Download Chereads APP
Chereads App StoreGoogle Play
Chereads

South Park Kyle Renounces His Faith

The Server's Chronicle: A Fantasy Of Faith

Senior Server Felix stood at the front of the church, his voice steady and solemn as he greeted the congregation. “Our help is in the name of the Lord,” he intoned. “Who made Heaven and Earth,” the people responded in unison, their voices matching his reverent tone. “Today, we initiate new members into this divine and holy Order,” Felix continued. “Today, we welcome new brethren into the bosom of our Lord Jesus Christ.” At the back of the church, Louis sat on one of the few single chairs, his posture slightly slouched as his focus remained on a sheet of music in his hands. The title read, "Brightest and Best – Key of A-flat." 'Why didn’t Gramps give me an F or G? A-flat is so difficult, and I only have three days to finish it,' he grumbled silently, his brow furrowing in frustration. But he dared not voice his complaints. He could already imagine his grandfather assigning him even more difficult pieces—F-sharps and endless A-flats—as punishment. From the front of the church, a serene voice called out, “Harry! Step forward!” Louis glanced up, momentarily pulled from his inner musings. His eyes landed on a girl stepping forward from the pews. She had black hair neatly styled in a bun and striking green eyes that seemed to shine with warmth and composure. Dressed in a modest brown dress and black sandals, with a rosary resting gracefully around her neck, she exuded a calm, dignified presence. Her tanned skin and graceful demeanor only added to the aura of reverence surrounding her, befitting an Altar server. 'Sigh,' Louis thought as he brushed a hand through his white hair, his blue eyes softening with a mix of admiration and envy. 'I wonder what it’s like to be an Altar server. They all seem so pure and divine… and powerful.' Just as he returned his attention to his music, a calm, gentlemanly voice spoke beside him. “You could also be an Altar server, if you’re interested.” “Huh?” Louis blurted out, snapping his head to the side. But no one was there. “What in the name of Jesus is going on here?” he muttered, glancing nervously around. “At least you know my name,” the voice replied again, seemingly amused. “What?” Louis whispered, his heart beginning to race. "I'm certain you will be a good server," the voice said, calm yet enigmatic. Louis narrowed his eyes, still searching for its source. "Who are you?" "I have many personalities. I have many names," the voice replied with an air of mystery. "It’s your choice which one you accept." "You’re not making any sense," Louis muttered, growing more unsettled. "Blessed are those who have not seen but believed…" Before Louis could respond, his vision blurred, and the world around him seemed to melt away. He jolted awake, gasping for air. His hands clutched the crumpled sheet of music, its corners bent from his restless grip. His head teetered precariously over the edge of his bed, a faint ache in his neck reminding him of the awkward position he’d been in. "Holy Mother of Jesus!" he exclaimed as he lost his balance, tumbling off the bed in a heap of blankets and scattered papers.
JuniKelv_ · 13K Views

His Charisma

Kiefer knew when he had contracted the Weave. He would suffer incessant nosebleed, raging headaches, auditory and visual hallucinations and occasionally lose consciousness. Those were the major symptoms of the Weave. These symptoms would continue for what seemed like forever. Scraping away at his increasingly fragile mind, rendering every night more fearful than the last. -•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•- When the clock would strike midnight, his sheets could usually be found slick with sweat, sticking to his body and getting even more soaked. Kiefer would try to move his limbs but they never really responded. His eyelids were shut tightly as he couldn't even open them. He would struggle and struggle one too many times to open them but they weren't exceptions in whatever was happening to him. But his ears? His ears picked up every single sound that surrounded him. Sometimes, Kiefer would hear one too many voices speaking at the exact same time, that they began translating into bundles and bundles of gibberish. His head ached terribly and he could do absolutely nothing about it. Trauma. While his eyes were shut, visions of vile and rabid monsters would charge at him from caves and clearings he could never quite make out. Their eyes, bloodshot, their teeth more like fangs dripping with crimson red blood, trying so desperately to rip the poor boy apart. Trauma. Kiefer would now and then try his hardest to wake himself up from the turbulent nightmare but it really did seem like the Weave hadn't had enough fun with him. -•-•-•- Kiefer would occasionally find himself tethering on the edge of the narrowest piece of boulder on what seemed to be a cliff. Looking down, his eyes would widen and his face would contort with fear as molten magma thrashed turbulently just few inches below his feet, burning and scalding his feet repeatedly. Then, all too suddenly, the cliff would melt and Kiefer would find himself falling back-first, his hands fluttering in the air, trying to grab onto whatever came into his grip to save himself. A guttural scream would escape his lips and echo off the far walls as he plunged deep into the boiling magma. -•-•-•- He wakes up with a start every new day, his forehead slick with sweat, his nightwear damp and his hair even damper. Soon, Kiefer didn't need a diviner to tell him the Weave was out for his heart. SUPPORT THIS NOVEL TO KEEP US MOTIVATED!!! FOLLOW INSTA ACCOUNT @guordio_masetti
guordio_masetti · 9.8K Views

Euphoric Faith

In the world of Euphoria, sword, magic and faith had dominated lives for centuries, ever since the catastrophic period commonly referred as The Joining nearly destroyed the world. Those born with magical abilities, strive to become a Magus and are highly sought after. Those talented in warfare, became Sword Masters and are the backbone of many kingdoms. Those touched by diety had elevated their own position immediately, since miracles and spells utilising faith are always in short supply. Every since The Joining, many monsters have crossed the boundaries of Euphoria. Whole knightly orders and wizard towers dedicated their lives in an attempt to eradicate monstrosities roaming this world. The question that many asked themselves was: What would happen if there was a group capable of using magic, even if at basic level, skilled in combat and had a patronage of a god? Many objected, seeing a future where their own position of power would be threatened and refused this offer. Although there were few pure and honest mages and knights. They gathered in secrecy, hiring trusted alchemists in an attempt to transmute a body, to create a blueprint perfect for their purpose. They prayed to various gods, old and new arrivals but there was only one Goddess that responded. Alchemists we're often dubbed by commoners and those of faith as witches. So they took it upon themselves to name their new creation, using the very same foul moniker to spite those that wronged them... (Warning this is an 18+ novel. There are heavy, adult themes in it. Enter at your own discretion).
Retrion · 5.7K Views
Related Topics
More