Rebecca's Revenge

"Revenge is mine, saith the Lord!"

Rebecca's words bellowed triumphantly, as glistening tears streamed down her soft cheeks. At last she could hold her head up high and proud. The limp and lifeless body that lay naked between her spread knees had earlier screamed a chorus of agony, but now the mouth refused to sing anymore sweet notes for her. Closing her eyes she inhaled deeply then scowled; his filthy blood reeked of evil. The stench of a sinner! She smiled. Yes, but not strong enough to eliminate the gratifyingly unsoured smell of revenge. No longer begging and pleading for mercy, his deathly silence now washed her with peace and tranquillity she had once thought not possible. Reaching across to the bedside table she picked up the tattered bible, then holding it to her bosom, she whispered, "Praise the Lord. Cleansed—cleansed at last..."

Revenge is an ugly emotion. It's a poison that threatens the purity of your very soul. It's an abscess that time allows to fester into a ghastly wound. The more you try to fight it, the stronger it becomes until you feel as if it controls your very being. It's a frightful demon that possesses you and needs to be exorcised. You need to rid yourself of it, or you will never be righteous and clean. You can not enter the kingdom of heaven with tainted and impure thoughts of vengeance and loathing in your heart. You must rid yourself of the unpaid misdeeds of those who have sinned against you. You must cleanse your very soul...

Just a short time earlier his tears had fallen freely as he begged her. "No, Rebecca! Please, Rebecca! Don't do it!"

'No Father Paul! Please, please don't...' The trembling voice of a child echoed inside her head, her own words taunting and torturing. After today, they would haunt her no more.

The Lord moves in mysterious ways.

"Please, Rebecca. I beg you!" His pleads were like cruel barbs tearing open old wounds that had become toxic with bitterness and disgust, urging her on and giving her the divine strength required to do what needed to be done.

His chest heaved and his face glistened with sweat as he twisted and struggled, unable to free himself from bondage of the metal bands holding her hands and feet.

Her fresh and lovely face contorted and her eyes blackened with rage as she mined deep into her soul for the lode of cold hatred hidden beneath a guise of beauty, youth and innocence for so many years. Grabbing hold of his flaccid organ, she slashed the knife across his scrotum. He howled a hollow scream caused her to hesitate and recoil. Immediately blood sprayed from the gapping wound and splattering across her pale skin then pulsed out to form an ever-widening stain on the white sheets

God's children must be strong and brave.

"Please, Rebecca..." he pleaded, his voice now low and husky—almost a whisper between his whimpering and sniffling.

Wrapping her blood-smeared fingers around his penis shaft, she lifted the knife again. He gasped, and his watery eyes widened and bulged.

"Please. No!"

She gazed down. She smiled and slowly nodded, then she slashed the silver blade with full and hateful vigour to sever the evil tool from his convulsing body. A heavy gush of his warm blood squirted up over her belly and trickled down between her legs soaking her soft pubic hair. He screamed—a long harrowing squall of pain. Rebecca smiled. Every minute of his suffering needed to be savoured. No longer a strong or young man, how much could his now aged body take? His mouth dropped open and his lower lip quivered slightly before his face appeared to swell up and turn an odd shade of purple. He gasped a couple of times as if unable to breath, then his face lost its colour entirely, and his eyes dropped open to stare vacantly up at the ceiling.

"Praise the Lord..."

Rebecca held the severed phallic up and let the warm blood trickle down her arm. Today she had done a brave and noble thing. Angels in heaven would rejoice that one of Satan's servants had been slain.