My story k k

Stella’s Creative Barf

1.

	I’m not really much of a fighter. No one has ever looked at me and said, “man, you’d make a great fighter”. Because of that, I sort of wonder what I’m doing here, looking into the face of a giant beast with a sword too big for my arms, practically begging for my demise. It’s not exactly what I wake up in the mornings looming forward to.
	Well, neither was the death of my parents, but life’s a bitch.
	It started a week ago-no, scratch that- several years ago. Four or five at the most. That’s when she took over. She calls herself Sheru. Everyone else calls her a conceited brat. At first, we worshipped her. I was nine at the time. She gave us food and water and happiness, all in exchange for our unflagging commitment to her cause to purge the Earth of the unclean.
	One child, the youngest of each family, was to be turned into Sheru, to be trained into her army. She calls us her Priests. We go out, preaching the words of Sheru, and we kill anyone who won’t listen. Pretty simple. We have guidelines for this lifestyle, rules for the chaos brought to us by our initially well-to-do emancipator. None of them make enough sense, and so we are taught the battle cry, and then the pledge.
	It’s a little funny how she calls it a battle cry, when she preaches against fighting. The battle cry, our mantra if you wish, is “Purge the world of the unclean, and may the eternal glory of Sheru smile upon you and your land”. A little silly, isn’t it? Doesn’t really roll off the tongue, but hell, it gets the point across, and that’s what counts. Next is the pledge. It’s a little lengthier, but just as blunt as the battle cry.
	“In the darkness of our path, in the flawed ways of our predecessors, Sheru rose to save us and our kind. All must bow to her competence and hope that some day, we may perpetuate the tradition of her infinite power. We the Priests take this pledge and carry it with us, our burden to bear in a changing world. Hail to Sheru!”
	So I suppose there has been worse.
	But I haven’t gotten to the good part. Two years into her revolution, some people saw her corruption.