• The darkness hung thick like a curtain around the church, broken only by a small light carried by a lonely janitor. He whistled a tuneless song as he went about his work, the sound reassuring him that he had done this task many times. He went along, scraping gum off the pews and polishing the alter.

    He looked up at the large wooden figure of Jesus, looming over the alter, forever nailed to the cross. "I don't know why," he said, his voice echoing, "Why they picture you like that. Why etch one's last moments in wood for all to see? Wouldn't they want to know you as you were alive?" He shook his head, "Just don't get it."

    "Why is this mockery of God here?" shouted a booming voice, making the janitor jump, "I am the true Messiah!"

    The janitor thought he was losing his mind. Was he hearing God's voice? He fell to his knees, muttering a prayer, as sounds of footsteps echoed around him.

    He felt a drop of liquid fall on his head and trickle down his forehead and nose. It dripped on the stone floor, and by the light of the candle, he could see it was blood. Horrified, he instinctively looked up, shining the flashlight.

    Bile rose in his throat as he stared into the eyes of a corpse, nailed to the ceiling of the church in a morbid copy of the Jesus statue. The nails had been pierced through his hands, so the flesh slowly tore.

    "Help me," the man whispered, his face contorted in pain.

    "Mary, mother of God," the janitor muttered in shock. The man was still alive!

    "Help me," the man croaked again. His hands tore, and his torso fell downward, yanking his feet free from the nails. With a sickening scream, he fell. With a loud crunch he broke upon the stone floor, inches away from the janitor.

    The janitor stared, wide-eyed at the corpse, then vomited, the sounds echoing over and over.

    He stood weakly, unsure of what to do. He staggered backward, tripping over the flashlight. He spun around to right himself, but fell into a man standing at the alter. There was a sharp pain in the janitor's stomach. A knife.

    "So sorry you had to see this mess," said the man, "I was sure the nails would hold for longer."

    The janitor fell to the ground, gasping and struggling to pull the knife free. The man just laughed and walked away as the janitor's life ebbed away.