Holier Than Thou

Trigger Warnings for unreality/dream logic, feelings of being trapped, references to past physical/religious abuse, symbolism connected to internalized homophobia, themes of death, and religious (Catholic) elements.

For a fair amount of time, there was just darkness. No Heaven or Hell awaited Max, only that space devoid of sight, devoid of feeling, and devoid of sound, even that of his own breathing.

This dragged on so long that a part of Max could only hope for Hell, for a greater suffering over being forced to face the sensory deprivation that was revealed to be his home now for all eternity. That wish was never answered and, instead, Max saw a flicker of light and felt the flutter of his eyelids in response to it.

When Max could finally feel again, his back was met by a cushy and velvety surface. Opening his eyes, he was temporarily blinded by the splashes of color shining onto him, with only some of the beams resembling the orange glow of the setting sun that had framed the previous garden.

When he was able to see after some effort, squinting through the unnatural glow to decipher its source, he realized he was looking up at a set of stained glass windows. Looking lower and around himself, he was trapped on all sides by a set of short, wooden walls in a very specific shape, with its top door opened and the other kept shut. He was in a casket, dressed to the nines with flowers clutched in his hands. They were white carnations.

One voice rang out amongst the rest, tall and speaking to a set of wholly empty pews upon his pulpit. There was the sound of that familiar organ, and it clicked for Max when he spotted that destroyed wedding cake on the side table.

"Here lies Judas Maxine Benedict. He was a son, never a father, though, if he had been given the opportunity, perhaps he would have been," his voice boomed, Max peering over at the priest with half opened eyes who did not do the same in turn, "He was as wonderful as his mother. Kind, caring, and a truly dedicated disciple of God."

The man was practically decaying himself, with wrinkles as far as the eye could see, wobbling with his impassioned speech, and weak eyes, constantly darting to look at nothing in particular. Within moments, Max's attention was snatched back to the casket, feeling a comforting weight on the compartment where his legs were contained.

A gray figure sat there with his feet resting on the table and his arms on his knees. Though he took on the color of the stained glass, the light shone in vain against the darkness ever present around his eyes.

"We've always hated funerals, have we not," the man asked, Max noticing he was holding his breath when he began to take a few.

Though the priest's ramblings continued, it was overtaken by the sound of that record static, becoming background noise to its tense airwaves.

"He's making this all up and we both know it. He barely knew her, or you. He says this at every funeral, but the repeat offenders refuse to call him out on it. Isn't that just fascinating?" the man said, grinning down at Max.

Max swallowed, keeping his expression tempered and managing to open his eyes wide enough for the narrowing of them to be effective. The man pouted.

"Now, don't look at me like that. You're the one that decided on this fate, were you not? You're the one that insists you want, no, deserve such things," the man said, coming closer.

He hovered over the topside of the casket, his shadow becoming darker as it covered Max's entire form.

"Although, is this really how you want things to end," the man asked, tilting his head with a light smile.

He put a finger on his chin, then Max's, giving it a few, gentle taps. The chill of his skin was refreshing compared to the balminess from inside the casket.

"No, that doesn't sound right."

Max stared at the wood of his casket, taking in every detail of its waves and the minor dents in its furnish. His forehead had become scrunched.

"I-"

Before Max could respond, a child's laughter filled the air. With it there was silence, and, looking up, the church had gone completely dark and the pulpit had been left bare like the rest of it.

"Hello?" Max said, shivering as his voice reverberated off the walls.

He waited, becoming still as he possibly could with his shivering and yet, no matter how long he waited, there was only silence. Max could feel himself begin to sweat, the spark of panic only making his body warmer within the confines of his mini prison.

The Man had vanished, nowhere to be seen no matter how many times Max squinted into the void. It gave him the opportunity to kick open the bottom of the casket, stretching out and wearing a faint smile as his legs were finally able to breathe. Next, he pried his fingers from the well wrapped flower stems, dropping the carnations onto the floor where they soon became shriveled and died.

It appeared the sound of the petals touching the ground alerted whoever Max was stuck in the room with, able to hear the pitter patter of small feet rushing away from him. The laugh echoed in Max's ears once again, causing him to sit up.

"Come and find me, Jude!" they called, before there was the clicking of a door, shutting behind the figure after they'd slipped out it.

Max carefully stepped out of the casket, dress shoes squeaking along the wooden floors of the chapel as he narrowly managed it without tripping.

The sound vibrated from the back of the pews, Max walking past them in order to follow it. He kept his hands in front of him, groping for a wall that would eventually be within his grasps.

"You're almost there!" the child called to him, shaking feet being encouraged onwards. 

Yet, after stepping foot near the middle pew, there was a sudden light, causing Max to wince at the sudden illumination stinging his eyes. Max squinted, covering his eyes partially as he attempted to find where it was coming from.

The window from behind that big, large cross on the center of the front wall had lit up. It was round, positioned near the top of the cross and, thus, causing a smaller cross to shine onto Max's face.

"Jude!" a voice called, causing Max to turn around.

Now with a light so bright it pierced through most of the darkness with dimmer circles, Jude could see that familiar, strawberry haired child standing at the back of the church. They gave him a wide grin, before waving him out into the main hall, returning back there himself.

"Wait!" Max said, rushing after them.

The light followed him, keeping up despite how quickly he ran. The pews felt as if they went on for miles, Max mentally counting and always finding the same amount of rows were left no matter how many he passed. He checked his feet, certain he saw them passing several floorboards and yet, at this point, he may as well have been jogging in place.

As he attempted different methods to push himself forward and out of his loop, there was a shifting of the light, obscuring the once cross with something else.

"Judas," a voice called, feminine in sound and causing Max to freeze.

He turned, seeing that shadow within the window. It clung onto the cross, just peering down at him.

"What have you done? It's okay, we can confess together, you just have to tell me," she said, the shadow folding her hands together in prayer.

Max found his hands mimicking hers, able to feel the gentle touch of lips against his own. Despite all his prayers and dreaming, that kiss had been as close to Heaven as Max had ever gotten.

"It's just, I…"

Max stared at her for a good moment, panting from his endless stumble and perspiring more at the sight in front of him. The act of brushing the sweat from his forehead gave him pause, pulling his hand away to look at the wetness now prevalent on his finger tips. His eyes widened, and something fired off in his brain like a lit stove.

"I didn't do anything wrong. I never did anything wrong. You were just…"

"Just what?" the figure asked, leaning forward in order to look Max up and down with her soulless eyes, "Judas, you know I don't like it when you trail off like that. It makes me worried. You wouldn't want to make me worry, would you?"

Max's body felt as if it were set ablaze, using his glasses to shine the light right back at her, those hands pulling back at the sudden flash of brightness.

"Why the fuck do you care?"

"Judas, mind your langu-" Magdalene began, but was interrupted, Max gritting his teeth.

"No, no I don't think I will. You're gone now, you're dead," Max swallowed, tears filling his eyes as the word dead repeated several times down the pews, "I always told myself I could live a happy life once you were gone. But, even though you're gone, everything you said and did keeps haunting me. I wasted so much of my life living by your rules. I don't want to do that anymore."

Max felt a heat around his face, and watched as the contorted skin was beginning to melt from it. It was set on fire, Max panicking for a brief moment until it came off his actual face painlessly. Beneath the skin was smooth, and his eyes were unblinking.

"You'd give up everything I and our lord gave you just for one boy? Honey, believe me when I tell you it is not worth it. Believe me, believe me please. Don't make mom mad, she doesn't want to have to hurt you."

Max's eyes narrowed, all the emotion, the sympathy, the worry, the fear draining from his face, becoming a flesh colored puddle on the floor.

"Goodbye, mother. I hope it was worth it."

He turned on his heel, the shadow wavering atop his form.

"Judas! Judas, baby, please! Come back here," Magdalene screeched and Max spit on the ground.

"Go to Hell."

Max gave one final glare before heading to the exit. Only, this time, he actually reached it. The church had become silent behind him, the shadows diminishing, leaving him with just pure light. The last thing Max saw before leaving were those carnations on the floor, springing back to life within the sunlight. 

The moment Max charged through those doors, he was met by Sam in the reception area, carpeted and with a wooden front desk, but not much else. Except, Sam was older again, crossing his arms with a huge grin.

"You told her off, didn't you?" he said and, when Max fell silent, just catching his breath, "I was waiting for you to. For so long I just wanted you to call her the bitch she is."

"Sam!"

Max laughed in shock, Sam coming closer and laughing along.

"It's true, she is…was," Sam said, flinging his arms open in offering.

Max walked closer, allowing himself to fall into Sam's warm embrace, clinging to him as if his life depended on it. He smelled of pumpkin and his arms were soft.

"Sam, I can't begin to apologize to you. I am so sorry I couldn't tell her off before. We should have stayed in touch. Then after we moved out…I don't know, something could have happened, maybe."

"It's okay", Sam said, Max able to hear both of their tears.

Their shoulders rested on the other's, Sam rubbing Max's back and Max giving him a good squeeze in turn. Both their black, funeral shirts had their color washed out by the onslaught of tears.

"It's not your fault you were hurt. It's not your fault your mother always had to be so terrible to you," Sam said, pulling away so he could look into Max's eyes, "But, now you can do whatever it is you want, Max. You can live."

Those words brought more tears to Max's eyes, Sam reaching up to brush at Max's soaked cheeks lightly.

"Y-yeah, yeah," Max said, unable to say more and Sam pulled him back into the hug.

The dream faded with those two remaining in their embrace from a third person perspective, long able to be felt by Max, even as the visuals began to fade to black. The chapel disappeared into obscurity.