Purgatory Games, Part Two

iii.

Very few people knew that the Church was the only incorporated religious organization in the world. Every church was actually a corporation, as in, ‘St. Mark the Martyr, Incorporated.’ With elections suspended because of the state of emergency caused by the wars, a religious zealot had sat in the White House for the last ten years. 

During that time, prisons had become the private property of the Church. Through their corporate arm, the Church had bought up and privatized every prison in the country. Reforming wayward souls was a very profitable business. 

They worked closely with Homeland Security to make sure there were enough televised whippings bringing men back to God to feed the masses all the electronic heroin they needed. The prisoner gladiator games was the most brutal reality television ever produced. And it was the biggest seller with the highest ratings in history.

Father Matthew stood at the window of his office. The stone chamber was small and narrow, with a high ceiling. A small window let in a thick bar of yellow sunlight. He was waiting for JT. Before the Monastic Reform Law, Father Confessor Matthew would have been called Warden Matthew. 

JT was Purgatory’s biggest money maker. He fought like an animal, the public loved him and most important, JT’s finely honed fighting skills lined Matthew’s deep pockets with gold. But as lucrative as the games were, the black market was the real money maker in a country at war where supplies ran scarce. 

Until two months ago, JT had been uncontrollable. Jimmy, the last boy Matthew put in JT’s cell had been a miserable failure. Kyle was another story. His considerable spy network told him that JT was head over heels for Kyle. 

Matthew knew all about the dark game between JT and Tyrone. A duel between two men over a boy wasn’t unusual. The strange thing about the game was the way it ended. From everything Matthew had been told, JT barely stopped himself from killing Tyrone. Excellent. JT’s days of running wild and ignoring Matthew’s offers of better things were over.

History tells us that many men refused to sell their souls to the devil. The most famous man who refused died on a cross for his mistake. JT was about to learn that every man’s soul had a price. Fortunately for JT, Matthew, Father Confessor of Purgatory Prison, was an excellent teacher in matters of the soul.

Matthew heard the door open behind him. 

“Undo his cuffs,” Matthew said without turning around.

“But Sir, I’m not supposed to - ”

“Mr. Remello?” Matthew said in a low voice.

“Sir?”

Matthew turned from the window and looked the guard in the eye. “Why do you insist on speaking when you have nothing to say? Undo his cuffs. Now.”

The guard uncuffed JT, being rougher than he had to be.

Matthew waved lazily. “That’s all Mr. Remello. In the unlikely event that I think of something useful for you to do, I’ll call for you.”

Preston Remello flushed bright red. He wasn’t used to men talking to him like that. 

He stalked out of the room.

Matthew looked at JT across his small desk. Even though JT stood three or four inches taller and Matthew knew the gladiator could pick him up and throw him across the room without breaking a sweat, he smiled into JT’s hard eyes.

Matthew took a red apple from a basket of fresh fruit on his desk. In an age where every migrant worker was overseas fighting America’s wars, fresh fruit had become as impossible to find as diamonds lying in a field and nearly as expensive.

“I hear you’re enjoying your new bitch,” Matthew said.

JT said nothing. Even though JT didn’t know it, the gladiator’s silence had always infuriated Matthew. But those sad days were over.

“Temptation has always been the downfall of mankind,” Matthew said, holding up the red apple to the light streaming through the small window.

“You know the story of Adam and Eve?” Matthew said, looking up at JT.

“I heard it before,” JT said shortly. 

Matthew was unbothered by the hard look in JT’s eyes. 

“God was generous to Adam and Eve. He gave them everything,” Matthew said. “Except one tree. If they hadn’t fucked it up and taken a bite of that apple, we’d all be in Paradise right now.”

JT looked at Matthew the way a man looks at a poisonous snake that’s too close for comfort.

“Care for an apple, JT?”

JT shook his head. “I ain’t hungry.”

“Of course not,” Matthew said, setting the apple on his desk. “But some fruit is just too good to resist, isn’t it?”

Matthew turned back to the window. His office was in the east tower, overlooking the yard where the gladiators trained. Men were down there now, sweating in the early morning sun.

“Is Kyle a good boy?” Matthew said, looking out the window.

“He’s a good bitch,” JT said, staring at Matthew’s back.

“You know why Eve took the apple from the serpent?” Matthew said without turning around.

“No,” JT said, looking around at the ancient cinderblock walls. He crossed his thick arms over his wide chest. “Why?”

“Pride,” Matthew said. “She thought she knew better than God.”

“You want something from me Mr. Matthew?” JT said.

Matthew whirled from the window. “It’s Father,” he said in a low, dangerous voice.

“Right,” JT said, making no attempt to hide the mockery in his eyes. “I forgot. You’re a real religious man.”

“That’s right, JT. I’m a man of the cloth,” Matthew said, recovering his composure. He smoothed his black frock coat, pushed back the wisp of hair that had fallen across his face.

Matthew’s voice went back to the smooth tones of a benign teacher. “In many ways Purgatory is my Garden of Eden. I decide who’s rewarded for virtue and who will be punished for their sins.”

“What sins?” JT said. “Ain’t we all sinned in here? That’s why we’re here right?”

JT looked around the small room. His eagerness to be far from the strange look in Matthew’s cold eyes was written all over his dark face.

“Tyrone’s been slipping in the games lately. I thought a little reward would inspire him to try harder. But when you won the Statewide Championship, I decided that you deserved a hot little virgin bitch,” Matthew said. “So when Kyle was assigned to us for redemption, I gave him to you.” 

Matthew sat in the high backed leather chair behind his desk, looking up at JT. He picked up the apple and took a bite.

“I’ve given you a delicious fruit, JT,” Matthew said. “When the time comes, I’ll ask for something in return for what I’ve given you. Do we understand each other?”

JT nodded, feeling like a man caught up in the middle of a whirlwind. He hated this man. He would have gladly served another life sentence for the sheer pleasure of killing Matthew.

“Good, excellent,” Matthew said, breaking into a smile that had all the warmth of a grinning skull. Matthew raised his voice and called for Remello.