"Look at Me, I'm a Fucking Epic Heretic"
"Look at me. I'm a fucking badass heretic. I twist Jesus's words, deny the legitimacy of a religion handed down for thousands of years. And yet, no lightning bolt comes crashing down on me. That means Jesus either doesn't have the power to do it or figures there's no need. Why? Because even this shit I'm doing is part of his grand plan! Ironically, that makes me a being legitimized by him. Those apostates and heretics you've been slaughtering? They're no different from me."
"...They mocked and denied the one true Lord, so they deserved death. The harm they caused the world—and the harm they would have caused—was beyond counting. We executed justice under Him, and His teachings are flawless, so our actions were flawless too. You are a heretic, wicked, unfit to stand before the Lord—a mere beast. Today, in this place, you meet your end."
"Then prove it."
I slammed back another fresh cocktail in one go and said it.
"If your faith and conviction truly represent that mighty divine will, then break me. Just like humans banding together to drag innocents to the stake and burn them alive. Like buying and selling indulgences for sins without a care, waiting for heaven. Like stifling humanity's civilization and progress under the banner of religion, suppressing growth. If God's will is with you, then no matter what atrocities you commit, it all becomes perfectly just and reasonable."
"We are His sons and daughters, but also imperfect humans. Imperfect humans sometimes fail to fully grasp His supreme words or make mistakes. Each time, we repent, atone, and strive not to repeat history's errors. That's what makes us human."
"Wrong. Humans do grow spiritually by learning to distinguish good from evil through experience and knowledge, but shoving the blame onto God? That's not human at all. It's just like pampering pets who expect God to take responsibility for everything, forgive every sin, and cradle them all. The leash around your necks, the food that magically appears, the comfy homes. You're clinging to God because it's too damn easy—and facing a vast world where you have to own everything yourself is terrifying."
"Religion stems from faith. How can the faithless understand religion? How can they feel God's love? To deny the Father of all under whom we were born is to deny your own foundation. Aren't you the real contradiction?"
I knew they'd say that.
"Freedom comes from choice. How can someone who never chooses understand freedom? How can they feel its liberation? You're frogs in a well, chained for life to this 'Father of All,' insisting that's the only truth and denying everything else. No respect, no understanding, no empathy. Why do you think people who once believed choose to apostatize? Why do some know religion exists and still reject it? Because humans aren't meant for bondage—they're meant for choice. It's your goddamn fatalism, that 'our lives are predestined anyway' pessimism, that people are sick of."
262 drew his pistol and aimed at my forehead. The other inquisitors gripped their weapons again, baring their hostility.
"You call us caged birds, frogs in a well, blind to choice. But you don't understand our choices one bit. If humans are truly free to choose without bondage, what about those who freely return to God's embrace? Do you respect, understand, or empathize with their choices?"
"Bullshit. Entrusting your life to someone else isn't the same as forging your own path."
No matter how my life was a chain of trials and misery, even knowing God existed, I never handed it over. I never begged, Please guide me, pity me and care for me, shine a light on my dark future to banish the fear.
"I fucking love this goddamn world. Heaven demands fervent praise of Him alone, but here? Humans can do anything, be anything. Even decide our own 'end.' Unlike you lot, scrambling desperately for heaven, begging like flies every damn day."
"Hell is eternal torment reserved for sinners. For us believers to want hell—that's the contradiction, isn't it?"
"You should embrace even hell. Look at history. Your ancestors, way ahead of you, piled up slaughter in religion's name without a second thought. Oh, sure, they went to heaven—devout believers, after all. None thought they'd end up in hell. Why? It was just 'God's will' in action. Who'd dare question that?"
Pastors fleecing flocks with offerings and tithes, buying luxury cars and buildings to flex—they're heaven-bound too. Indulgence and faith are separate, right? Otherwise, heaven would be empty. If actions equaled faith, even David—slaying Goliath in 'God's name'—would burn in hell for murder. But the Bible's David was beloved by Him, so heaven it is.
What does that mean?
"With God's favor and faith, any act is justified. That's why you're pets begging for chains, shirking responsibility and ability. The opposite of humans."
Bang! Bang-bang! Bang! Bullets riddled my body again, but I just let out a hollow laugh.
"I chose to reject death. I'm a whole, upright human. How can pets like you deny a human's choice or break our will?"
"You foul demon!!!"
"Ah, yeah, people say that. Anything beyond their common sense, any unexpected outcome, and it's 'monster! devil!' Time to retire that tired repertoire—no more juice left in it."
But no worries. Call me demon, monster, whatever—I don't give a shit. They're just pathetic pets desperately calling their owner (God). Strike him down now! Prove our faith with a miracle! Show we believers triumph in this grand cathedral!
Of course, impossible.
"Bet riding God's power and will was a blast. Hope you enjoyed it."
"Eeeeek!!!"
"No need to fret. I'll grant your martyrdom or whatever."
In the hail of bullets, I calmly picked up a glass shard and hurled it sideways with all my strength. It sliced into a woman's nape mid-reload, blood gushing wildly. Straight through the carotid—unstoppable.
"Guhk, grlk? Grrrgh?!"
"Sister!!!"
"You bastard!"
I shrugged at their unexpected reactions.
"Why the tears? The rage? Isn't this what you wanted? Believing in Him fully, acting by His will, dying per His plan to ascend to heaven. I just finished the finale—shouldn't you thank me?"
Oh, or maybe...
"Wait, you think a mere human like me wrecked His plan? Snuffed out your sister's unscheduled life? You're turning into fine apostates—your faith's already flickering!"
"Shut your mouth, serpent! Your words are pure sophistry!"
"Your God's plan must be the sophistry. Deep down, you want to believe it. Your precious sister wasn't meant to die here, not to scum like me, not before judging more heretics. But she did—and now you're doubting: Is this really God's will? His fate?"
"......!"
"I get it, I get it. That's the fatal flaw of pets. Without the owner showing up, you can't even judge for yourselves. Is this really Master's will? You pray hard for clarity, but no answer comes. To the owner, you're just yapping dogs."
I grabbed another shard and flung it. This one pierced the heart of a guy charging with a stake-sword.
"Think easy. You've rationalized killing countless 'heretics' before. Now a human's politely asking: You've done enough dog shit—kindly fuck off to your heaven."
I'm volunteering overtime, no extra pay—be grateful.