Elle,

I was getting used to it, Elle.

First days passed without incident. Then weeks. Every Sunday he’d be there in the pews, watching me like I don’t know who he really is. And then he’d return to his lair and I’d have the rest of my week. I study the scripture. I advise the townsfolk. I play with my children. There would be only one black spot on the blessed Sunday, and then I could continue to live my life in God-fearing peace. At least, as close to peace as I get.

I suppose I got used to it. Living this way. Knowing what you did, what you believe. Knowing what I did to you. In the name of God, I have been forgiven. I’ve seen the difference between the soldiers I blessed in the war and the soldiers I didn’t; I know that I am forgiven. But the Divine can feel cold at this distance; I doubt you would argue against me on that. I would rather I had not done it. I would rather you had not forced my hand. I would rather you forgive me, even with your hands covered in ancient blood, you utter sadist. Even now, it feels like I killed my own mother rather than a dangerous…whatever you are. Cory and Deut still reminisce about you in their letters; I haven’t had the heart to tell them why they can’t find your body, why there’s no gravestone for them to mourn at.

But that is then and this is now. Today is the first time he’s missed church since he got here; I can no longer take refuge in the routine of his unwanted presence. That alone would be enough to choke me with my own anxiety. But now the strongman from that wretched circus has come skulking to my doorstep begging for ‘forgiveness’, claiming that he saw a vision that showed him the error of his ways…though he cannot recall what those errors were. I know this is his doing, even if I cannot imagine how. And now I am stuck with this shaggy madman. If I suggest returning him to the circus or even taking him to the Mayor, he grows upset and violent. The last man I saw this broken had his torso twisted into a knot at Cheat Mountain, his mind snapped like a twig as surely as Lee snapped his spine.

What did your boy show him? What horrible truth ruined his mind? Whatever it is, I aim to put my degree to good use and guide him through this. My faith is not the cudgel you think it is; it is a balm for the lost when wielded correctly. I will show him the scripture. I will ease his worries. I will remind him that he is Loved. And when he is ready, I will show him how a man of faith takes revenge.

It’s not thirty years ago anymore. I am a respected master of theology and an experienced church leader; you are dead and exiled. Now that you’ve shown your hand, do not expect me to hold back.