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Writer's pictureShannon Smith

Let Me Tell You a Story About the Temple of the Forever Child


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On the hill overseeing the valley stood the Temple of the Forever Child in its stone glory. The tall structure, originally a castle long left in ruin, had since been reclaimed by a religious order. Stained glass decorated the windows and the rooms were lovingly furnished, modestly yet comfortably.


It loomed as two guards from a nearby town marched, escorting a group of street kids commonly called Ratkin. The RatKin were not actually rats, but human children taken and modified by gangs and criminals to have a rat-like appearance, then forced to panhandle on the street, scamming coin from well-intended passersby. The process of doing this also stunted their minds to the point where they could not look after themselves.


“Is this necessary?” one guard asked the other.


“What else should we do with them?” answered the other. This silenced the guard.


At the gates to the temple, a young nun greeted them. Her white habit covered much of her form except her face. She took a quick look before saying “Are you here to drop off forever children?”


“Aye miss,” the one guard said, “Picked them up for loitering and soliciting.”

“Of course,” the nun replied, “A sight all too familiar.”


She led them into the temple, navigating the halls to a throne room long converted into reception. As they walked they passed by several rather round individuals with droopy eyes and dried lips. In reception, a priestess in green and white stood to look over the RatKin.

“G’day ma’am,” the guard said to the severe-looking woman, “We picked them up from the street and…”


“...and you don’t know what to do with them.” the priestess finished his sentence, “Yes, understood. Thank you for bringing them here, and not to the prisons or the gallows.”

“Well, yeah,” the guard looked to his feet.


The priestess smiled. “By God’s decree, all life is sacred. All life. From birth to death. The thought of discarding a life because it's too ‘burdensome’ is such a vile idea.”


Behind them, several nuns and individuals entered through unseen doors. One appeared normal, except he squeed an odd tone. “Take Trever there,” the priestess pointed, “Born to poverty. Once his family realized they had a forever child, they brought him here.


“Or that one,” she pointed to a man being dragged along in a wheeled chair, completely immobile and thin with atrophy. “Bernie. Left here. I think you can see why.”


The guard nodded.


“Many forever children are abandoned because no one can look after them, or they don’t want to - some here are from rich homes.” The priestess continued, “Others, victims of circumstances - God’s plan requires some to be made as forever children.”


“Forever children…” the guard said slowly.


Formalities done, the guards left the RatKin. The nuns, monks, and priests all got dorms for them.


The forever children. Called this because they will never grow up, get a job, marry, or start families. The Temple of the Forever Child is where they go so they can be looked after and kept comfortable for as long as they need.


 

Wrote the story above for the Let Me Tell You a Story flash series curated by Lilith Wong. More stories from other authors can be found here: https://lywpoetry.substack.com/



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Rated 5 out of 5 stars.

That's very well written. In those words, images were forming in my minds eye.

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