continues from The outsider
(apologies that the first version of this didn't make sense, I'd actually missed David's earlier thread.)
"Our father, who art in heaven..."
David had started mumbling the prayer to himself over the course of the walk to the residential area. He'd moved swiftly across the island, arriving at the house just as the second day ended.
"Hole up here for a while. Think this through." he thought.
He snuck into the house and up to the attic. Through a trapdoor. This would work. This would definitely work for a while at least.
"Hallowed be thy name..."
He'd found himself thinking of his father more and more over the course of those hours spent walking. Would he be watching? Looking on his son with shame? David was a sinner. A sinner of the worst kind. A murderer. He was tainted by it forever now.
As he sat in the attic, thinking desperately, he found that he accepted that fact. He wasn't happy about it. But he accepted it on some level. "I have sinned, and in my sin, I am bound for damnation." he thought to himself, paraphrasing one of his fathers old speeches.
He thought of that and nearly began to cry. It wasn't fair. This was what his life was for? This was god's plan for him? To take a life to try and protect another. To commit the most mortal of sins? All his life, all he'd ever had to look forward to was this awful island and then what, hell?
Surely god had a better plan for him. Surely there was a way to wash himself clean of this.
"Thy kingdom come..."
As he'd woken the next morning to the sound of Danya's voice the answer came to him. So many killings. Not least of which included his own. Evidently everyone else here was as sinful as he. Murderers and monsters all. He became angry for a second. At least he had the decency to acknowledge his sin. Without doubt, they were all probably running around having the time of their lives.
He thought back to the people in the shack. They had seemed friendly. Of course, he was the one with the gun. They'd probably slit his throat in his sleep and take it from him, given half the chance. They deserved this. They all deserved to be punished. This was god's punishment.
It was such an easy lie for him to believe. Soon he bought into it without question.
"If this is god's punishment... maybe I can redeem myself by helping him carry it out." he thought to himself. He felt the guns weight in his hand and seemed to consider it.
"Thy will be--"
He looked up suddenly. He'd been staring intently at the portion of the floor between his feet and mumbling the prayer. Was that a voice? He lifted up the gun and pointed it at the trapdoor. He began to breathe quicker now. Nobody came through it. He slowly crawled over to the trapdoor.
"I'll finish later lord." he said. "Protect me from these sinners." he murmured as an afterthought. He gently lifted the trapdoor. There was a conversation going on downstairs.
"--out there? We're not going to attack. We're trying to get off this island."
Liar. He was sure of it. He had never been so sure of anything. All of them. They were killers. Sinners.
He listened. Let's hear your forker tongue, sinner.