The Eva Project
A Jerry Cornelius story
A soft grey moon blared at the country.
A man approached a lone wooden church, illuminated in the white glare of the moonlight. He smiled, stopped by a window, kicked it in. He dropped inside, down into the basement. The shadows closed around him, he stumbled threw the shadows.
A man pulled his head up. He flicked on the lamp, illuminated the shadowy desk. He revealed himself as a preacher, who stood up, and dashed through the door.
He stopped by the alter. He crossed himself, stared at the statue of the Christ lovingly. His eyes got misty, was broken by a voice behind him in the sanctuary.
"Forgive me, Father," Said the voice, "For I am stoned."
The priest spunned, stated into the shadows, saw, in the last pew, a large, hairy shadow.
"Who are you," the priest stammered. The shadow smiled.
"Ah. Starting with the difficult things first."
"You shouldn't be here!" The priest yelled.
"Neither should you."
The shadow had pulled something out of it's coat. It leveled it at the priest.
"You can't do that! I'm a representative of God on earth!"
"Well," said the shadow, smiling, "You're a piss poor represantave."
The priest screamed.
The shadow smiled, pulled the trigger, and burned the priest.
The shadow whipped the gun around the church, flames leaped up, consumed the church.
In the grey shadows of the moonlight, the church flamed and blazed. The shadow moved away, striding away causally.
The girl brushed her long blonde hair from her forehead, stroked Jerry Cornelius' chest.
"But, Mr. Cornelius," she said, "If you go around burning churches, aren't you just as bad as the kind of people you critized?"
Jerry Cornelius looked at the ceiling, sighed as the girl contied.
"Who can say?"
