since fallen into a moral decay, low wages and the ever increasing numbers of young parents , still nothing but children themselves , had began reproducing at an alarming rate. Groups of youths had started to gather with aimless lives to waste and chose to make others as miserable as they were, Father Jacobs, God bless him, had taken these wayward and lost souls and had gathered them unto him and into the embrace of the Lord. Soon those who had sought nothing more than mindless destruction and ruin began to exhibit signs of compassion and direction, the local area had been transformed as the churches outreach programmes started to pull in those who had seemed lost forever and transformed them as they transformed their own surrounding environment. Graffiti and rubbish were swept aside under a new broom of hope, those who had once sought only to damage were now repairing, the streets became safe to walk for everyone and those few who had not fallen in line had moved away without being seen again and good riddance. Delores had seen optimism run riot throughout the community as the church assumed its rightful place at the heart of the community, all things now ran through St Paul’s and she felt the pride of contributing in her own small way. She ran the churches schedules with military precision, from being the only volunteer to work at St Paul’s she now supervised sixteen others . T hey cleaned all corners of God’s house leaving the interior gleaming with pride, she organised the functions and rotas for activities such as the crèche and the soup kitchens, she personally cooked all of Father Jacobs’ meals and ran his diary. She was the only one granted access to the small rear office and now sat on her knees scrubbing the stone floor with cold harsh water and a coarse wooden brush, she ignored the screaming pain from her fingers as she paid her penance for arriving late this morning and not being at her masters side, the water ran red through the stone grooves as she attempted to eliminate the guilt through sheer effort and willpower.
Ba ine sat dispirited and confused on the park’s cold wooden bench, the once leafy green expanse was now dark and cold, the skeletal tree arms stripped bare of their coverings hung thin shadows over the brown mushy ground. The park was deserted save for an intrepid dog walker in the distance flinging a stick for a mindless dog of some indiscernible breed to monotonously retrieve it. H e was not yet broken but very close to it, his unshakable belief in his place atop the food chain had been shattered and the physical ease in which the priest had dealt with him had left an indelible mark. The corporeal wounds on his body had now faded away but their pain had sank deeper than the flesh, for the first time since this life, or any other he would wager, he had felt the debilitating gut wrench of fear and uncertainty. So he had wondered the streets allowing his injury’s to heal themselves in his customary manner, the priest had been faster and stronger than he could have imagined, he had been toyed with and patronised but a truly superior being. Now he stood at a metaphorical crossroads, his physical dissection had wounded him grievously, affecting his confidence more than anything. Gabriel had directed him to St Paul’s without any warning of just what awaited there, did Gabriel not know, was he perhaps not as powerful as he had led Baine to believe, perhaps Gabriel and the priest were somehow in league together, was the Cube truly real and did it hold the power attributed to it. The questions whirled around his head making him nauseous , normally his life had been laid out and simple, options were not an option, he was given a name, he followed that name until he took its life. Now he was awake, for the first time he stood alone, the choices splayed before him like a twisting confu sing spaghetti junction and he hated it . T he resentment burned deeply within him