about Sevenmouth. I saw him wearing that same black uniform, and carrying around a golden cherub mask.

The police knew all this time. Or at least, they have moles in the police department. How far does this go? I thought it was just some dinky little charity that repairs shit for poor local towns. How far do the connections go? How many people work for this cult?

That moon guy sits outside my room. He won’t let me out. There’s bars on the windows now, and my leg still hurts like a bitch.

He scares me. I’ve never been so terrified by a man before, but when he attacked me that night, I just lost it. I cried like a baby. I woke up in a dark room, tied to a chair and covered in bruises. With him standing over me. Those blank eyes staring down at me, silent as ever.

Now those same blank eyes are watching my door.

They don’t seem human.

I’m starting to doubt if that guy even is human.

I can’t get out. I’m trapped here with my thoughts, until they let me out.

Is this my punishment for what I did to Monica? I’m so sorry.

Maybe I deserve this.

I can hear a choir down the hallway. It sounds heavenly. The most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard. I know for a fact that they’re all the convicts.

They’ve become Cherubs.

Even though my room now has a comfortable bed, a sink that actually works and a private toilet, I think I prefer prison. At least there my warden wasn’t so terrifying.

This room is my new cell.

This cathedral is my new prison.

August 30th

Clarisse came to visit me finally. She was wearing her long white dress, looking like an angel.

She’s no angel.

She told me that she knew what to do with me. She said this was a test we must all pass.

She told me that I was too “bound to earthly ties”, or something like that. She said I had to make a sacrifice.

She and the man in the moon mask led me to a room at the back of the cathedral.

There she stopped me, took me aside, and in the most calmest, coldest voice told me this;

“Behind that door you will find your salvation. Behind that door, you will find the ties that bind you. And we ask you to sever those ties.”

I asked her what she meant.

“We all must do this to achieve enlightenment.

When I was young, both my parents died when I was a baby. Then my aunt passed away when I was seventeen. I have no one but Sevenmouth now. But that’s exactly what I need. What WE need. We need to be free, free to judge the world as it is without anything holding us back. To look beyond good and evil, life and death, and say to ourselves ‘what is the best thing we can do for humanity’? Think of all the heartache we’re causing.

Think of all the violence and murder, the rape and torture, the greed and gluttony, everything that’s ruining the planet and ourselves. We need someone to guide us.

We can’t do it, but there is someone who can. And it is our duty to bring them forth to our world so they can enlighten us and show us the way, before it’s too late.

We are building a utopia, and we want you to be a part of it.

Please, for the sake of humanity, sever your ties. Give yourself to the cosmos. You have nothing left…but us.”

With that, the moon faced man gave me a handgun from his jacket pocket, and both of them sent me into the room.

The room where I will find my salvation.

My only question is…how did they find them?

Mom…dad…Monica…forgive me.

Oh God…what have I done?

August 31st

I have no one now.

No one to keep me tethered to this life.

No one except Clarisse. Clarisse, and the rest of the Cherubs.

I feel their eyes all over me. Always watching me behind those masks. They wanted me to do it. Did they have to do it too?

And I chose to do it. Right?

No, she forced my hand. She made me feel like I had no choice!

But…I didn’t have a choice.

I have no choice.

I have no choice.

I have no one now.

September 7th

Everything is normal.

Everything is fine.

When the world was first opened by the Great Wheel of Sloi A’ark, the cyclopean race was blessed by the arrival of the Golden Winged Beings from beyond the stars.

Aharon, the Great Teacher, gave them the fruit of knowledge, so unto them they knew all, yet still fought the Great Battle of Ages, cleansed by the seas as the world was born anew.

Hail to the Monarch of the Golden Beings from across the stars, as He sits at His throne in Nadir, waiting at the edge of the cosmos.

Hail to Baeloth, Keeper of the Glass Palace, and the Lord of Pain and Suffering. May He bind us all in anguish as we await the end of this world. And soon the Great Ark will take us all to Zenith, when the stars are right.

Hail to Lu-Ra Kysh, Prince of the Moon, for He brought onto the world the souls of the blessed and damned. Born amongst them are the Six Chaotic Minds, all voices of the follies of Humankind, and among them shall be born a Seventh, whose soul is pure and innocent.

Rejoice, for the Seventh Mouth shall sing The Great Song, and the world will once again know of the deluge of Enlightenment, and the world shall be cleansed once again.

Rejoice!