Orgy of Souls

Afterword

Samuel had to die. There was just no other way to end it. See, I don’t believe in God, but Maurice does, very much so. That could have turned this into one long theological debate between an atheist and a faithful Christian rehashing the Evidential Argument from Evil. Why does an all-powerful omni-benevolent deity allow terrible things to happen to people? Why does it seem that good befalls the bad and bad befalls the good? Be thankful that we didn’t take it there. It would have made the book three times as long and could have gotten ugly. Besides, that’s what non-fiction is for. Maybe one day.

Our purpose here was to set up the premises of the argument for you: a pious and devout priest dying of AIDS, a vain hedonistic sinner living a life of fame and prosperity. What we could not do is answer the question for you because our answers would have been different. Very, very different.

I would have said that it is because God is an illusion at best and indifferent or even hostile to man at worst. Maurice would have said that it is because God is testing us or because you can’t have good without evil or because man brought all of the world’s evil onto himself by abusing his freewill. Or, we could do the honorable thing and admit that neither of us know anything about these big cosmological questions with anything approaching absolute certainty and put it all back on you to figure out while entertaining you a little in the process. So, we tried to present both perspectives but allow you to ultimately answer the question for yourself.

That’s why Samuel had to die and Samson had to live. Because if Samson died it would have seemed like a judgment on his sinful lifestyle. If God had come down from heaven and saved them both then Maurice would have jumped up and yelled, “Aha! So you do believe!” This way, the status quo remains and the question still lingers: Why does God allow terrible things to happen to good people and why does it seem like some of the worst people have the best luck?

Why did Samuel sacrifice himself for his murderous brother? Because he loved him and he was the good one and that’s what good people do. That’s what a good Christian would do. I like to think that that’s what Maurice would have done. He would have had faith that his sacrifice would not be in vain and it would give his brother another chance to redeem himself. Will Samson turn his life around? Who knows? I did. But then, I’m not quite as good-looking as Samson and not nearly so conflicted.

It all sounds so civilized doesn’t it? Surely there must have been bloody feuds during the writing of this? Surely Maurice must have shouted, “Damned heathenous infidel!” after reading my description of a woman being hacked in half with a samurai sword? Surely he must have at least written me back and asked me to tone that shit down a little? After all, some of the members of his church will probably read this; the same ones who already look at him sideways for writing horror in the first place. Certainly, he must have arm-wrestled with me over putting some of my own atheistic ideas into the story? Surely I must have battled with him over keeping his religious dogma out of it? What you just read could not have come out as smoothly as it now appears. Well, actually, it did.

See, the only way we could have written together in the first place is if we both had respect for one another. If I was going to use this as an opportunity to challenge Maurice over his beliefs or if Maurice was going to use this as an opportunity to save the non-believer then it wouldn’t have worked. So, if you were hoping for an ideological cage match between The Sinister Minister and Wrath then I do apologize. Maybe next time. This wasn’t about that. This was about telling a good story.

Oh, I’m sure Pastor Broaddus had a few moments of hesitation after reading one of my more graphic sex scenes. One of them did not make the cut I might add but I’ll blame that on the editor. And yeah, I must admit that I had to resist the urge to screw with the priest and make him a child molester or a frequent patron of street prostitutes or something, or to make him call out in vain for God to come save him and then renounce his faith when his prayer went unanswered. But that would have been inauthentic. What kept us in check was both our mutual respect for one another and the story. The story was ultimately more important than our own agendas. The story demanded honesty. And that’s why Samuel had to die; for the story. I hope you enjoyed it.

—Wrath James White