Faith Forged in Pain
"Rooooaaarrr!"
One of the burly thugs I'd just smashed with the cross spun wildly through the air. But even seeing that, another one charged in fast, swinging a fist straight at me.
I'm no pain-insensitive freak, so of course a pro-level punch like that hurts like hell. The knuckles dig deep, bursting capillaries under the skin, crushing muscle, rattling bone. No way it doesn't hurt.
But pain is temporary. Stack it up against the measly hundred-odd years a human gets to live, and it doesn't last as long as you think. This too shall pass. Rain always gives way to sun, the ground hardens after. That's what everyone clings to, enduring their miserable lives, dreaming of a better tomorrow as they crash out for the night.
Like it or not, sooner or later, pain fades—that's the one scrap of comfort us humans can scrape together in this absurd, unfair shitshow of a world. And that's exactly why people fear the afterlife more than this one. You can end the current life with death, but who's to say death ends whatever comes after?
A fist smashing your face, shattering your nose, cracking teeth, blood pouring out—that's nothing compared to the endless agony waiting beyond. That's why everyone dreads dying. Imagine a pathetic sack of shit who's only scraped by for a century, now roasting eternally in hellfire. Anyone would quake at that.
That unprecedented terror forces faith on us. Unbelievers, those who don't live by God's will, those who defy it—they'll all suffer in hell and purgatory, or so the story goes. All that bullshit about respecting free will? Never existed in the first place.
We're just schmucks who got a short-term loan of about a hundred years from God, paying it back with "faith" as interest and a life of restraint as principal. Fail to cover even the interest? You're a slave suffering forever. Barely pay it off? You get to praise and serve your gracious lender eternally. Slave either way.
They're just fighting desperately to survive, same as everyone. I stared blankly at the guy who'd planted his fist in my face, thinking that.
These types have no bandwidth to nurture faith in God or live some pure, restrained life. If they did, they wouldn't be swinging fists like gangsters in a dump like this.
Born unequal, stuck in shitty positions and environments, they endlessly weigh their human lives against their duties as believers. You think the world's full of ascetics? Keeping the Ten Commandments, achieving world peace, erasing wealth gaps for true equality—fat chance anyone believes they can show faith in that paradise.
From the Absolute's view, the terms seem reasonable. But to humans? Zero consideration. This world makes it damn near impossible to live humanely just by being honest and good. Without born privilege or cash, even devout faith is a luxury.
I grabbed the guy's wrist, yanked it down, and smashed the cross into his crown. Skull caved in, blood and brains spraying.
Sinners die on the cross—so for them, it's heaven, not hell. No matter who points fingers calling you sinners and damning you to hell, I'll send you to heaven.
You all deserve less suffering in the spiritual realm. No need to fear the afterlife. The whole system's fucked from the design stage anyway.
"Die!"
Puuk! The blade plunged into my gut, searing like a thousand needles stabbing my tender insides amid blistering heat.
But I can't die. Lived a fuckup life worth dying over, sure—but not yet.
"Who'll send you all to heaven if I kick it?"
"Wh-what?!"
"Who'll speak for your fucked-up lives, ease your pain, guarantee your afterlife? Me. I want to. I have to."
By my free will, I'll elevate every sinner to heaven, slam shut hell's gates, break this goddamn cycle. That's why I can't die.
"Th-the blade...!"
The knife slid out of my abdomen on its own. Fresh flesh filled the wound, pushing it free.
"Believe in Jesus. Better a slave licking his feet for fake eternal life than burning forever in hellfire. Weep praises for him, burn your own soul to keep heaven's light shining. Then you'll bask in his grace forever."
I snatched the blade from the guy thrusting it again and drove it hard into his forehead. Down from above once, left from right once. Carved a massive cross between his eyes.
"The Holy Spirit descends on you now."
I forced him to his knees, laid a hand on his head.
"You are the cross staked in this earth, the peg binding sins—your earthly mission complete."
"Aaaaaahhhhh...!"
White tears streamed from his eyes, his gaze blazing bright. His soul fled the rigid body, which morphed into a stake binding the overflowing sins of the world. A massive human-shaped cross formed.
I turned from the empty black husk.
The thugs clutching weapons to charge me just gawked in horror.
I could see their sins. Right now, they doubted. This can't be real. But doubt heals with faith. This can be real. If Jesus exists, so does heaven—unbelief leads straight to hell, no doubt.
Time to choose: Believe in Jesus and go to heaven, or go to heaven and then believe.
"First Corinthians, chapter 13, verse 13: 'And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is faith.'"
Greatest is love, right? Nope. The one claiming love's supreme built a world that doesn't prioritize it. In a loveless world, hope crumbles, leaving only manic faith. Greatest is faith, hands down. With faith, even loveless beasts or hopeless shells get saved.
So I'll inject it into them now. In a world without love or hope, they at least deserve faith. Faithless humans mean nothing to God.
"Faith's first gate: Abandon selfhood. Don't see yourself as a person. You're a machine existing to praise Jesus. Embrace that sincerely—that births pure faith."
"Y-you psycho...!"
"What the fuck are you waiting for? Kill him!"
"Get this bastard off first!"
S-man, brimming with faith, charged the thugs without a second thought. Even if it'd make him bloody pulp, he wouldn't stop.
The Holy Spirit dwelled in him already, no exaggeration. But the faithless cowered like primitives before fire. Ignorance breeds fear.
To gain faith, discard the self. No room for fear or doubt—they're meaningless. If only words sufficed, but most sinners can't swallow it easy.
That's why I'm here.
Crack!
"Gaaaaahhh!!"
"You fucking maaaadman!"
"Krak! Aaaaaahhh!!!"
I swung the cross wide at the pack stomping S-man. Limbs snapped and crumpled.
Pain. The emotion that zeros in on "it hurts," sidelining the self for a moment. That's why I don't dodge it.
The easiest way to ignite rabid faith, the most groundbreaking to sustain it: pain. In agony, useless thoughts vanish. Even if some linger, no biggie. Pain isn't everything in forging faith—just enough to delude them into thinking they believe. That turns sinners into non-sinners.
Delude yourself your sins are forgiven, slather on the spiritual bleach I provide, claim purity, and ascend to heaven. That's my faith, yours too.
I slammed the 50kg cross into a legless thug's face.
"Jesus heaven!"
Thud!
"Unbelievers hell!"
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Hallelujah.