THE CHAMBER TO SALVATION

THE CHAMBER TO SALVATION

It was a typical Saturday night at Lucky Lucy’s when I made my appearance. Along with the regulars, a swarm of students from Colgate University were soaking up the suds and filling the jukebox with quarters. You see, unlike most bars, George, the owner of Lucky Lucy’s, refused to load the jukebox with modern day musical crap. Instead, when you search through the playlist, you’ll find nothing but classic rock in his collection. As if proving my point, a familiar guitar rift blared out of the juke box as I sat down at the bar, then it was followed by Mick Jaggar singing Paint It Black.

As my mind fell into the rhythm of the music, the bartender poured me my usual drink. Satisfied with the beverage in front of me, I began to search for my night’s entertainment, but before I could even get a sip of my drink, a flash of light broke my concentration. Yes, the bar was crowded, but not enough to block the distinct flash of a camera I caught from the corner of my eye. Even through the haze of cigarette fumes and bobbing heads, there’s no way I could have missed it. I thought to myself, “Did someone just take a picture of me?” I looked around, hoping to find the culprit, but my efforts were in vain. Whatever, I thought. I took a sip of my drink and decided to turn my mind to a more important matter, which was the hot stud bent over the pool table. It has been a while since I slept with anyone for nearly forty-eight hours and if I wanted to break my dry spell, he seemed like the perfect way to do it. Downing my drink, I hopped off the barstool and began to meander towards the pool table, in hopes of catching his eye. But before I could even take two steps, the room began to spin. Reaching for the barstool, I attempted to steady myself, but before I could grab it, a pair of hands encircled my waist. Through a foggy haze in my mind, I heard a gentle voice whisper in my ear, “Easy, Vicky. It seems as if you had a little too much to drink.” As my mind began to disappear in a labyrinth of confusion, I heard myself ask, “How do you know my name?” Then, as if the song blaring out the jukebox was a prophetic sign, my world turned black.

I wasn’t sure how long I was out, but when I came to my senses, I had a wicked headache and realized something was terribly wrong. I knew I wasn’t in the back seat of someone’s car or in a motel room, for the unmistakable touch of cold metal caressed my skin on my back, and an overpowering odor of disinfectant invaded my sinuses. I found myself in an alien world, but what was even more frightening was I found myself trapped in a lifeless body. Why can’t I move, I thought? Am I trapped in a dream, where I’m being chased by a monster and finding it impossible to move? It was at that moment when my dream had turned into a reality nightmare. As the feeling of being watched crept into my mind, I tried to open my eyes.

When my eyes finally adjusted to the light, I was able to see where I was. Surprisingly, I found myself amidst strange, unfamiliar surroundings. The room was unusually clean, spotless to be exact. Stainless steel benches were affixed to the walls, and on those benches were plastic buckets and bottles filled with unknown substances. On the wall at the far end of the room was a small metallic door, with an even smaller window in the center of it. Again, I asked myself, where am I?

As if my thoughts were spoken aloud, a voice from a corner of the room answered, “I’m glad to see you’re awake, Vicky.”

When I tried to speak, I discovered my voice was raspy and was barely more than a whisper. So, with all my strength, I forced myself to repeat my unanswered question, “How do you know my name?”

A man stepped out of the shadows, and entered my field of vision. His was tall and thin, with dark hair and was probably in his mid-twenties. He had a slight tan and a well-trimmed beard. Dressed in blue jeans and a light blue t-shirt, he looked like any other man who could have passed me on the street. A true wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“Simple, my dear. I heard the bartender greeting you by name, and after I brought you here, I took the liberty of going through your pocketbook. Your name is Victoria Lightfoot, but I’m sure your friends address you as Vicky. I can call you Vicky, can’t I?” He continued without waiting for an answer. “Lightfoot, eh? American Native I presume. The good news is you should appreciate what I’m doing for you.”

My voice was still raspy, but I forced myself to speak. “Who are you, and why should I appreciate lying helpless on a stainless steel table?”

The man turned towards me and eerily smiled. “Excuse me for my rudeness, Vicky. My name is Arman, and the good news is, I brought you here to save your soul.” Arman continued, “Earlier this evening I slipped ketamine also known as Liquid X, a date rape drug into your drink. When you collapsed in my arms, I whisked you from the Bar of the Damned and brought you here to purge your soul of all the poison it has ingested during your lifetime. Of course, I had to make sure you wouldn’t something foolhardy like trying to escape from your salvation, so I injected you with atracurium, a paralytic drug doctors use for surgery to make sure their patients don’t move during an operation.” Arman laughed. “It just occurred to me. Considering I’m performing a certain type of operation, atracurium seems be a proper piece for this puzzle.”

Arman may have thought it was funny, but I was horrified. Knowing I was trapped within an inescapable cage, my mind began to race. “What is he going to do to me? Am I going to die?” But the most important question I asked myself was, “How am I going to get out of here?” With all my might, I tried to command my legs to move, but it was as if they were disconnected from my body. “How long does this drug last? If I wait long enough, I might be able to move again.” Somehow, I had to stall him for time. So, I began to ramble. “Clean my soul? What do you mean?”

Arman laughed again. “To tell the truth, you’re nothing but a slut. A drunken slut. I’ve been watching you for weeks now and I’ve lost count of how many drinks you’ve had and how many men you walked out of the bar with.” All humor vanished from his face. “Not only is your soul unclean, it is rotten to the core.”

“Who does he think he is, calling me rotten?” I asked myself. “What does that make you?” So, I spat out, “What’s it to you? Who appointed you, my keeper?”

Solemnly, and without pausing, Arman replied, “God.”

I was speechless. “He’s crazy”, I thought. But it didn’t matter. Whatever his mental state was, somehow, I had to gain more time. Another thought came to mind. “If this drug doesn’t wear off fast enough, maybe someone will come to my rescue or who knows what else could happen instead.” So, I unruffled my feathers and continued to engage him.

“Arman, if that’s you real name, where did you get these drugs? I don’t think there’s any way you picked them up from the local pharmacy.”

A glimmer of pride shown from Arman’s eyes. “To tell you the truth, I work as an IT Specialist at Hamilton Memorial Hospital. Now, you may ask yourself, how could an IT guy have access to exotic medication such as ketamine and atracurium? Well, you’d be surprised how simple it is. You see, I have access to all the labs and storage areas containing computer equipment and as for security? It’s nearly non-existent, once you get behind those closed doors. Oh, you’d be surprised with what marvelous drugs I have stored in my medicine cabinet.”

As those words rung through my ears, I noticed my toes began to tingle. “The drug is wearing off! Just a little more time and I might be able to escape.” Lost hope was being restored. I knew I needed to keep distracting him if I wanted any chance to escape. “So, tell me Arman, how are you planning to save my soul?”

Arman scoffed. “Me? I’m not going to do a thing. With the grace of God, you’re going to do that all by yourself.”

As time dragged on, hope flourished with it. Finally, I can wiggle my toes. “Just a little more time and a little luck, I might have a chance to escape.” So, I continued to stall. “Exactly, what do I have to do?” I asked.

Before Arman could answer, the chime of a timer blared out. “Oh my, Vicky. Where does the time go? Do you feel a tingling in your legs or in the tip of your fingers? The atracurium is probably starting to wear off by now, so it’s time for another shot. We wouldn’t want you to get any foolish ideas about escaping, now, would we?” He stretched his hand towards a workbench and picked up a syringe.

As it dawned on me on what he was about to do, I blurted out, “Please Arman, you don’t have to do this. I’ll do whatever you say. Anything. I promise!”

It was useless. Arman wouldn’t listen to my pleas, and I was powerless to stop him. He lifted my lifeless arm and administered a dose of atracurium. “I would like to believe you Vicky, but sorry, I don’t. You wouldn’t believe how many of the others have said the same thing, then tried to escape.”

Terror overwhelmed me when I discovered I wasn’t his first victim. How many victims were there before me, and even worse, how many will there be in the future? Why has no one discovered this monstrosity dwelling among us? As the sensation in my feet began to fade away, all my feelings of hope vanished with it. I needed more time, but I knew it was useless. Then, like a bolt of lightning, an idea roared into my mind. I may not be able to buy time, but maybe there’s another way I can convince him to set me free. What if I play along in his game? Though my voice became hoarse again, I called out. “Arman, if I want to save my soul, what do I have to do?”

Arman replied, “Simple. Confess all your sins to God, with all of your heart, and pray for forgiveness. If you do that, God will see the kindness of your act and have mercy on you. Only then will your soul be cleansed. Only then you’ll be freed.”

Am I grasping for straws or could it be that simple, I thought. If he hears me confess to God, will he let me go? There was only one way to find out.

The lies began to flow from my lips. “Oh, God, please listen to this wretched soul,” I began. “I have sinned, not only against you, but to all those who have touched my life. My drinking and sleeping around was only for my pleasure and nothing could be more distraught to you. I swear, from this day on, I will never taste alcohol, or sleep with another out of wedlock. Please Lord, through your merciful heart, please forgive me, a sinner.”

When I was finished, I felt my eyes tear up. Why was I crying? Did I really feel remorse for how I was living my life? Though my body remained motionless, I was trembling in my mind and soul as the weight of guilt was lifted off my shoulders. I turned my eyes toward Arman and whispered, “Do you think God heard me?”

Arman smiled. “It was a beautiful confession, Vicky. I’m sure God forgave you and answered your prayers.”

Though I was afraid of what the answer might be, I dared to ask, “Will you let me go now?”

“Yes, I will set you free, free from the body which corrupts your soul through sin. You are a creature of the earth and thus doomed to sin again. Now that your soul is clean, how can I let you stain it again? Can’t you see? Now is the time to separate your soul from your body and let it soar to eternal life in Heaven.”

Fear struck my heart when I heard those words. “No! You can’t,” I stuttered. “I’m too young to die! They’ll catch you if you kill me. Just let me go and I swear I’ll won’t tell anyone about this. Please!”

Aman slowly shook his head. “Oh Vicky, how kind it is of you to think about me, but you don’t have to worry about any of that. You can ask the others I’ve already sent on their way, when you ascend to Heaven. They’ll tell you what a wonderful thing I’ve done for them.” Arman pointed around the room. “Do you know where we are right now?” Arman continued, “We’re in a morgue, a crematorium to be exact. I work here part time as a janitor and have access to the building 24-7.” He pointed to the small door with the window. “That’s the cremation chamber. It’s there where your corrupt body will be purified by fire, and later I’ll scatter your ashes in the cemetery. The plan is quite simple, no body to discover, and no questions asked. Just another name at the bottom of an endless list of missing persons. So, like I said. You, as well as I, have nothing to worry about.”

Vicky began to whimper. “You can’t kill me. That’s a sin! Don’t you want to have a clear conscience when you face God as well? Please don’t do it. Don’t you see? God doesn’t want you to do this. I want to live. Please, please give me a second chance!”

Arman reached towards the bench and retrieved a second syringe. “You of all people could never know what God desires, but I do. You see, God talks to me, and I listen. God told me since the time of Adam, he wasn’t worried about the corporal body, but only the soul and I must do everything in my power to save those souls who may be damned to Hell. That is my mission in life, He said. To save those who would have been lost otherwise. When I was young, my mother used to call me Little Jesus. If only she knew how close she was, to knowing the truth.”

Listening to his psychobabble, I knew my efforts would be in vain. Still, I had to try. “Is it possible God doesn’t want you to work alone? Maybe He brought us together for a greater purpose. Maybe He wants us to join forces, and to save souls together.”

Arman pondered on Vicky’s words for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry that’s what you think.” he replied. “God told me you would say something like that. But don’t worry, Vicky. Once I inject you with this, you’ll fall asleep and won’t feel a thing. The next thing you’ll know, you’ll be in Heaven thanking me for what I’ve done. God knows I’m not killing you. Instead, I’m giving you a new life, a life filled with eternal happiness and joy. Now close your eyes and relax.” With that, he stuck the needle in her arm and pressed the plunger. He stood over her and silently prayed as he watched Vicky’s eyes flutter for a second and then closed for the last time. The time had come.

“There, there, Vicky,” he whispered. “Be at peace.” The conversation was over. Arman opened the door to the cremation chamber door and gently slid Vicky’s body in. Then, after closing the door, he threw the main switch. Gaseous fumes erupted into the chamber and were at once ignited. Immersed in flames, Vicky’s body was quickly consumed. When it was over, Arman took his phone out of his pocket and glanced at its photo album. At the top of the camera roll was a picture of Vicky sitting at the bar. He smiled and placed the phone back in his pocket. “It is finished, my Lord. I’ve delivered another unblemished soul to you.” Arman’s ears perked up and he looked towards the heavens. “What is it you say, Lord? I should go to Cazenovia, now?” Arman smiled. “Lord, you are so wise, in choosing that red headed man in that gay bar to be the next saved soul for your great salvation. As immoral as his actions are, I know you have the power to save him. Tomorrow morning, after I spread Vicky’s ashes in the cemetery, I’ll drive to Cazenovia and seek him out.”

As Arman thought about how easy it was to do God’s work in upstate New York, he smiled. “So many bars, and so little time, but that’s no problem. Patience is a virtue best practiced. Yes Lord, you have taught me to be very patient.” Arman removed Vicky’s ashes from the cremation chamber and placed them in a plastic trash bag. “Searching for lost sheep is my calling, for I am The Good Shepherd, and my Thy work shall be done.” Then, Arman switched off the lights, locked the door and disappeared into the darkness. God’s will be done.