Work Text:
Statement of Maxwell Jacobs regarding his experience with a strange church. Statement taken 28/8/2026.
Statement begins.
Let's cut to the chase. I'm Max, and my sister is dead.
It's pretty much my fault. I don't want to get into details, that's not what we're here for. My sister is dead and it's because of me. Of course, I've felt so guilty for so long, but this isn't a therapy session. I'm not spilling my guts to you. You wouldn't want that, you're an academic. Just know that I was immeasurably sorry.
Anyways. I was out for a walk one day. I went for walks a lot. I could distract myself by looking at others going about their lives and wondering what sorts of misery they've endured. I was on one such walk when I spotted this strange little building.
It was obviously abandoned. It had no sign on it, so I couldn't tell what its original purpose was. There was a bit of light emanating from the otherwise dark building, but it only appeared in small, flickering spots of light.
Now, I'm not dumb. You should know this. I'm not some adrenaline junkie either. In fact, I would say I'm very good at staying out of dangerous situations. But, for some reason, I went inside.
It wasn't boarded up, and the door wasn't locked. Anyone could have just waltzed right in. That's what I did.
The inside made it apparent that it was at least used for food. There were some coolers in the front, the kind with the glass window so you could see what you were buying. They were full of wrapped meat.
Somehow, this was really disturbing to me. It looked fresh. There was no rancid smell in the air to indicate that it had gone bad. It was just… meat.
Each slab had a name on it. A name a human would have. I didn't look at them very closely.
Apart from that, there were lots of candles. And I mean a lot of them. They were practically everywhere. They must have been the lights I saw from the outside.
There was a door that looked like it led further into the building behind what I assumed to be a counter. Foolishly, I walked towards it. I guess at that point, my thought process was too late to go back now.
When I got closer, I could hear a voice. Someone was muttering something. Well, now I had to see whatever weirdo was talking to themself in the back of what I had decided was most likely an abandoned butcher's shop.
The door seemed to be jammed, so I had to brace my hand against the wall just to try to pull it open. The walls were a weird yellowish color, like rancid animal fat. There was something reddish-brown on the walls, but I didn't want to spend more than five seconds thinking about that.
Eventually, I was able to yank the door open, and the voice went silent.
The back was a bit nicer. It looked like someone tried to recreate a church on a budget, quite frankly. There were chairs instead of pews, and a row down the middle that led to an actually somewhat impressive pulpit. Again, there were more candles everywhere.
However, the church setup was not the only, nor most disturbing thing back there.
There were freezers pushed up against every wall. Above each freezer was a magnetic strip, with knives stuck to every one. A handful of massive hooks dangled from the ceiling- serious safety hazard, by the way- and they all had dead animals hanging on them. Some cows, a couple pigs, even a buck. Their hides had been jaggedly cut or torn open, and the fur around the gashes was crusted with old blood. I could see the muscle, and, well.
It was covered in eyes.
Every single wound.
Countless eyes, all watching me.
Judging me.
Knowing me.
I could barely keep myself from throwing up.
Anyways. Standing at the pulpit was an old man, maybe in his late fifties, early sixties. He had his hands clasped as though in prayer, but he was staring intently at me.
He had kind eyes behind his glasses, and his gray hair was neatly groomed. More pressing, though, was his attire. He was wearing a priest's robes, but I swear the sleeves were stained with something. He also had a necklace, but I couldn't see it very well from where I stood.
I was practically frozen in the doorway. This had all been a bit too much for me. As such, the old man made the first move. He walked slowly down the center row. Somehow, his movements reminded me of a wolf's. Not in the way that I felt like prey, more like he was sizing me up to see if I would be a fitting snack.
Humans are very edible, after all.
He clasped my hand, the one that didn't maintain its death grip on the doorknob, in both of his.
His face broke out into a grin. “Oh, hello! We don't have service today, but I'd love to spend some time with you personally. You are here to repent, yes?” I was so out of it, and he sounded so hopeful, that I just nodded.
I wish I hadn't.
He pulled me away from the door and over to one of the freezers. He was strong, for someone of his age.
“I've been waiting for you,” he continued. “I'm Emery Talbot, the priest of this humble little church.”
I opened my mouth to tell him my name, but before I could even get a word out, he cut me off.
“Yes, I know. You're Maxwell.” He opened the freezer he'd selected, seemingly at random, and the smell of meat hit me in the face. It was a little sweet, and carried the metallic tang of blood.
This brought many questions to my mind. How did Emery know my name? Why did he have more meat back here?
Would he make me eat it?
The self-proclaimed priest let go of my hand to reach in and pull out a little package wrapped in paper. It had a name and a date written on it.
I almost threw up again.
It was my sister's name, and the date she died.
I don't need to tell you about her. Just do a little searching, and I'm sure you can find something. This isn't about her death anyhow.
Emery held it out to me, still smiling. “She doesn't blame you. She wants to forgive you.”
I staggered backwards. “What- you- no she doesn't. She's dead and you're some- sick old man trying to monopolize on my grief! How do you even know this?!”
The man's smile fell. The joy and hope I could previously see in his eyes was replaced with... hurt, I think? Oddly enough.
"Well. Never mind that," he continued, less lively. "Eat, eat! Even if you don't believe me, I promise, she wants to forgive you."
"No!" I stepped back. "I'm not doing this."
Emery lunged forward and grabbed my wrists with one hand, still clutching my sister in the other. "I can't let you out of here. You haven't been absolved yet. Eat."
Needless to say, I resisted. There was a lot of yelling. And crying. And I might have actually thrown up for real.
But he wouldn't let me leave. And the worst part is that he was nice about it! He still had the nerve to act like he was doing good things!
Eventually, I had to cave. I just wanted to get away from him, really. I would've done pretty much anything at that point.
I don't really want to talk about literally eating what I know was my sister, but I guess I have to.
I cried when I ate her. Of course I did. But not just because it was LITERALLY CANNIBALISM. But also, because for some reason... it did feel like she forgave me. Obviously, she couldn't. She was dead, and this sick old man manipulated me into thinking it worked, but I felt better! I don't know why. I hate that part the most out of all of this.
After that, everything was kind of a daze. Emery congratulated me, told me a bit about his 'church', and led me out. I don't know how I got back home.
I could be next, you know? I could die and get eaten. I could 'forgive' someone. I'm not that different from every other piece of meat in that place.
But, yeah. That's pretty much it.
Bye.
Statement ends.