Chapter Text
Virginia Whittman was a very devoted Christian, thank you very much. After all, she and her husband were convincing more and more people to join their congregation all throughout the US. Oh, her husband was the face, sure, but she was the one to convince him to put his face on TV for all to see. She wrote his scripts, she chose his suits, she was the one that put him on the top of their new hierarchy. Now, some may say it is unbecoming of a woman to try and pervert the natural dynamic of marriage to try and take the lead. And of course, she is but her husband’s humble servant and most loyal follower. Or at least, she didn’t mind acting the part if it meant she kept her status above everyone else.
Oh, how glorious it was, to watch as her husband would illuminate the room, abandoning himself to the lord, calling on his divine presence to discover intimate details about his audience’s personal life. Nothing could escape him, not their place of living, not their relatives and especially not the diseases that plagued their bodies. It was always so thrilling to see her husband channelling God, burning cancer from the sick or letting the wheelchair-bound walk again. There was no doubting her husband’s might, and no doubting their congregation’s power. His sermons where proof the spiritual could overcome the physical, and it was beautiful.
Of course, if anyone found out that the voice speaking to him was not God but Virginia herself, as she relayed to people's information from prayer cards through a small radio receiver in his ear, or if they checked back on those wheelchair bound after the show when the adrenaline rush he'd create with his charisma and showmanship wore off, they might have had some issues, but their congregations did not make use of nonbelievers, so she wasn’t too worried.
If anyone were to ask, for the healing to truly work one had to have unwavering faith. And if the tombs of their cemetery multiplied, and if the ages of their fallen brothers ranged from months to weeks, then so be it. As far as Virginia was concerned? Their soul had ascended to heaven, and there was no need for their parents to complain so much.
They at least got to have a child, even if for a little while. Virginia was not so lucky.
Over and over, they tried to conceive, and over and over she failed to carry their child to term. Her husband was compassionate and kind at first, holding her hand and crying with her as it happened the first three times, but soon grew resentful. He needed a child: a son to inherit his legacy; and she had failed him in that endeavour. She hoped her years of service were enough to be forgiven for her mistakes, she tried time and time again, hoping maybe this time, if they prayed hard enough, she could do it! Please, give her just one more chance –
She never got one.
The day after her seventh miscarriage her husband insisted she stayed home for his sermon. Apparently, a friend of his would be taking over her duties from now on. She didn’t understand, she was the one who came up with the televangelist idea in the first place! Why did he want to cut her off? But her husband gave her an order, and as his wife she had to obey…
As she sat in front of the TV, she watched her husband’s speech, and as she listened, a deep, dark dread began to pool into her heart. Her husband fidgeted with his hands and after performing his usual “miracles” he addressed the crowd gathered around him, and introduced the topic of the day’s sermon…
The importance of a wife’s dedication to her family.
Apparently, he had been struggling with his faith as of late. Apparently, God had reassured him that his place in His heart stayed true, but that his wife had not been praying hard enough, that her wicked soul prevented her from giving him an untainted heir. Thankfully, of course, he was able to find a new, purer soul, capable of giving him the son he so wished for.
The stupid, idiotic, vile little snake of a man thought he could just replace her with some little blonde whore? He’d be nothing without her! The ungrateful bastard! She’d show him! she’d –
She’d what?
There was nothing she could do. He was the face of their church; he was their pastor; she couldn’t do shit.
Her life was over now.
As she looked out the window and saw the cemetery out across the street from their home, she wondered if it had been worth it - But as she took out her husband’s pistol from its case and aimed it at her head, the light of the television illuminating her in their living room, she knew in her heart it hadn’t.
Hope the new wife is good at cleaning.
Click! --
----
Fuck.
Fucking useless asshole fucking forgot to charge the fucking pistol. Can’t even let me kill myself without his incompetence ruining everything. Jerk.
Oh well. Virginia was too much of a coward to try this again, but she clearly would not be welcomed anymore. She had to get out of there, and fast. She had alienated anyone who’d be willing to take her in, but what was she supposed to do? Let her soon-to-be-ex-husband come back home with his new Barbie in his arms so he can kick her out himself? No. If she was going to go, she would do it her way.
She packed her bags with a few clothes and some food, emptied the spare gas canisters onto the living room, lit up a blaze, and escaped into the night.
She had traveled from homeless shelter to homeless shelter for months now. Today, she found herself sitting on a sidewalk next to a few other bums, smoking a cigarette with some transvestite who just got out of a car ride with a blushing gentleman and a wad of cash in her hand.
Virginia wished she could still feel above all that, but times were tough and her dignity had never been lower.
Wouldn’t stop her from judging, though.
“You know, I don’t get it. You used to be a man, right? On top of the world! Allowed to be whatever you wanted, to do as you please, no wifely duties to be forced into… and you chose this? you gave all that up for a life of blowjobs in the back of a car? How could you be that stupid?”
The tranny rolled her eyes at Virginia, just another one in a set of millions whose patience she was quickly emptying. “It’s not as luxurious as you think it is. Oh yeah, I had money, I had safety, but I was still empty. The ‘happiness’ I had? it was just a kind of prison for me. at least now I know what I am, and at least now I’m honest with myself.”
Virginia cackled. “Pfft, honest about being a slut, yeah.”
“Oh, fuck you, bitch! if being a man sounds so great, why don’t you be one and see how it feels!”
Huh. That wasn’t too bad an idea.
If she managed to make a whole new identity, one better, stronger, smarter than before, that could be enough to start over, finally rise up in the system! She wouldn’t need to depend on the whims of another man to hold on to power ever again if she was the man in question. She could show them all.
“You said you got those plastic tits from a guy who can keep secrets, right? Doing the opposite couldn’t be too hard, think he’d be willing?”
The sissy looked dumbfounded at her. “Wait. You’re really considering this?”
“Yes. Yes, your mediocre banter was actually useful for once, you must be very proud. Now, name and address?”
“Uh. Dr. Lugash. Lives on the corner of seventh avenue. You sure you wanna do this?”
Virginia smiled. “More than I’ve ever been.”
Twenty years later, in an old bar in hell’s pride district, a sinner with a television for a head and twin scars on his chest was asked for his name by a formal-looking Radio Demon, and, after years of training, he did not hesitate.
“I’m Vincent, and you are?”
“Alastor! Pleasure to meet you Vincent, quite a pleasure!”