"How easy it is for mortal men to live in blissful ignorance. To believe their own self righteous lies. But I have seen through the veil! I have seen with my own eyes the truth. Repent! Cast aside the fetters of ignorance…"
The old man certainly was drawing a crowd, he had to admit that, but then again promises of salvation always do. From where he was sitting perched atop an old wooden crate at the far side of the plaza Luis Craven could see the growing crowd of people coming to hear the old beggar's sermon. Some looked on half amused, others with hope, and some with a manic sort of adoration.
"People sure will believe anything." Craven couldn't help but grin. Where else in the world will you ever see the wealthy upper class rubbing elbow with the homeless and poor but in a tiny little plaza listening to the ravings of a madman, searching for some sort of salvation. "It would be comical if it weren't so damned sad."
The truth was that nothing could save them. Not money, not faith and certainly not some crazy old beggar. When death came, there was nothing come hell or high water that was going to stop him. "Or his lowly servants." Craven mused. He pushed himself off his makeshift chair and made his way down a small side street. It was filthy and dark, just the way he liked it. He made his way forward without hesitation, ignoring the occasional sidelong glances from some of the cities more unsavory populace and turned left into a small alley, barely noticeable, tucked away between two ramshackle buildings.
It was quite here, almost tomb like, his footfalls echoing softly on the solid concrete. He made his way along guided by the meager light that managed to make its way in passed the dirt caked windows of the homes that this lonely crevice was pinched between. He didn't need the light to see where he was going; he already knew his path and his destination.
There she lay at the far end of the alley huddled under ragged, filthy blankets. As he approached he saw how her body trembled, whether it was from the cold damp air or pain, he couldn't tell. He heard her harsh breathing as her lungs struggled to take in another breath. Slowly he kneeled next to her, her one good eye rolling upwards toward him. She was beautiful once but a lifetime of hardship had taken its toll and the plague stole that which was left. Her gaze met his and in it he could see the fear but there was also resolution. She was prepared, as best she could be at least, for what was to come.
"Rest now, your suffering is almost over." He whispered. He locked eyes with the woman one last time then closing his eyes he bowed his head and placed one hand on her forehead the other over her heart. He could feel her life draining away, her heart slowing, then stopping. Sighing he pulled the blankets over her face and made his way out of the alley, back into the noisy city streets.