Hello, my little dungeon-rats! Welcome back! ...Wait, what? Me? Late? No, you're imagining things. It's totally Saturday. I was not flaking out on you guys to hang out with real-life people in my real life. Totally.

Subject change. LET'S GET ON WITH THE CHAPTER. :D

Obtained Item: Disclaimers!
The Binding of Isaac, including all related characters (c) Edmund McMillen, because he's awesome.
Original story of 'the binding of Isaac' (c) Genesis 22, not that it applies.

Chapter 3: Judas Betrayed

Case Study: Isaac Peterson, Day 9

It was a touchy question, and in retrospect, I never should've asked it. This is a house of science, and I should leave theology to Father David. But I felt compelled to ask. I'm not sure if the red hat Isaac chose to wore today had anything to do with it - I hadn't seen it before today. A fez, I believe it is. Odd that he would come across such a cultural fashion statement out here.

Anyway, I made the mistake of asking Isaac about religion. There was a bit of clamor following the tragedy that says Bethany may have been delusional and misrepresenting God, so I was curious to see if this - and his current upbringing with Father David - had any effect on Isaac's stability. After all, those sketches of fallen angels must come from somewhere, right?

Isaac confesses. He's unsure what to think, but feels he can't tell Father David the story. (If I were in Isaac's shoes, I'd feel the same pressure.) When I ask him to tell me "the story", I receive yet another strange response that I wasn't quite expecting...

xxx

Isaac spent most - if not all - of his time to himself following the death of his mother. It was hard to determine why - mourning? Fright? Nerves? But whatever the reason, Father David took it upon himself to be the most open and warm foster father he could be to the orphan.

A few years later, when Isaac finally struck his teens, the Father found him alone in the church one night, sitting in the moonlight that flooded through the stained glass, covering his shy face with glimmers of silver light.

"Isaac, it's late," Father David scolded lightly. "What are you doing here?"

Isaac paid no mind to his foster parent. His mind seemed elsewhere, his eyes barely focused on the crucifix that hung high above the altar.

"Does God hate me?"

Being a lifelong man of the church, Father David was near-horrified at Isaac's remark, especially after having the child under his roof for so many years, and part of his flock for even longer. "No, Isaac, of course not!" The Father approached the window, kneeling by Isaac's side. "Why ever would you think that, son?"

Isaac shrugged. If he could avoid using words, he would every time.

"God loves all of his children, Isaac, and you are no different."

"Then why did Mom go crazy and die?"

The pastor bit his lip. Even to this day, he hadn't found the proper way to talk to Isaac when it came to Bethany's death. "The Lord works in mysterious ways, Isaac." It was the best answer he had.

Father David ran his fingers through Isaac's slowly-growing hair. Why Bethany shaved the boy's head so often, he'd never know, but the faintest signs of curly brunette were beginning to return to him. "I'm sure you're worried over nothing, Isaac. Why don't you come home and get into bed, and I'm sure you'll be better in the morning."

Isaac settled into his sweatshirt with a shrug. He always had a habit of curling up into his oversized clothes, but Father David just assumed it had something to do with whatever landed Isaac alone and naked in the basement. If buying clothes a size bigger made Isaac more comfortable, so be it. "I'll be up in a few minutes," he agreed quietly.

Their home was a small trailer behind the church, so Father David permitted Isaac a few more minutes to himself. "I'll leave the front light on for you," he nodded, getting up and walking out.

Isaac listened for the door creaking closed behind him. Why was it so difficult to ask Father David what he REALLY wanted to know? 'Father David, Mom was after me with a knife and said that God wanted me dead because I'm a sinner. Am I the anti-Christ?'

...Right. Because he sounded like a nutcase.

"I'm not a sinner," Isaac said to himself, watching the stained-glass patterns on the floor. It was a mantra he needed to hear almost every day. It was why he spent so much time in the church late at night, sitting in the light of the stained-glass windows. He hadn't done anything wrong, he just had a crazy mother who snapped and got what she deserved for pulling a knife on her son.

Define sinner.

Isaac jumped, more from the moonlight going dark than the hissing voice. With no stained-glass to admire on the floor, he got up and moved to the window, which had suddenly become several shades of black and red. "What do you mean?"

We both know you're not exactly Father David's little angel, Isaac. You know what happened that night.

Isaac turned from the window, covering his ears. "Nonono, I don't want to get into it!"

But he couldn't leave, and with a bit of spectral force, Isaac found himself spun towards the mirror-like window once more. Its darkened glass reflected Isaac's form, but his pale face and dark eyes were poisoned, appearing as a shadowy black monster with piercing red eyes in its reflection.

You can't ignore it, Isaac. Your mother may be dead, but YOU'RE still here. Living with the pastor doesn't make you a saint, Isaac, and it doesn't change what you did.

"What else was I supposed to do?"

You cursed God's name and tried to ruin his plans.

"Yeah, but he wanted to kill me!"

You slaughtered HUNDREDS of creatures through self-mutilation and black magic.

"I didn't want to get eaten!"

You traded pieces of your soul with the Devil to make yourself more powerful.

"I..." Isaac jumped to defend himself, but couldn't. THAT one, he couldn't deny. It was a moment of weakness. He needed help, and the Devil gave it to him. "...I know."

See? And now you're even lying to yourself about it. Fess up, Isaac, you're covered in more sin than your mother could even fathom.

"Yeah, but I'm done now!" Isaac assured, trying to escape the voice in the blackened window once more. "It's over, and I'm not going back! I'm never doing any of that stuff-"

Black shadows rose from the floor, stopping Isaac as they melded into an altar stand. Except instead of the Bible, this stand held a different book. One that was gray and had a black upside-down star on its cover. Oh, are you?

Isaac froze, his heart racing and his eyes wide. "No..."

What's the matter, Isaac? Don't remember your old friend?

He did everything in his power not to. It was his secret weapon against Mom. The devilish statue had dangled it in front of his face, promising that its dark secrets could save him from her divine wrath. It cost him a good bit of blood, but the power it brought him was unmatched.

Libiatrum Diabolus. The Book of Belial.

Isaac struggled to step away from the enclosing shadows, all of which pressured him closer and closer to the altar holding the dark tome. "No...No, I'm done with that book! I'm not picking it up again!"

But you're tempted, Isaac...And temptation is your ultimate weakness. You WANT this book, don't you?

"No, I don't! I just want it - and YOU - to leave me alone!"

Oh, but what about those bullies in school, Isaac? Aren't there so many people who live to make you miserable? Wouldn't you like to make them pay?

Isaac could feel the stinging on his cheek where he got socked by one of the older boys the other day. It had been that way most of his life, and wasn't getting better now that he was living with the town pastor. Isaac was quiet and calm, but only because he had no means of defending himself.

Fighting his mother gave him that first true taste of victory, of being BETTER than someone.

And by God, he missed it.

Before he realized what he had done, the book was back in his hands - right where it belonged. Its pages were still worn as ever, with the intricate black writing in a dark language he could barely understand. The familiar warmth of hellfire and cooling darkness filled the aisle, surrounding Isaac with the choking blackness that he grew to embrace in his basement.

Fear. Panic. Terror. Power. Triumph.

CREEEEEAAAK! The church shook as the door swung open once more, snapping Isaac back to reality. He had only moments to hide his book, and barely had the Satanic Bible hidden from view when Father David looked up.

"Isaac, are you coming?"

"Uh...Y-Yep, on my way!"

And Father David never seemed to notice the gray-covered addition to Isaac's personal library.

xxx

ADDENDUM: Looking back, I remember what triggered this conversation. This session took place on a Wednesday, and Isaac mentioned that he would be attending church services afterwards. His soured attitude caused my questioning of his faith.

He also had an unusually-large stack of books in his bag. I noticed a gray one peeking out from the pile, but only as he went to leave. I consider alerting Father David to Isaac's dabble in Satanism, but decide against it, at least until I have a better grasp of the situation.

I'll also need to keep a closer eye on the news, and look back to see if there have been any strange incidents concerning some of Isaac's enemies in the town.

This one's kind of my favorite chapter. Hope you guys liked reading it as much as I did writing it! Thanks for reading, guys! See you next time!

§ Tucker's Mayflower, signing off! §