The Hero

"Father, it has been three months since I last came."
"And why is that?" Father Martin replied.
"Well honestly sir, I have been real busy."
"Too busy for absolution?" Martin questioned.
"Well, sir, that's why I'm here."
"To confess or explain?"
"I am here to...ugh, stop asking questions and listen."
"That sir, is what I am here for."
In the dusty Maryette Cathedral, it was starting to get dark. Father Martin would have questioned the reason for the late time, but Gregory Benson insisted, and Father Martin agreed.
"Ok , I am going to talk, and you are going to listen." Gregory explained. "Ok , it all started when I was sitting at home...wait, you're recording me aren't you."
"No, no recording on my part." Martin replied.
"Ok , because if I find out that you are recording me, I am going to rip..." And just like that, Gregory stopped in his tracks, as if reconsidering what he just said. "Ok , but remember no recording. Ok , I was saying, it all started when I was sitting home on evening, and I heard these voices. At first, I thought they were in my head, but looking back, I see they were probably from the demons under my house."
At this point, Father Martin was starting to worry, but he worried more about what would happen if he refused to hear Gregory's confession. So he settled down for the long hall.
"So, at first, these voices were quiet, but over time they became louder. With in two weeks, I couldn't stand them anymore. I tried many things to quiet them. I had hoped that alcohol would work, you know...have an excuse to drink myself sick. But that didn't work. Finally, after several failed attempts to kill myself, I stopped blocking them, and just listened to them. And that is when things started to get weird. The first voice that I heard and the one talking right now was the worst. The night that I decided to listen, I was home watching a movie, I don't remember what movie, but that isn't important, is it?"
Father Martin decided to just sit, and listen to Gregory, similar to what Gregory did with the voices. This proved to be a good strategy, because almost as soon as he stopped worrying, Gregory continued. "Yeah, the movie isn't important, but I'll tell you what is, yes sir, I will. What is important is what the voice said. He said "KILL." Just like that, nothing else, just "KILL" and I'll tell you what, that scared the hell out of me. Yes sir, that scared the hell out of me. And he knew it did, yes he did, because after sayin' that, I could have sworn I heard him snicker, then he went silent. Now of course I could still hear the other voices, but they didn't bother me near as much as his silence did."
Eager to get this encounter over with, Martin tried "Is that all?" But Gregory, ignoring Martin, kept talking.
"Well, what he said really, he must be filled with magic or somethin , all I know is after a while, I only thought that, I only did that."
Martin gasped quietly.
"You see what I....mister, I done something real bad."
Eager to rid himself of the evil contained in this man, Martin tried to speed things up.
"Well, I have heard your confession like you wanted. Since a demonic force led you to commit these acts, you have been absolved, and you are free to go."
A hand shot through the netting separating the two men, and grasped Martin's arm.
"Hey, whoa, that hurts...please." Martin pleaded.
Gregory started to laugh. A both pained, and bewildered look crossed Father Martin's face. "Wuh ?"
"You priests...all so gullible, he's possessed, demons, ha ..."
Gregory violently wrenched Martin's arm up, and dragged him out of the confessional through the confessor's entry. Martin hit the stone floor with a wet crunch. Grimacing, Martin pulled himself up, and tried to speak. "Why?"
The fist that then smashed into Martin's face, both dislocated, and broke his jaw, meaning it would never be put back in place. Blood streaming down his face, Martin looked up for his answer.
"Because," was all that came. Gregory picked up Martin's left leg, and used it to drag him toward the back of the church. Martin's mind lit up with the terrified thought of what a man like Gregory could so with the long flight of stairs connecting Maryette Cathedral with its deep, unused basement.
Reaching the stairs, Martin lay quiet, hoping Gregory would forget about him. The hope was shot down when Gregory brought a pair of ropes.
Martin was still confused then afraid, but the balance was skewed when he saw Gregory start to tie a large noose on each. Leaving Martin laying on the floor bathed in fear, Gregory proceeded to use the old wooden ladder halfway up the stairs to fasten the ropes to the chandelier on the ceiling. Confident it would hold, Gregory slowly made his way up to where Martin lay on the ground.
"Get up." Gregory said.
Father Martin got up as fast as the pain now through out his body would allow. Gregory clasped Martin's hands behind his back, and taping them together, grabbed one of the swinging nooses, and slipped it over Martin's head. Before Martin could speak, he slapped a piece of tape over Martin's mouth, then grabbed the remaining rope, and slipped it over his own head. Looping his arm through Martin's, he uttered his last words, "Because, because I wanted to die with a hero." Then he jumped.