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New Manifoldland officially had a place of worship.
Jack wasn’t sure if building a full on church would be bad, if it was called The Church of Prime for a reason. So, he stole some wood from the prime path outside of Tommy’s house (there had to be some sort of connection between the path and the church) and build an altar. It was small, didn’t have anything more than a bowl with some holy water, candles, and a small bell, but it was something.
When Jack prayed he just tried to ask for forgiveness, make up for past mistakes, but tonight was different, tonight he had remembered.
Jack had managed to sleep well the past few weeks despite the fact that a lunatic had been unleashed on the server, and he was sleeping okay, until the dream started;
He was sitting on the docks outside of L’Manburg, it was a beautiful day out, the sun was out and he was reveling in the warmth on his face. He could hear laughter and smell something being cooked in Niki’s bakery, then he heard footsteps coming up behind him. Jack looked up to see a hand outstretched to help him up, he took it then came face to face with L’Manburgs second president; Schlatt.
“Jack,” he greeted with a smile. “How have you been?”
“What are you doing here?” Jack asked.
“What, am I not allowed to catch up with my good friend Jack?”
“We aren’t friends, Schlatt.” Jack tried to pull his hand away but his limbs had turned to lead, he was frozen to the docks.
“Of course we are Jack, don’t you remember all the quality time we spent downstairs? You, me, and Wilbur we can’t forget about him!”
Jack shook his head, “Leave me alone, I don’t want anything to do with you.”
Schlatt’s smile dropped, “Let’s take a walk.”
And then Jack was falling into the ocean below. Water turned into lava and every nerve in Jack’s body was on fire. His skin burned away, molten rock seeped into his lungs, and when Jack reached the surface there they were; the great presidents of L’Manburg Wilbur and Schlatt.
“Pull yourself up, Jack,” Wilbur said. “You can do it.”
“Look at this guy,” cried Schlatt. “He couldn’t do it if he tried, he’s weaker than that useless V.P of mine.”
Jack grasped at the edge of the lava pool but all he found was sand, and when he sank back down he heard laughter and smelt cigarette smoke. He tried to scream but just swallowed fire.
That was when the dream ended, when Jack stumbled outside and panicked as soon as he felt the desert sand under his bare feet. That was when he grabbed his box of matches and rushed to his alter.
He washed his hands in the water, intact hands cleaning off the grime and dust that he had picked up. Jack struck a match against the side of the box, cut the silence of the night with the sound of the match hissing as it came to life. He lit the candles, rang the bell, then fell to his knees in prayer.
“Prime,” he cried to the empty desert sky, “if you’re able to hear me out here, please-“ his voice broke. “Please, don’t send me back, I’ll become a saint, I’ll be a martyr, anything just don’t put me back there.”
It was cold at night, when the sun went down. A chill that went straight to his bones settled over Jack and all he could do was be thankful that it wasn’t the heat he had felt in his dream.
“I don’t know if this alter means anything to you,” he whispered. “If you still listen to me, if you haven’t grown sick of me. I- I hope that you’re real, I think what happened back at the church proved that, but to be honest I don’t know if I still want to pray to you if you’re who constructed whatever that was.” He shook his head, taking deep breaths of the night air. “I’m a bad person but do I deserve that? Do I deserve to be trapped there forever- to be tapped with them forever?”
It was quiet until…
An arrow whooshed past Jacks ear, burying itself in the sand. Jack turned around and faced a group of mobs that had gathered from across the desert. Shit. Jack didn’t bring anything with him when he ran out, well aside from the matches. The skeletons bones creaked as it drew back the bowstring and aimed another arrow at Jack. There wasn’t anything he could do, he would have to run past then to get back to his house. Jack braced for impact, closed his eyes and leaned against the alter, waiting for the inevitable and to wake up back in bed.
It didn’t happen.
He opened his eyes to the sunrise and warmth on his face, although he didn’t smell any burning flesh. Around him were piles of ash, they never reached him or the alter. A wind blew, scattering them among the sands and blowing out the alters candles.
Jack rose to his feet, washed the sand off his hands and steadied them on the wood of the alter.
“Thank you,” he whispered to the empty desert.
It responded with a heat that bore down on him like a guiding hand on his shoulder instead of one that smothered him and created mirages of happier days that he couldn’t get back to no matter how hard he tried.