The Suicide Society

Frontier Creek, Wyoming
1968

His heart pounded as he stepped up to the stand, cold sweat dripping down
his neck. His stark white robe swished against the ground when he turned to
face the group of curious onlookers. He was uncertain of his decision to
give his life to the Sin Eater, did he really want to give his life away
just to be reborn again? He concluded that, yes, he needed to be saved from
the life that had held him in his problematic rut. The crowd hushed and
leaned closer, for this was the first man to agree to be inducted.

The dark cavern glowed with the small inkling of light breaking through the
round ceiling. Behind the young man with the long blonde curls and ice blue
eyes were the ways of rebirth that the Sin Eater offered. They were cast in
shadows, the befouled men and women hadn’t seen what would happen in the
end. When they agreed to save themselves, they’d banish their blood red
robes for the pure white gown that they would awake in, to symbolize their
innocence as a new person, one of higher virtues.

“Do you, Lewis Hartwell, agree to abide by the rules and government of the
Suicide Society, resting your misfortunes into the hands of the Sin Eater,
allowing him to free you of your troubled times for you to be reborn in the
ways of our heavenly savior?” He gulped and watched the once quiet crowd
begin to mumble and shuffle their feet, expressing their thoughts without
breaking the heavy silence upon them. What did the oath mean? And who was
this Sin Eater?

He shook the curls away from his eyes and loudly declared, “Yes, I, Lewis
Hartwell, shall abolish my wrong-doings and let the Sin Eater cure me of my
troubles. I shall not challenge the rules set in the stone by the Sin Eater
to help us learn to live in peace and harmony. I shall be the first, but not
the last, to lend my soul to the Sin Eater for safekeeping while I travel
through the Waters of Tranquility and cleanse myself of the horrors my old
body has done without my approval.” He nodded at the man in the black who
presented the chalice. The black obsidian glimmered as the silent man passed
it to Lewis.

He dipped his hand into the clear paint and pressed it to the low ceiling.
When he removed his hand, he snapped his fingers and the assistant provided
him with a black light. He moved the light over his handprint, making the
mark glow a bright blue. Above it the Sin Eater had written earlier, “We Are
the Suicide Society, We Shall Never Fear Death in the Eyes of Our Savior.”
He signed his name next to his handprint and turned towards the crowd. He
looked into every set of fearful eyes and the confidence of his path started
to set in. He held his head high as he strode to the raised platform again.

“Lewis Hartwell, you have darkened your soul by leading yourself down the
tarnished road and tempting yourself with Wrath. The sudden fury has
destroyed your house and family, leaving behind only carcasses of what you
could’ve had. You murdered your kin and neighbors, sloshing their combined
blood across your bedroom. You drank it, bathed in it, and laughed while it
drowned your youngest daughter at the age of three. Is this your sin?”

“Yes, Sin Eater. I fell from my high values to wallow in the Seven Deadly
Sins’ arms. Please, Sin Eater, rid me of my transgressions.”

The cloaked man threw back his hood to show his white hair and bellowed out,
“Are you ready to be washed of your sins and to become a better man for the
world around you?” Lewis nodded frantically, his blonde curls bouncing by
his ears. The Sin Eater pulled off his black gloves and showed his calloused
and worn hands. “From these broken hands I shall relieve you of your
troubles and send you to cleanse yourself in the waters. Come back when you
wish, but only when you are ready to begin your life free of temptation and
wrong-doings.” He placed his cold fingers to Lewis’s damp brow and made a
circle on his forehead, “Be calm when you pass through the waters, for if
you are not, they shall clog your peacefulness and never let you go.” He
reached for another cup on the small table and brought it in front of the
young man. “Drink, let it fill your mind and strip away any fears or
disorder.”

Lewis touched the cup to his lips, watching the Sin Eater drop back into the
shadows. He threw back the concoction, the bitter liquid burning his throat.
He coughed, trying to clear his airways. The colchicine had started its
descent into Lewis’s system and the Sin Eater smiled. The world would be
cleared of this man for at least a week, the world could be safe from
another wrath-driven waste of space. He took the cup back and addressed the
crowd, “Now,” he declared, “Lewis has broken the seal that God has made to
keep us from being born anew. Lewis is the first to become pure, the second
to understand why, and never the last to yearn for the peaceful glow of a
halo above one’s head. Young man of the Lord, how do you want to meet your
renewed self? The choice is yours, only yours to make.”

He wiped the sweat from his face and rubbed the back of his neck in thought.
“I choose,” he whispered, then cleared his throat, “I choose to be
resurrected by the waters.” The Sin Eater led him over to the wading pool
behind the platform. Blue lights glowed from beneath the still water and
Lewis stared down at his reflection. The crowd stood slightly, trying to see
what the amazing Sin Eater would do next. The Sin Eater gently pushed Lewis
down to his knees, then moved his long sleeves up past his elbows. He rested
his hands on both sides of Lewis’s neck and hummed, trying to receive the
energy that Lewis’s soul would offer. He then lowered the man’s head into
the water, the wet curls floating along the surface.

“Be still and allow yourself to be changed into a better man,” the Sin Eater
whispered, calmly petting the wet curls. Lewis began to thrash, the last of
his air supply releasing from his lungs. He screamed, air bubbles racing for
the surface of the holy water. “I’m just trying to save you!” the Sin Eater
cried, shoving Lewis’s head in farther while his arms were trying to push
himself out, “This is your sin trying to remove itself from the holy water,
blessed by the rosary. Let it out, don’t allow the sin to possess you!”
Lewis struggled against the older man, but the wrinkled hands were
persistent and slowly Lewis stopped his flailing.

The Sin Eater released the man’s shoulders and murmured, “He’s in the arms
of God now. He’ll come back a better man.” Two of the Suicide Society
followers shouldered the empty vessel’s weight and laid him down in the next
room. They closed his eyes and muttered a few prayers before drizzling the
body with gasoline. The single wood match lit the dark room and caught
quickly onto the corpse’s clothes. The room engulfed in flames while the men
walked out, thinking that they had done the right thing. The Sin Eater
grinned in the shadows; Lewis wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. He had
rid the world of a terrible soul and there were more out there. Everyone
wanted to be saved, one way or another.



Frontier Creek, Wyoming
1979

The team scoured the area, searching for the light-show that the neighbors
had reported for the last few months. With the land as flat as a roadkill
squirrel, the complaining citizens saw the blue light as if they were a few
hundred feet away. Mrs. Robinson, the last neighbor to report the mysterious
light, said that the glow originated from the inside of the cave in the
middle of the abandoned area. Frontier Creek was a small town, a home for
671 quiet townsfolk. When someone reported anything at all, the small police
crew was on it. It was either that or sitting in the hot office, waiting for
Ol’ Jim to play his cards in a dragged out game of poker.

The Frontier Creek Police Department consisted of six officers, seven if you
counted Ol’ Jim who sat in a rocker on the front porch with a shotgun,
swearing up and down that a pair of cowboy robbers would take the bank from
across the street if he even batted an eye. The chief had told the man many
a time that Pete and Mary Bloon were rotting six feet under, but he couldn’t
convince the ninety year-old man to give up his gun. So he hired Ol’ Jim as
security.

Their flashlight beams pierced the dark cave, searching the corners for
snakes and other aggravated wildlife. The five men shook their heads when
the cave lit up like a Christmas tree, revealing nothing that would harm
them. They trudged in with their steel-toed clodhoppers. The cave was small
and there were no holes in the walls that could hide the equipment needed to
create such a powerful light. Officer Marshall Sanders breathed a quick sigh
of relief and swiveled to sound the “all-clear” when he stumbled, stepping
back to catch himself. The ground gave around his foot and he tumbled down a
vertical shaft. The other men scrambled down the metal ladder that was
unearthed in the opening.

“You all right?” the gruff voice of the chief echoed against the tunnel
walls, showing that it wasn’t a dead end. Sanders nodded, moving to stand
up. The men aimed their flashlights down the hallway, where it turned into
the deep dark underbelly of Frontier Creek. They slowly shuffled down,
turning the corner into an open area. Small mats lined the floor in rows of
twenty with seven columns behind them. In front of the lines of dark blue
mats was a raised platform that had a small light raining down on it. One of
the crew moved closer, and saw that there was a crack in the ceiling,
allowing the natural light to filter in.

“Wow,” they breathed as they took in the eccentric carvings on the walls.
The policemen split up to check for abnormal light sources. Officer Sanders
ran his hand across the wall, feeling the engravings as deep as a few inches
slide into ones that barely breeched the surface. The swirls connected with
ghastly eyes that watched the men sweep the auditorium like room. The newest
member of the group, Officer Seth Flanchez, walked over to the farthest
corner and flashed his light around. This was only his third outing as a
part of the police force and he was still full of the “newbie rockets” as
his colleagues called them and he bounced on the balls of his feet and
whistled a happy tune while peering around the corner of a rock formation.
He looked around at the other men and slid behind the stalagmite. He quietly
whistled the tune for Mission Impossible and jumped from behind the rock,
holding his flashlight like he would his gun.

“Seth, what in the blazing fires are you doing?” the chief bellowed from
across the room, startling the amateur. He mumbled his apologies and turned
back to the wall. Flanchez moved closer to the corner and saw a shadow
covering a small section of it. When he inched closer he noticed that it
wasn’t a shadow but an opening. He walked through, flicking his flashlight
over the uneven floor. After stepping down a few stairs, he sank knee deep
in the pile of ashes. They filled the floor, moving up the walls until they
brushed the second step where he had stepped off.

“Uh, guys?” he stumbled back up the steps and motioned for them to move his
way, “I think you should see this.” They gasped at the amount of ashes in
the small room.

“Are those...” Officer Sanders started, covering his mouth as the chief
lightly stepped into the gray mass.

“Yeah,” the chief answered quietly as he sifted his fingers through,
bringing a small pile to his nose to sniff. He dropped his hand, letting
them spin towards the floor, “Yeah they are. Those are human. There are no
remains of wood anywhere. This is just sick.” They all solemnly watched
their boss climb out of the remains of dozens of people. “I think we have a
mass murderer on our hands boys.”

They ransacked the caves, dusting for fingerprints and moving every rock for
clues. The ultraviolet light cast a blue glow across the cracked walls and
engravings. They found hair and skin follicles on all the seats and the
platform too. Seth moved the light back and forth over the wooden planks of
the platform, a fixed grimace etched in his young face. Shoe prints glowed
in the blue illumination. His long chestnut hair flopped in his face as he
scrutinized the pattern of one print. It was only on the farthest corner
from the sunlight. Officer Flanchez stood up, cracking his back as he went.
His black light briefly lit up the ceiling and he slowly passed it over the
section of the ceiling again.

“Uh Chief?” Seth called, looking over his shoulder, “I don’t think that it’s
a mass murder. We’re dealing with a cult.” He had found the symbol of
loyalty to the Suicide Society.

Raven’s Cliff, Maine
1982

The Sin Eater had fled Frontier Creek, searching for another godforsaken
town where evil ran through the waters, filling every soul with a black
sludge that would twist and corrupt their minds. His wanderings led him
across the Midwest and toward the Northeast. He stopped in Maine, as far as
he could go without crossing into Canada. A final stop for gas etched his
destiny in stone. The daily newspaper showed that a man and his daughter had
slain five women who resembled the mother. Evil was in this area, he could
feel it in his withered bones. Yes, this place will do just fine.

He travelled down the dirt road, passing houses that turned into farms and
then into trees. He parked his beaten pickup truck on the side of the road
and began to walk. He headed straight for the trees, searching for another
hideaway to begin his next chapter of the Suicide Society. He stumbled over
fallen trees and sidestepped small streams until he reached a small meadow.
The lush trees overhead blocked out any light trying to filter through. Over
in at the edge of the field, was a broken tree, the roots were sticking up
in the air. He moved closer, dragging his black shoes through the wet grass.
Underneath the cover of roots, was a large hole that sank at least five feet
into the wet earth. He crouched down and patted the walls of the hole and
found that it was packed hard. The Sin Eater jumped into the deep opening,
his black cloak billowing out above his head. The dirt beneath his feet
shifted, revealing that the shaft could be opened further. Oh yes, this
will do quite nicely.

He worked during the night, quietly stealing small construction equipment
and lights to dig more of the hole. Underneath four feet of dirt was solid
rock and his stolen jackhammer let him delve deeper into his new chambers.
Even with the noise, the trees embraced it, silencing the sounds of rock
giving way, keeping the Sin Eater a secret.

**

Raven’s Cliff, Maine
Present Day

He had finally finished. Underneath the fallen tree was a long tunnel that
ended with an auditorium, a large sleeping quarter for his guests, and two
small rooms off to the side, his own bedroom and the Room of Ashes. Now he
needed his followers. He sent out flyers, broadcasting a seminar where
people could be saved from the Seven Deadly Sins. With the murders still
fresh in their minds, people flocked to the meadow where he chose an elite
few to become his aides and a few others to spread the word around the small
county. With the others, he led them down the metal ladder, through the dark
tunnel and into the fire-lit room. They took their seats and he moved to the
platform.

The people gasped and looked wary when he told them of his ways to be
purified. He reminded them of the murders and asked them if they wanted to
become the same. One man stood up, dressed in the black robes that the aides
had handed out. He walked to the stand, changing into the white robe that
the Sin Eater held out for him and approached the platform.

“Do you, Lucas Stratler, agree to abide by the rules and government of the
Suicide Society, resting your misfortunes into the hands of the Sin Eater,
allowing him to free you of your troubled times for you to be reborn in the
ways of our heavenly savior?” He nodded his agreement and the Sin Eater
presented him with the cup of paint. The tall man wet his hand and pressed
it to the ceiling above his head. He then drank the red liquid, letting it
burn his throat as he held it for as long as he could. He passed the goblet
off and coughed to clear his throat.

“Lucas has broken the seal that God has made to keep us from being born
anew. Lucas is the first to become pure, the second to understand why, and
never the last to yearn for the peaceful glow of a halo above one’s head.
Young man of the Lord, how do you want to meet your renewed self? The choice
is yours, only yours to make.”

“I I,” he stammered, “I don’t want to do this anymore.” He walked off the
stage and back to his seat. The Sin Eater watched him with a small smile
behind his mask. He had drank the colchicine, and in a few hours, he would
be dead. He released the crowd, allowing them to go to their sleeping
rooms.

His bedroom was filled with the glow of a small lantern in the center by his
bed. He sat on the rough sheets, ripping his mask off his face in the
process. He swiped at his eyes, feeling the long scar tearing his face into
two halves. He picked up a small frame that was next to the light. Inside of
it was a note, the paper starting to yellow with age.

“Why did I take that deal, Crowley?” he whispered as he smudged the glass
incasing his blood signed contract.

“Because you had nothing else to do, except to let your son die,” the man
appeared behind the Sin Eater in a flash of light. “Oops, he already did.
Guess that didn’t exactly work out in your case did it, Jonah Phoenix?” He
walked around and grabbed the frame, “Aw, you still have it after all these
years? And I was the one that thought you hated me.”

“I’ve been trying to use it to get out of your dirty work. As King of the
Crossroads, you should be nicer,” Jonah growled and lunged to get the
contract back.

“Yes, but I’m a demon, and you really can’t expect anything nice out of me,
right? And it’s not that bad, look at your arm.” The Sin Eater pulled up his
long sleeve and saw his pain and suffering engraved on his flesh. As part of
the deal he had made with Crowley, he had to bear the words of God across
his body and bleed when a human committed one of the Deadly Sins. He watched
as the words on his wrist disappeared without a trace. Lucas was dead.
“After sixty years of this you would think that you’d get used to this.
You’ll never be able to break the link we have, you know. Just live with it
and relieve this world of the disgusting humans that live on it.” Crowley
disappeared, his brown trench coat the last to go.

The Sin Eater screamed as his open wounds bled profusely, the Bible cutting
deep into his very soul. Another human had twisted his soul by giving in to
the temptation of the seven Deadly Sins. The Sin Eater had to endure the
pain as the words that had just been erased were rewritten. He had to walk
the Earth, killing the people who had evil in their souls before he could
take his last breath. He pulled his knife from underneath the mattress and
sucked in a large amount of air. He thrust the knife into his chest, right
where his heart was. The pain made him double over and gasp quick breaths to
save his racing heart. Crowley’s voice came back to him as he moved to lay
down.

A phoenix may rise from the ashes again and again, but you will never die
until the last man who kills his bond with God is gone from every planet in
the universe. It was in the fine print. Sorry.