They reached out for him, to just touch the man they had heard so much about. The stories that this man was a healer, a prophet, a man of God. These crowds grew and grew, and as with every large crowd, comes the bad seed. The one who isn’t there to see the face of the Holy Man, but to kill him.
For hundreds of years, the Pope would travel the world to greet parishioners and Catholics all over. To hear their prayers and to deliver them from the evils of the world.
Such promise these men would have. Such a supposed positive influence on the world, you’d think just about anybody would be honoured to see such a man. To believe so firmly that this man was God’s representative on Earth, that to attack him would be like attacking God himself.
Men would look on in horror as those shots would ring out, a man trying to kill God’s Holy servant here on Earth. A near tragedy that would alter the lives of so many, and shock the world.
A man of a different religion, who was already a known killer, gets close to the Pope and delivers 4 shots, all wounding him.
Mehmet was his name, a man who looked at the face of God’s servant and tried to kill him.
The plan was in place as he looked on from the crowd of people who were there to bask in the glory of the Bishop of Rome. To be near such a holy man as Pope John Paul II, that not one thought that a wolf hid among the sheep. A wolf determined to end the Shepherd where he stood for crimes he never committed.
When it was all done, the sheep tackled the wolf and saw him face justice for what he had done. This man failed and whether it was divine intervention to protect his servant of the eagerness of the sheep to protect their leader, the man lived.
I’m your Mehmet, Viper. But unlike him, I won’t fail.
I see your sheep, your snakes. Men and women who look at you for guidance, for protection. People wholly dedicated to you, blindly following you like Catholics and the Pope.
But I see you. You’re not some God or some chosen servant. You don’t deliver good news. You’re not an influence of positivity on this world. But like the Pope, you’re followed and worshipped. Seen as a hero to a certain group of people that to the outside world looks like insanity.
And I am not someone like Mehmet. I won’t miss my shot at you, and you won’t survive to continue your corruption of innocent lives.
No, when you walk down to that ring, the last thing you’ll hear in this world won’t be the sounds of screams and anger, or four missed shots from a would-be assassin.
You’ll hear the ringing of the bells, and the weeping of dead snakes.
Carpe Noctem, Viper Roberts.