Anthony had not been waiting long for his sign. Within a few moments he heard somewhat slow steps, with clicking heels. It had to have been a female coming towards him, and that meant that he would be to go the other way. But from which way had the sound come? It stopped quite suddenly, and despite the silence, or perhaps because of it, the boy couldnt tell where his Sign was.
Was he not worthy of the task God had given him? The thought planted despair in his mind and he searched around, looking one way then another for the Sign. No, God would not give him a task and then such an impossible to interpret sign! It just cant be like that. In his slow panic he didnt hear the clicks, faster this time approaching clearly from his right.
He turned in time to see steel flying towards him in a manner about as controlled as his previous stick-waving had been. The stick! As if on its own, the hockey stick was brought up in front of him as if it might protect him from the metal mace. Honestly it didnt do much. The initial impact took some of the momentum from the metal, and lessened the force by being pushed back into the boys chest. His arm really wasnt meant to withstand that type of motion and a sharp pain exploded from his shoulder even more noticeably than the combined mass of hockey stick and mace being smashed into his ribs. One or two of those were probably broken.
Anthony stumbled back a step before falling down flat. He didnt think, or wasnt able to catch himself and the back of his head smacked against the hard floor. Tiny dots of color exploded in his vision, disfiguring the image of the slut whod attacked him. God, what had he done wrong? He knew shes been sent as punishment. There was no saving females; even if they repented for their past, they were still harlots painted red with original sin. Was this one of the devils own, sent to keep him from his mission?
G-get thee- it hurt to speak, to breathe, to get up. Be-hind me
Satan! He did all three though. He wasnt able to fight any longer in the physical sense, and knew as much. He must have had a rib poking into a lung, maybe not enough to tear through membranes, but enough to make breathing painful. That was not to mention the splintering hockey stick. The long handle was split several times lengthwise. But no, his faith, his God would keep him...right?
No, what if this was his punishment? Had God seen it that he should be killed now? He hadnt saved everyone yet, though! What was happening? What was going on? Had he finally been abandoned by hope?