Curiosity and the Cat

[WP] Everyone knows a cross is a holy symbol, while an inverted cross invokes evil. Curious because you never heard it mentioned before, you decide to hang up a cross and turn it sideways.

*****

There was never any time for 'unnecessary discussions' and banter at the Chaplaincy.

Our work was not that of cubicles and happy hour and a friendly office relationship. It was life or death, life versus darkness, good versus evil. And pardon me, but it was even less of work and more of a duty; we had taken this decision and consecrated ourselves to be priests and nuns, but not the kind that officiated mass and did all that in the cathedrals, with robes and all of the paraphernalia associated with the church.

We were out on the fields, destroying evil and getting destroyed by it. We were not encouraged to have relationships with our fellow exorcists, even friendships frowned at, even if you shared the same room with that person.

Tomorrow, that person could be dead. Would you then relapse into a depressive state, hating anyone and everyone? Would you abandon your calling, your dedication, your resolve? Would you abandon humanity's fight against evil?

It was a duty that demanded the highest level of seriousness from us all, and that wasn't something we needed to be reminded of daily. Knowing that the next time you get summoned for a mission could very well be your last had a way of leaving us all with austere expressions.

The entire atmosphere was depressing.

And then there was one. Me, that is.

I was the anomaly. When I say 'we' and 'us', I speak collectively of everyone other than me who was following the blueprint and the norms. I was different, mainly because I didn't want to let the whole atmosphere get to me.

When one is able to see and hear demons and angels and interact with the supernatural, they are allowed to take the vows of an Exorcist as far as they are pure of heart. I remain pure of heart, but I was very different from all the rest. I wanted to live life to the fullest and smell all my roses during my stint in this plane of the living.

Did the elders like or approve of this lifestyle? No. I was shunned by most of my colleagues, even in brief periods where interaction and communion were possible like during meals and exercises. But after I came back from my first ten missions, all within one month, twice being the sole survivor out of a four-man team, they began to acknowledge my worth.

I tended to be loud, and I talked a lot. About things, I'd read, and things I'd watched on the television, and things our matron at the orphanage I grew up in told me. The silence was something I detested - we could die any day. On any mission. The next day wasn't assured, so why the hell would I waste my time being silent and moving around like a walking corpse, wearing all my problems proudly on my forehead?

There was something else in particular about me - my curiosity. That was something the Elder Priests did fear. Curiosity. when well managed, could lead to innovation and intelligence, but when it was allowed to run amok - as in my case -things were bound to go wrong.

I was not a huge fan of the definite order of things - as you might have suspected by now. I wasn't okay with just knowing that there was an order to how things worked; I wanted to know the rules and principles governing everything. WHY did they work that way, and WHY did humanity come to the conclusion that this was the best way of doing things?

What other possibilities existed in this world of infinite choices and outcomes.

"You're way in over your head, Ezekiel," the Bishop said when I first told him about these thoughts. "Delving deeper only takes you farther away from the goal which brought you here. And much farther from the light. There is a thin line between being curious and being nosy, and both can get you into trouble. Know your place in the grand scheme of things, and stick to it."

Perhaps I should have taken that advice instead of wrinkling my nose and walking off. Then I would not have found myself staring at the crucifix nailed to the wall in my room, and placing my hands on it.

An upright cross: a holy symbol, and one of the most powerful artifacts used in our line of duty.

An inverted cross: a surefire symbol of evil - not just evil, but the presence of a strong, vile and malevolent spirit.

My question: what did a sideways cross mean?

As I turned the cross to the left side and saw the bright glow, I acknowledged for the first time in my life that I had indeed gone too far.

*****

End of Part 1.

I wonder if it's been more than a month since I put anything here. So much dust and cobwebs, eh? Well, between my exams and sickness - which just subsided last week, Read.Cash just couldn't find a space in all of that crazy stuff.

The Good News is that I'm back, and very much ready to keep n dishing out articles as frequently as I can. I don't know how long this freedom and flexibility in my time schedule will last, but I'm making the most of it.

How has Read.Cash been during my hiatus? I can't even keep up with all the notifications, so if you're seeing this and you're still interested in what this runaway author has to write, leave a comment and a like, will ya?

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