Page 92 of Heathens
The screen begins to lower, and the lights dim.
“What is going on?” Auguste shouts, looking around. “Who—who did this?” His eyes find mine, and I match his blazing gleam with one of my own.
You’re going to hell.
A video begins to play, and I look at Lily from across the cathedral. Her eyes are shining—with pride, with gratification. A mirror to my own.
Evelyn’s face—large and clear—fills the screen. A few people begin to leave, unsure of what’s happening. I figured that might happen, so we made sure she started with the facts.
“My name is Evelyn Winters. On December 31st, 2014, I was abducted by a man named Auguste Martin. You all know him as Father Monsignor, and he stands here before you today.”
“What—how is this happening,” Auguste shouts, trying to block the screen, searching for his keys. His face is red—so red. Finding his ring of keys, he scurries away, but I know he’ll be unsuccessful.
“He raped me on numerous occasions. He sodomized me, and he sold me to the highest bidder. He made me have sex with strange men every night. Sometimes several at a time. He trapped me in his sex trafficking ring—thirteen other girls and me. He's not just an evil man; he's the worst kind of human. And he will pay for what he did.”
By now, people have stopped moving, and most of the audience is looking around, open-mouthed. Some are recording. Some are taking pictures. The video changes just as Father Monsignor jogs back up to the altar. I can tell by the look of pure rage that he was unable to use his keys. I stifle a laugh. His face goes white when he sees the current video.
The house.
The house where they kept Evelyn, and the thirteen other girls—it’s burning. Flames shoot out of the windows, the roof collapsing. More people begin taking videos. The security guards call the police from their radios, but it’s too late. His reputation—his church—is in ruin.
And the house?
We burned his fucking kingdom down.
The front door bursts open, and there’s an outcry from the crowd in the back. I see Lily slip away. Furrowing my brow, I step down from the altar just as a group of woman walks up the aisle.
Evelyn, Lily, and... I count them quickly. Thirteen other girls. Surprised, I find Lily’s eyes, and she gives me a nefarious smile. They’ve linked arms, and they are stalking straight to Auguste.
The drugs have rendered his legs useless, so he’s sitting on the stairs with his head between his legs. I made sure to pick the drug that will cause him to lose control of his bowels eventually. He looks up just as the girls reach him.
“You raped me,” Evelyn yells.
Shocked gasps fill the expansive cathedral.
“You assaulted my best friend,” another one shrieks.
“You kidnapped me.”
“You sold me to a man who beat me.”
On and on, they shout their accusations. Every single person in the cathedral stops talking. Every single person is videoing the interaction.
“You took me, and you ruined my life,“ Lily shouts, to my surprise. She'd planned this—she'd planned the finale. “But that's not why I'm mad.“ She holds Evelyn's hand up in the air, and the girls form a semi-circle chain around him, all raising their arms in solidarity. “I'm mad for these woman. I'm seething at what you got away with for so long. But do you know what happens to sinners, Auguste?“ Again, he looks up briefly, his eyelids drooping. “They fall, eventually,“ she spits, glaring at him with the kind of fury and rage I've never seen before.
I swell with pride—with love, and admiration—but mostly pride.
That’s my fucking girl.
Evelyn walks up to him, standing with her feet spread and her hands on her hips. “Push someone, and they will break, Auguste. Your time is up. We have all the proof we need, and we’ll make sure everyone remembers you as the monster that you are.”
And then they all walk away just as the police burst through the doors.
And despite the euphoria that he has been exposed, I also grieve. I grieve for the many who lost so much through his evilness. I grieve that I lost a man I had looked up to and aspired to be. I grieve that trust in the church and in God will be sacrificed once again because of one man’s greed.
I grieve.
Burn It to the Ground
