As usual the morning was a haze of clouds both in the sky and lingering along the ground. It swirled when someone stepped by, or when a cart was wheeled along. Benny Hatcher was new in town, as he usually was, and it was only obvious. He stared around, bright, icy blue eyes watching people pass by. And among the brown, black, graying, and red hair, his own light blonde stood out like a sprig of fresh grass after a wildfire. He had crossed the bridge over the River of the Dead only an hour ago, and already he’d explored the lot of the town, passing open-air market stalls and a massive church, a hospital and a few shelters for the homeless, run by pastors and those of kind hearts. The one thing he noted as being meticulously kept was the church. Much like what he had seen in towns before, cities and villages alike. The second-largest structure was the clock tower, facing the church just across the street.

Benny stood at the mouth of an alley in the shadow of a series of shops. Just to his right sat a series of thick-walled crates, empty but with the faint scent of corn husks lingering in the immediate area. A lot of people were around, dressed in combinations of black, dark brown, off-white stained with soot or age, dark green and red. His own clothes were light brown, combined with red and white, as though he were untouched by filth or age. But Benny was careful, he always told someone if they asked. Care and clean, and it often received a nod and farewell. Benny glanced down, making sure his footing was right, and stepped onto the crate.

It took a few minutes of speaking, but Benny’s voice eventually gathered a crowd. He began easily, with his name, that he had arrived from a larger city to the north, and his intention was no more than to gather the ears and minds of anyone who would spare a few minutes to listen.

“Young men and women, children and the old, I simply speak from the heart.” Benny didn’t strain to speak, his voice carried well over the near silence that had fallen. “My journey has carried me here, to bask in the presence you so patiently give. I sense a sadness in the hearts of so many here, something that cannot be cured easily. It’s a sickness in the heart, I feel it well, so near and yet, so well hidden. I’m nothing but a simple wanderer, but I wish to give you a word of advice: Speak what you will. To those you love, to those you don’t know. Take pity on those you dislike, rather than give in to your hatred of them. Hate in your heart will do no more than make you ill at ease, it will never set your mind to rest.”

He went on. The gazes of men and women, a few children, stared unblinkingly, watchful, ears listening. Business had halted for the time being, as merchants abandoned their booths and shop owners came out into the misty morning to hear what this newcomer had to say. However, he didn’t stay long. After a few minutes he gave a bow of farewell and stepped down from his perch, moving away to where he recalled an inn to be. He had traveled a long way, his feet were tired and his legs pained him. Passing a series of great shaggy beasts the townspeople noted as horses, he came to find the very inn he had passed before. Westeria Inn, perhaps named after the owners. With a world-weary sigh, Benny stepped up and into the lobby. He would rest for a while before venturing out again. Usually his presence was met with shock or confusion, and he gave it a while to calm down.

Karen watched as the flames curled the pages of her book, before reducing them to nothing more than piles of soot in the fire place. Her husband watched, grinned as the book reached an unsalvageable state. “You should know better than to read such filth. No wife of mine need bother herself with any book other than the holy one.” He said his voice soft and pleasant as if he were giving a sermon at the church. Karen merely glared at him with her cut lip pursed in defiance. “Oh, and if you ever defile a holy book again – I’ll make sure to take your eyes.” He left after that, with a calm air about him – though once he left Karen’s angry aura filled the room.

Finally allowing her hand to reach up and touch her lip where he had hit her, she sighed. Angry tears threatening to fall. He had already banned her from reading any books other than the bible that he preached, but in her solitude she had needed something to read. She had tried to hide her book from him by ripping the cover off of one of the unused bibles and replacing the one on her book, but he had caught her. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to calm herself down. Emerging from the room hours later only when she was sure she would be able to face him again.


He was too busy drinking to notice her at first, as he glared at a basket of fruit on the table. Karen always thought him weird, especially when he was in his cups... but this was odd even for him. “My dear husband.” She deadpanned. “What is troubling you about this basket of fruit?” She asked.
“The person it’s to be delivered too.” He said. Was that a hint of jealousy in his voice? “Some young preacher lad, came into the square today and caused a big stir.”
She nodded, not caring for whatever simple thing amused the villagers. “I want you to bring it to him, and invite him to the service tomorrow... I’ll show him how to capture an audience.” His words were beginning to slur – and when he was drunk that usually meant that she would have to suffer his advances. Luckily, most of the time the alcohol impaired him – she would gladly deliver this basket to whatever poor soul had wandered into the village. Reaching over the table, she gripped it, only to feel his hand cup her bottom.
“I didn’t say go now.” She swallowed nervously, moving away from him. But he wasn’t having any of that. “To the bedroom.”
“No.”
“No?”

----

Basket in hand, she stormed out of that vile place. Her clothes ruffled and a bruise on her eye to match her split lip. She simply ran into the wall...She was simple-minded like that. Luckily for her that her husband took such good care of her. If the people of this town bought his act, they were foolish. If they didn’t, they were cruel to play along.

Marching along, she stopped in front of the Inn, walking in. The owner greeted her kindly, happy to have someone at his inn, and directed her to his room. With a slight knock, she waited, moving a piece of her fiery red hair out of her face that had fallen out of her braid as a result of her husbands... care.

Benny was weary, but he didn’t dare sleep. If he did, he would wake in the evening and it would be difficult to rest throughout the night. He didn’t speak as well as he did while fully awake, so he would have to wait it out until Monday, perhaps take a walk through town. With a sigh he stood from the bed, brushing the cover flat, and went to the window. From there, he could see the clock tower not far down the road. It would ring at noon. That would give him enough time to sleep off his travels. He would certainly hear its booming ring, and certainly be well awake enough afterward to explore the poorer parts of town.

Drawing the dusty green curtain, Benny stepped back and went to the trunk beside the small fireplace near the door. It was empty, save a small layer of dust and dead spider. From the pocket of his duster he pulled an extremely old book, the leather binding emblazoned with a double-ringed star and nothing more, and set it in the bottom of the chest. Closing it, he laid the duster over it and pulled the tie from around his neck, able to breathe easily. With a painful growl, he sat himself on the edge of the old bed, making it creak sadly, unlacing his shoes and setting them in front of the nightstand.

It was dark enough in the room with a few burning embers in the fireplace and a single, small flame flickering, just barely alive, in the middle of the bedside table. It threw shadows jumping on the walls and over the wooden floor, just bright enough for Benny to see and identify the various shapes in the room. His back sighed in relief when he laid back, pulling his waist-length hair out of the quick ball he had made at the base of his neck. The near silence was wondrous, the noise outside muffled by the thick glass in the window pane, a quiet pop and crackle from the fireplace and light sizzling from the oil lamp just a couple feet away. He closed his eyes, reveling for a moment in the silence and peace.

A knock startled him, snapping his eyes open and bringing him up. Benny didn’t know anyone well enough in town to garner a visitor, unless it was someone from earlier who had followed him to the inn. However, they had certainly waited long enough to make their presence known. He never turned away from someone, though, so despite his body protesting, he pushed himself up and made the mile-long trek to the door, sliding the brass lock aside and pulling it toward him.

Not often did first appearances earn a gasp, but this one certainly did. From the ruffled, bunched clothing and slightly mussed hair to the broken lip and dark circle around the eye, Benny immediately felt a terribly sad air around the young woman. “Dear me.” He spoke in a low voice, mostly to himself. The sight had chased away all sleep from his mind and body. “Come in, dear, please.” He reached out, placing a gentle hand on the young lady’s shoulder and guiding her inside. “What’s happened to you?” He asked in a voice laden heavily with concern, closing the door easily. He couldn’t quite read her face, perhaps from not quite being able to focus well, but he knew a post-violent situation like the back of his own hand.

Karen's body tensed at the touch, but she allowed herself to be guided into the room - the man seemed genuine enough, and at this point she hadn’t much energy to protest. Today had left her body and mind in a weak state, first the book burning, than- Her eyes which had been vacant of emotion snapped to the gentleman as she was dragged from her thoughts. Wary of his concern, her brows furrowed together. “I simply fell, sir. I’m quite clumsy.” She replied, the statement sounding practiced and unconvincing - as it was practiced, and she hadn’t the heart to play the ‘poor misguided soul’ at the moment. Most like this stranger would be gone in a few days anyway. Travelers never stayed long.

Her eyes looked around the room now, not wanting to meet his gaze any longer. It was dark – due to the hour outside, but the coals in the fireplace and the one lamp on the nightstand wall cast a dim light that was oddly comforting to her. The room was plain and simple, and the lack of luggage and this man made it seem more so. It wasn’t busy, like the rest of the city. She liked that. Gripping the handle of the basket in her hand, she remembered why she had been sent here in the first place. Clearing her throat, she lifted the basket – the fruit getting jumbled and threatening to fall from the action.


“I’m here to welcome you to the city.” She said her voice flat. What she really wanted to tell him was ‘Get out, while you still can... Get away from here – and take me with you! But she couldn’t very well do that. “Our Priest – Holy messenger of the Gods – has invited you to attend our service tomorrow so that you may thank the Gods for your safe arrival to our town.” She recited, her voice void of the affection one usually had towards their faith. She had been given no reason to love the Gods, or the Priest. Shifting her feet, she quickly moved over towards the bed, placing the basket down and looking eagerly towards the door. If she were quick, she might have time to visit her old cabin in the woods. It was still there, hiding some books that she managed to hide from her husband – and other small treasures as well.

“I recommend you go,” She said, her own words finally leaving her lips. “The city does not take kindly to strangers who do not pay their respects.” It wasn’t a threat, just a warning. From what she heard, the townsfolk had already taken a liking to this young man. She wondered how people would react if she stood on a crate and spoke her mind... Most likely they would throw stones or old fruit.

Benny was silent. This young lady seemed so devoid of emotion, mainly when speaking of the gods worshipped by just about everyone, the priest, the church. Others smiled, or at least held a warmth in their voice when mentioning anything of their religion, which was only obvious to Benny anymore. He watched her worriedly, studying her. The mention of clumsiness was lost on him, no one could have hit both their lip and eye in the same short time, unless they had been confronted or harmed by someone.


“I’d be more than happy to attend your priest’s service.” He said at last. “It must be something to behold. I noticed how extravagant your church was, compared to the other buildings here.” He stepped aside, going to the lamp to lift its light a bit more. He would also have to get a bit of wood for the fireplace before nightfall. But at that point, all his concern was for the young woman who had so suddenly come by with a basket, looking as though she had just escaped an attack by demons.


He watched her move about, and crossed his arms. She seemed adamant that he leave, or at least go as soon as possible. He stepped forward, putting his arms down. “Of course I’ll be sure to pay my respects, as soon as possible. But I’m only human. And all humans need rest, don’t they?” He leaned forward, looking her in the eye. “But you know, I cannot simply believe you’re clumsy. Please, tell me the truth. I’ll not see you as any less of a person either way. It will put your mind at ease, if only a bit. I’m here only to help, listen and do what I can to see you, and anyone else, through any hard times they may be going through.”

Karen could do nothing but blink for a moment, caught off guard. Her mouth opened, than closed as she tried to fish around her mind for something to say. Her thoughts were swimming, and her heart hammered against her chest at the proximity. When someone was this close it usually didn't bode well with her. Swallowing back her silence, she took a step towards him, standing on her tippy-toes so she could be eye-level with him. Her eyes glanced down at him, and his plain garb before she looked back up at his eyes, huffed, and crossed to the other side of the small room - but the distance between them was still to small, in her mind.

"You're good, I'll give you that sir." She said, turning back to face him. Her hand subconsciously went to rub her swollen lip before they slammed down to her sides. She seemed to be in a right state at the moment, her apathy replaced with heated anger. "Is that your game than? Come to town preaching like you did, try to make people feel better?" Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. She hadn't voiced her opinions in so long... it felt good - tasted of freedom. Her eyes swiftly moved to the trunk beside the fireplace."Is that it? Are you some sort of thief?" For all she knew the trunk was filled with stolen goods.

"Or a demon perhaps? Who likes to feed off the misery of us humans?" She was agitated, and everything about her showed it. Her tone, stance, the way her hands kept balling into fists. Yet, she didn't know how else to receive kind words... as she was so used to them being a double edged sword. "Or, or maybe you just get off on the misfortune of others... Asking what has happened to me..." She trailed off, a pained expression on her face. Her arms now wrapped themselves around her, as if to keep her all in once piece.

Benny’s eyes softened. They hadn’t been that hard to begin with, though. He breathed deeply, going to the simple wooden chair in the corner, and sitting himself down. Indeed, these words didn’t bother him. They didn’t cut like they were supposed to, catch him off guard, force his heart into erratic pounding. He studied the girl for a moment, then turned his gaze to the floor.

“I’ve been accused of many things.” He said at last. “Of being a demon, devil in disguise, some false prophet, corrupt god, or something that managed to crawl out of Hell to spread displaced influence. This doesn’t bother me, however. I despise misery and hatred, the only real dislike I harbor. I’d prefer the lives around me to be easy, light-hearted, able to smile and laugh when necessary. It pains me to see this world in such disarray, my dear. I’m no demon, at least, not that I know of. I try to be the best I can be and help others, like you, see life for how good it can be, not how bad it is now or how bad it can be. I don’t try to preach corruption into the minds of others, or give bad names to the religions they follow. I accept what they wish and only ask they do the same.”

He looked back up, but turned his attention to the glow in the fireplace. It didn’t give off much warmth. “And in this chest, a chest that was already here upon my arrival, sits my one truly loved possession. I don’t have, nor do I want, much out of life. I only want to spread what happiness and hope I can where I go. It may be difficult, but life is fraught with difficulties. I accept them as they come and never hold a grudge against someone who may think ill of me.”

With that, he leaned back, drawing from his pants pocket a pendant on a brass chain. It was a star with dual circles surrounding its points, resembling the emblem burned onto the leather cover of the book he had hidden away in the protection of the chest nearby. He didn’t say a word, but studied it for a while.

Karen took a deep breath, moving over to sit on the bed. It squeaked in protest, but other than that the room was silent as Benny spoke. She listened to his words, eyes widening. The concept was so... foreign to her, so strange. Hope was something she hadn't allowed herself to have. It put wild fantasies in her head - a life free from her beloved husband... alone with the wind and her thoughts to keep her company. But it was already made perfectly clear to her that she would never have this - not without giving up the one bit of herself that she owned.

"If you insist on helping people, why not get rid of the bad in their lives...instead of giving them false hope?" She questioned, accusingly. "Its a nice thought, but hope isn't going to save me from being raped and beaten." Like Benny Karen went silent. She had never said it aloud. Raped. It made her feel.. violated as if it were happening right at the moment. Her eyes fallowing his, she wondered curiously about the trinket in his hand. Some symbol of hope? Perhaps.

"I wish I could be as forgiving as you say you are. But there are some things that don't deserve to be forgiven. Sometimes I think that these Gods the villagers worship... They're just men - who glorified themselves, made themselves into gods... For no Gods could actually be so cruel as to allow this misery..." She admitted. Her eyes moving to the door, as if afraid someone would over hear her. She made a sound, as if disgusted by herself. When did I become this meek creature? she questioned, remembering life before her father died.

Benny knew something else was wrong. He could sense it as soon as the woman had made herself known. He didn’t smile, nor did he frown. He stared placidly at her, almost through her, as she moved, setting herself on the edge of the old bed. “You’re right.” He said at last. “In truth, there doesn’t exist three gods, the gods of good, bad, and neutrality. There exists one god who created all that is, good, bad, and everything in between. However, he can’t see everything at once. He may be all-powerful, but there are many others in the world who have it far worse than me, than you. People who struggle each day for one more breath of life, for they fear death and what comes after. They fear being lost forever. If indeed you’re in pain, harmed and forced to lie each day, you have to do something. Leave.”

He was silent again, for just a moment. “But if you’re afraid to leave, why not simply... lose your life? If you believe in anything other than this misery you exist in, why not see if there could possibly be anything better after your soul is released? It doesn’t make sense to simply exist in hatred or sadness, does it? Which brings me to the concept of false hope you say I try to give: I don’t give false hope. I take what hope people have and magnify it. I cannot dole out massive promises to make life easier, or get rid of your hardship. I try to inspire anyone who will listen to make their lives better, however they can. Sometimes they have to go elsewhere to find that hope, or happiness, but it’s better to travel than stay in one place, simply... existing.”

He looked back to the item in his hands. “You may call me a blasphemer for considering the existence of only one god. But I know it’s true, and I speak with him every day. He may not answer all my prayers, but sometimes it’s better that way. What you aren’t given can be the best gift of all, because you have to find it yourself. I’ve seen him in my dreams, a nameless entity, ever-present, but watchful. He wants to know how you handle difficulties. And he rewards a well-lived life with eternal peace and happiness after death.”

He stood at last, pocketing the pendant, and moving to the door. “Now, my dear, I thought you had to take leave? You seemed very intent on taking off not a minute ago.” He opened it, staring with a calm gaze at the young woman.

Karen started at the open doorway. His words rolling around in her head. She felt self satisfied that she wasn’t the only one who discredited the so called ‘Gods’ the villagers worshiped – but of course she was skeptical of Benny... Preachers didn’t really have a good track record in her life. He had given her a lot to think about.

Standing up, she stood erect; with a sort of determination that belonged to the person she had been before her father had died. Walking towards the door, she stared hard at him for a moment. “Thank you.” She said, before walking out – the words being raw on her tongue. It had been so long since she said them and actually meant them. Halfway down the hall, she said over her shoulder without looking back: “See you at tomorrow’s service.” Almost ironically.

----

The crowd was large, almost too big for the church as the entire village was in attendance – any of the usual absentees here to catch a glimpse of the traveler who was still the hot topic of the town gossip. That of course, is what her dear husband had wanted... so he could show off. And, she had given him the exact fuel he needed.

As he started the service as usual, he hushed the group – and announced the topic for today. How being ungrateful was a bad characteristic, and should be punished early on so that the undesirable quality could be gotten rid of. “Sadly, I was too late with my wife.” He said, and at this the crowd made sympathetic noises towards him. It was at this moment as well, that he had Karen brought out. Her neck and wrists were tied up in a pillory, her lip even more puffed up than when she had arrived home that night. “She, after all I had provided for her – attempted to flee the city last night.” At this, he moved towards her, his hand delicately rubbing the side of her face. “I’m afraid after trying less strict measures, I’m forced to resort to this.” It was at this time that Karen, with hatred in her eyes looked up at him and spat in his face. A gasp of horror went through the crowd, and he priest quickly ordered her to the stocks for the rest of the day. Before they took her away, her angry eyes found Benny, and started accusingly at him.

Benny had waited for everyone in the small town to arrive at the church before making his presence known. In his dusty-brown clothes and striking blonde hair, he certainly stood out and it was obvious who he was to everyone who saw him move by. However, he didn’t speak unless spoken to, an event rare, because most were busy whispering and pointing to him. Certainly the town had never had such a thing to talk about, to distract them from the monotony of everyday repetition. He stood, however, at the left of the entrance doors, against the wall with his hands clasped tightly behind his back, as still as a marble statue.

Though the blasphemous words against his one true god made him cringe on the inside, Benny said nothing. The poor man, so looked up to, was simply misguided by stories of old, often mixed up and mistaken to be real, while the absolute truth was left to suffer in the gutter of destroyed myth. Benny’s face was stony as he gazed unblinkingly upon the figure before the altar, depicting three gods: One young girl of earth, life, and prosperity. One older man of wisdom, journey, and rational and irrational thought. The last, a gnarled old crone of death, disease, and sadness. Each were said to give the world balance, a balance of happiness and sadness, life and death, dark and light. Benny simply stared, however, with solidly emotionless icy eyes half covered in golden threads of hair.

He almost didn’t notice Karen, having been brought out at the preacher’s words, tied and bound, spat in the man’s face. It was obviously a shock to him, because he reacted immediately, and as she was marched down the aisle between the rows of pews, she gave him a death glare, as though he had forced her to do it. That planted a seed of confusion in Benny’s mind, and for the first time since he had arrived, he showed what he was feeling, raising a brow and cocking his head to the side for half a second. While his mind processed this, though, the service went on, and after a while, the congregation was dismissed with words he didn’t bother try to understand.

Benny wanted to leave immediately, so he could find Karen. However, as the group departed, moving about the roads and back to their stores and shops and stands, he remained in case someone wanted to speak with him. The decision was almost foreign to him, but one he felt necessary. Now with his hands folded in front of him, he watched as people went by, glancing at him, smiling at him, nodding at him, each of which he returned.

The demon shifted uncomfortably in his human skin. As he often did at these human gatherings. But, he had made himself a nice life, if not dull, from the money he made killing every now and again - and he didn't want to upset that balance by having the villagers question why he was absent from church. Though, he knew something was amiss... Something was different this time. He felt repulsed by it, but at the same time drawn to it. At first he thought it was the feelings of extreme rage radiating off the young girl in the stocks... Than he realized, after she was dragged out, that that was not the case. No - it was something else. Remaining in the church after most people had left - he quickly found the source. He smirked, his demon like qualities almost coming through in that grin.

Now that... that could make his life a whole lot more interesting.

--

The priest was quick to find Benny after people left. Every inch of him covered in false lies as he swung his arm around Benny as if they were old friends. "Now how about that, eh?! That is how you preach to a crown m'boy... So, did you like the basket? My simple wife did manage to get it to you...right?" He asked, his voice taking on a sympathetic tone as he spoke about Karen.

--

Karen's head stayed down in the stocks...Less food would drip into her eyes that way. But, when a pair of polished shoes stepping into her field of vision, she looked up. Into the grinning face of someone who she instantly recognized as not human. "Hello girly, need some help."

"I don't need help from the likes of you." She said, putting her head back down. She may deny the Gods of these people... but demons and hell were all to real. This she knew.

"Well... if you change your mind." The demon walked away - an almost sing-song tone to his otherwise unpleasant voice.


[[Eeep! Sorry this is short...just wanted to set a few things up for future posts. :] ]]

}I apologize as well! In fact, mine is much shorter because I don't have as much to set up as you do.....{

Benny hadn’t felt right through the entire gathering. Something, beyond the usual human corruption and sin, wormed its way into his heart. Something that didn’t seem to belong in the gathering. It was too... bad. But it vanished with the end of the congregation, and as he lingered, he felt almost relieved to not be in the same dwelling as the bad thing.

He didn’t quite expect the near-stranger’s act of affection. He didn’t pull away, though. That would have been disrespectful. He did, however, shake his head. “Actually, I do prefer the nondescript and sudden gatherings of strangers.” He admitted. “So that people may come and go as they please, rather than be forced to sit or stand in and listen to what they may not even understand in some cases.” He cleared his throat, glancing at the man to his side. “Yes, yes she did get it to me.” He added. “She’s quite a nice young woman. If... quite strong-willed.”

He rearranged himself uncomfortably, but said nothing.