Artyom Dereschuk - Hate the Sin

“What are you talking about?” Homewrecker wondered, bewildered.

“I’m just saying that I don’t care what happens to us anymore. I can’t bring myself to care. If no one else does… then why should I?”

“Because it’s your life!” Homewrecker passionately said. The words of his friend were filling him with anger; how could he disregard such a simple fact? “Who else is going to care about it but you?”

“I don’t know,” Corpse Eater calmly replied. “Maybe someone else will. But I doubt it. This…” He raised his gun a bit. “Is all we are and ever will be. We are not the soldiers who carry the weapons—we are the tools themselves. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Bullshit,” Homewrecker snarled. Once again, he felt like he was fighting a losing battle, against his friend and his common sense, but his rebellious will was not allowing him to give in. “All of this will be over one day, and we’ll survive today to see it. I’m sure of it. And I’ll claw at the Earth to fulfill that, because only I decide what I am and what my future will be.”

Corpse Eater didn’t say anything in response, but Homewrecker knew: it wasn’t because he had nothing to say or because his mind was changed. The boy just didn’t want to continue the argument anymore.

To hell with you, Homewrecker angrily thought. You’ll see when I carry your ass through all of this that I am right. You’ll see .

He angrily turned away from his friend and focused on the darkness, trying his best not to notice Corpse Eater from the corner of his eye. The boy was annoying him with his sentiments, and Homewrecker would rather stare into the abyss than talk to him again.

And he made that decision just in time.

The strange music and clapping noises got louder. Whoever the tireless musicians were, they were heading in their direction. The boy cocked his gun and signaled for Corpse Eater to stay on alert—a gesture completely pointless as his friend had caught on himself, but the one that was giving the boy an illusion of control. Behind him, he heard the cloth of gun belts rubbing against skin and clothes as a few soldiers raised their weapons as well, and he prepared to fight whatever his light would reveal.

The creature that entered their sights was… disappointing. Even under the starry sky somewhere above them, it would probably still be the most defenseless thing in the world. Homewrecker was so appalled at that fact that he even lowered his gun.

The thing was not much taller than a boy, and just like him it walked on two legs, hunching forward a bit. Instead of a mouth, it had two pipes which were hanging down to its knees, past its big glossy belly, and just above the pipes were two big, round black eyes.

The creature clapped its hands—so disturbingly similar to human ones—and then let out a few notes from its natural musical instrument. After that it performed a simple silly dance. Its eyes were watering from the light scorching out its retinas, but nevertheless it continued to attract the crowd’s attention with concentrated dedication.

“What the hell is that?” Homewrecker heard someone behind him wonder. Even thought the question was not aimed at him, the boy shook his shoulders, as he had just wondered the same thing. The creature stopped dancing to raise one hand to cover its eyes from the light; it was clear that it didn’t have any eyelids and looking at the light was causing it physical pain, but a few moments later, as if it had gathered enough strength to continue, it started clapping and dancing again, staring at the very thing that was causing it so much anguish.

It was clear that it didn’t want to stop, and that its weird dance was more important to it than its own well-being, as if the very concept of survival and preserving itself was alien to it. It was enough to take a look at it to tell that it was a creature from a different world, but it was its behavior that truly conveyed that impression. The boy didn’t know what it was, but seeing how it neglected its health, how much it craved their attention, and the almost religious vigor that filled it when it danced for them, gave the boy the impression that the otherworldly gods that had molded it put subservience at the top of the list of that poor creature’s priorities. It would try to entertain them even if it cost it its life since, for the first time in thousands of years, its species suddenly found a subject of worship that they had been missing for so long.

Other creatures like it were slowly gathering around it, inspired by the example of their brother. They had to witness it with their own eyes; the angels that had descended from above, radiating their divine light across their abandoned lands. The sounds of their pipes combined into one excited cacophony. Like moths to a flame, their round bodies emerged from the darkness as they yearned to experience the long forgotten sense of sight.

A shot thundered across the dark plains, and the creature standing closest to them fell to the ground, struck down by a soldier’s bullet. The other flute players got the message and started to retreat, though Homewrecker noted that even as they ran away they made stops to make something that looked like apologetic bows, and their music, formless as it was, seemed to convey the same feeling with high-pitched notes.

Looking at the body lying on the soft and wet ground, Homewrecker glanced at Corpse Eater. Still fuming over their earlier conversation, he pointed toward the dead body and said: “You know, they remind me of you a little bit. They also take everything.”

“Fuck off.” Corpse Eater’s reply was simple.

“Everybody stand down! Stand down!” The General’s sudden shout caught them off guard. They were sure that the General didn’t stop them because their quest was over; his voice was laced with concern. And if nothing before that had made him lose his cool, what had happened now?

“Right flank.”—They heard his voice. “Where’s the light on the right flank?”

Looking over to the right flank, Homewrecker noticed that there was indeed a sizable gap in the perimeter. Where there used to be a kid there was now just darkness and a cut down cable—a sizable gap in their imaginary defense that was easily noticed. The soldiers that stood the nearest to it tried to hide inside the crowd, but the others weren’t keen on trading places with them.

Homewrecker felt a sting of concern. Who was that? Who had been taken? He recalled that it was Whitesnake who had stood there, but he wasn’t sure.

“General! A few more men on the right flank are missing!” someone informed him, and the rumors started bouncing back and forth across the crowd, making them unruly.

While the soldiers were panicking over what they were going to do Homewrecker, was firmly staring into darkness; he knew that he couldn’t afford to be distracted. There were enemies on the right flank to him, sure. But that didn’t mean that his side was safe. He was hoping that the other kids understood that as well, or their losses would keep growing.

“Did anyone see what happened?” the General asked loudly. “General. I did!” one of the soldiers shouted. “They had been walking alongside us and then I noticed that the light went out.”

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything!?” the General exploded in anger, and the soldier pulled his head in like a turtle, trying to stick out of the crowd less: “I thought that it was because of someone who was walking between us. I didn’t know, I swear!”

The soldiers didn’t like that answer, and Homewrecker could hear the commotion behind him. Everyone was getting louder, and he could make out only individual noises and voices.

“What are you, stupid?”