Your Faith Is Mine

Black candles of varying lengths circled the entirety of the small ritual room, the shadows that were cast flickered and shifted, coating every surface in a sinister glow. In the center of the room was a black marble altar, with several different ritual items spread out evenly over the top. Papa Emeritus IV stood in front of the altar in his black and gold ritual robes, his face uncharacteristically stony as he stood before you. He took these rituals quite seriously, and it was a great honor in being able to preform them. Internally, he was brimming with pride for you. You knelt before him on a cushion for your comfort, while your arms were bound with eight bindings of black rope. This was a liberating ritual, and he was so happy for you to finally feel ready to be able to do this. "The preparations are all in place, I will begin at your consent."

"I consent." You spoke clearly and evenly, despite your nerves.

He nodded simply, taking a deep breath and exhaling it slowly, before raising his hand in the sign of the horns. "Ave Satanas." He lowered his hand and opened both of his palms up with his eyes closed. "Oh Satan, thief of knowledge and wisdom, indulger of desire and Great Rebel of old. Let us become as you are, as radiant as the sun, yet as dark as the moonless night. That we may live as we desire, free from tyranny and arbitrary law. Guided by empathy, compassion, and reason. To undertake noble pursuits guided by our own free will." He lowers his hands once more and opens his eyes to meet yours. "We gather here today to cleanse the mind, body, and spirit of the treacherous acts that have violated your bodily autonomy. We do this in the name of Satan almighty, the accuser, the king of hell, and the representative of the self." His voice was commanding and bold, booming in the small room as echos bounced off the walls. "We reject those who claim sovereignty over our bodies. The church, government, and God shall not lay claim to our actions, as they are to be done of our free will."

He circled the altar and approached you, gently placing his hand on the top of your head, his voice growing softer as he continued. "Let the light of Lucifer guide your mind and the let the strength of Satan embolden your will. Let the work of justice and compassion be done by your hands. Let the great strands of darkness web around your heart." He removes his hand and kneels to your level, gesturing to your bound arms. "These bindings represent your baptism, and your bondage to the misguided faith that would shackle your understanding, growth, and freedom. Let us now break the chains that have held us back." He stands and grabs a curved ritual knife from the altar, presenting it to you. "Do you believe in yourself, the only sovereign power in your life?"

You took in a shaky breath as your heart pounded in your chest, preparing yourself for what is to come. "I do."

At your word, he knelt down and took your arms in hand, slicing one of the several bonds cleanly— the one closest to your face. "Do you believe in the carnal bliss of fortitude by your natural desires?"

"Yes."

Another slice of the knife, taking care to mind to mind the skin of your arms. "Do you believe that salvation is only found by your rational and logical self?"

"Yes."

Slice. "Do you reject God as your false savior, the ruler of heaven?"

"Yes."

Slice. "Do you reject your baptism, that was forced upon your person?"

"Yes."

Slice. He was overflowing with pride for you. He wanted to smile, but he could save it for afterwards. "Do you wish to renounce the faith of your past, breaking free of your bonds and rejecting you baptism forever?"

"Yes."

Slice. There was only a single binding now, around your wrists. "Finally, do you banish the father, the son, and the holy spirit from thy sinful body?"

"Yes."

He sliced the final binding with a flourish, standing up and pointing the knife to the ceiling. "Then reclaim thy self, thy body, and thy true will in the name of Satan! Stand before him in glory of your newfound individuality." He gestures to you with his hand, urging you to stand. He gathers the bindings from the ground and places them in a wide metal bowl upon the altar as he stands behind it. Then, taking a vial of a thick yet clear liquid, he pours it over the bindings, chanting in Latin. With the knife and a small piece of flint, he strikes it with the knife, sparking the contents of the bowl as it bursts into a bright orange flame. The flames burn hot like the fiery lakes of hell, and the glow of the fire made Papa's face look haunting.

He allowed the flames to subside until the ropes were mere embers. He slides the bowl out of the way to grab a silver chalice and placed it in front of him. He raised his left hand, carefully removing the leather glove to reveal his hand. It was scarred all over his fingers and palm from the numerous rituals he had preformed. He set the glove down to grab the ritual knife once more, his palm facing you as he took the curved edge of the knife and made an even but shallow cut across his palm. His face remained serious and determined— if he felt any pain from the cut, he didn't let it show. Blood immediately began to pour from the wound and down his wrist. He holds his hand over the shallow chalice, allowing for some of his blood to collect. Once satisfied, he quickly wrapped his hand in a bandage for the time being.

He then took the chalice and made his way to stand in front of you once more, quietly chanting over the chalice for a moment, but what he was saying did not reach your ears. Once he was done, he took his right hand and dipped his fingers into the blood. "With the blood shed in the name of Lucifer, nunc auferam Deum ab hoc peccatore." He draws a crucifix on your forehead in blood slowly, the blood streaking down your face. He then makes the motions of the father, son, and holy spirit prayer over your body, before then drawing a line of blood across your neck to banish the holy spirit from you. "Per aspera ad inferi. You are now set free."

He set the chalice down on the altar and faced you once more. "May the morning star light your way. Your paths from this day forward shall now be blazing with hellfire at your feet. Move forward with conviction, for your paths are now forged of your own will." With the conclusion of the ritual, he finally smiled, beaming at the two siblings with overflowing pride.