The afternoon sun bore down on the city, the hottest part of the day. Poisonous found herself at Tyrell’s apartment, keeping cool after heating things up. “Tyrell. This has been great. I needed someone to treat me right.”
“I do what I can, baby.”
She gave him a full-press kiss, letting it linger as long as she could, then turned and left. It was a typical Washington summer evening: hot and sweltering, even at 5:30 PM. About a block from the subway, she heard a commotion. Two young thugs held up a man up at gunpoint.
“Gimme your money, fool, or I’ll waste you. Now move it!”
The man trembled, and fumbled for his wallet. He was about to give it to the one who made the demands when a police officer rounded the corner. He pulled out his gun, and shouted at the man. Poisonous stared, transfixed.
“Stop, or I’ll shoot!” the gunman demanded again.
The police officer looked warily at the perp, and said, “Just put the gun down, and there’ll be no trouble.”
The man holding the gun took the man’s wallet, shot the man and ran. The officer ran after him a short distance and shot him. The young man fell, holding his shoulder and the police officer apprehended him. Another officer came on the scene, apprehended the other man at gunpoint, and stood him spread eagle against the squad car.
The first officer called for an ambulance on his radio through dispatch.
“Send an EMT team, and possibly a helicopter. The victim’s been shot directly in the heart and is bleeding profusely.”
She had seen death before, even painful torture, but she was never human; now the events happening were very vivid and real. She relished seeing another human soul sent to eternal misery. She couldn’t take her eyes off the man whom the gunman had shot, lying there bleeding. Shortly thereafter, his spirit left his body. Two angels she had never seen before took him to his ultimate judgment. She knew well what was in store for the poor man, because the Light of Lord Yehovah was absent from his soul. Such circumstances caused her to gloat at such unfortunate souls, but from the other side of the spirit realm.
The sirens of the EMT truck and the ambulance blared as they arrived. The techs scrambled out, and got quickly to work. The EMT techs declared the victim of the shooting dead on the scene. The paramedics put the robber with the gun in the ambulance and took him to George Washington Hospital. The police put the other man in custody.
“All right everyone, you all will have to leave. Please clear the crime scene. Everyone go home,” said the officer-in-charge.
Walking away, she cackled loudly, her smile more a sneer than benevolent; words more condemning than mere observations. “You stupid, foolish worthless human flesh. We’ve made sure you would believe our lie, and now you’ll pay for it... forever!”
* * *
Randy Gable, the Senior Pastor of Church of the Spirit, presided over the Financial Committee. This particular meeting took place on a Wednesday night, when various other ministries took place. After discussing the various accounts that the church’s income would go into, Randy would make sure that about five percent would go into his ‘slush fund’ which he had set aside for himself. The slush fund gave him the ability to buy things for himself that he couldn’t afford on his pastor’s salary. So far, he had bought a brand new car, and invested in a business on the Dark Web that sold arms to militant groups around the world, including ISIS.
A knock on the door to the room interrupted the flow of the meeting. Randy said, “Could someone please see who that is?” One of the assistant pastors went to the door, and found a young couple there.
“May I help you?” the Assistant Pastor asked.
“Yes, we were told to come to this room to ask to talk to the Senior Pastor.”
Randy answered, “I’m sorry folks, but this is a private meeting. You’ll have to leave.” His face reflected his impatience and anger at being interrupted.
The couple, aghast at the callousness of his answer, turned around and left, and decided never to set foot in the doors of this church again.
Finishing up the business for the night, Randy, Randy said, “Alright, ladies and gentlemen. This meeting is adjourned. We’ll meet again next month.” The Associate Pastor who had answered the door, looked at him, shook his head and left.
Politically Correct watched as the various members of the Finance Committee left the room, then smiled to himself. He had been working on this pastor for a long time, along with all the other corrupt pastors in the D.C. area. In each case, the pastors made the church seem on target with the preaching of the Bible, but he encourages them to have one or more major peccadillos. Smiling to himself, he said, “That’s right, Pastor Gable. You deceive these people, and I will make sure you are rewarded…with excommunication, most likely. But only after you have ruined this church.” Roaring with laughter, he flew away.
As the unredeemed soul went to his final judgment, Poisonous reflected on what further kinds of mischief she could get into. However, Politically Correct, the ruler of the Washington, D.C. district, appeared to her, and said, “Intelligence has informed me that a certain member of The Church of The Spirit suspects foul play on the part of the Senior Pastor. I need you to make sure this member doesn’t live to tell his tale. His name is Fritz Bellinger, and he lives in Falls Church, Virginia. I have made sure the pastor is deceived, and corrupt.”
Poisonous, invigorated by the death of a human soul, flew through the air, heading towards Virginia, looking forward to destroying another. As she flew through the early evening air, she smelled an odd
