The Fall and Rise of Peter -- Another Story About the End Times (Part I)
Peter and Jez were in Peter’s room when the good Christians of the world were Raptured up to Heaven. Before hearing the crashes of cars in the distance, before hearing the screams of the distraught looking for loved ones, before discovering that his own parents had simply vanished from the face of the earth, it had been the most wonderful day in Peter’s short life.
They had been sitting on his bed, listening to some rock and roll music Jez always liked to make him listen to. And then she put her hand on his leg and kissed him on the cheek. Before that moment, they had never done anything more than hold hands, for Peter knew God disfavored any type of sexual activity before marriage. Even holding hands kept him up at night sometimes. But that kiss… It felt so perfect. And he knew they would get married eventually. Besides, it wasn’t like they were going to have sex. God couldn’t be that mad…
Peter and Jez had met in Church. She was different than the other girls: the clothes she wore were a little smaller and tighter, and she wore makeup. She was beautiful. And that was not all: sometimes, at Bible study, she would argue with the teacher and other students, explaining that the Bible could not possibly be right about this or that. Peter never agreed with her, but her voice…. it was beautiful.
He had wanted to ask her out on a date since they were fifteen. But he was always too scared. Peter was different than most people, including his fellow Christian soldiers at Church. He was an especially good Christian, believing the teachings of the Bible with his entire heart. Nothing and nobody could convince him that a single word in the great book was incorrect. Teachers and television attempted to sway him toward a path of evil secularism, that God did not create the world in six days or that women were not created from Adam’s rib or that humans evolved from monkeys. And he was the perfect child, never arguing or raising his voice at his parents – at least not since he was first sent to the whipping room when he was seven.
So the idea of dating Jez, the most perfect and beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on scared him. The temptation he would certainly be confronted with haunted his dreams. What if she wanted to hold hands? What if she wanted to kiss? God would be watching, judging, waiting to condemn them both to an eternity of hellfire. God would see anything and everything improper they did; He would know all their impure thoughts. And that made Peter nervous, so nervous, in fact, that whenever Jez would talk to him, he could do little more than stutter.
But then Jez asked him out. They’d gone out on a few dates and had the most wonderful time. On their second date, he gazed into her eyes, took in her perfumed scent and became mesmerized, forgetting his righteous inspired fears to the point where the courage to grab her hand overcame him. So they held hands. And later they shared an awkward kiss. And now here they were, sitting on his bed, doing what the kids call “making out.”
Peter only wanted to kiss her. But within seconds what started as a soft kiss became more and more passionate; and although he started to feel strange, as though someone, someone very powerful – God perhaps – were pulling him away from this sin, he just couldn’t help himself. And then Jez grabbed his hand and put it between her legs, and he could feel a soft wetness on her underwear that scared him. But rather than do the righteous thing, the thing that God certainly wanted Peter to do – pull away from the girl (who was a certainly a whore, Peter now knew somewhere in the recesses of his mind) and slap her for her disregard of the teachings of the Bible – he instead removed his hand and slid it up her shirt until he was touching the soft warmth of breast. And being inexperienced, he wasn’t quite sure what to do, so he took her breasts in both hands and squeezed them; and becoming bored with that, he gently – or so he thought – twisted her nipples like radio knobs until he heard a faint moan.
It was at that moment that millions of people suddenly vanished, Raptured up to heaven, leaving the rest of the world behind. And just as Peter removed his hands from Jez’s breasts, ready to go further, ready to do whatever she wanted him to do, explosions and crashes could be heard all around them, some as close as down the street and some miles off in the distance. With these sudden and horrible sounds of the world’s infrastructure coming to screeching halt, it was as though Peter awoke from a dream; and he pulled away from Jez, looking down at the disheveled mess of a whore, ashamed and frightened and ran down the stairs and out on to the street. But before he even took his first step, he knew what had happened. He knew he’d missed the Rapture, and he knew why (although he wasn’t sure if it was the holding of hands, the kiss, or exploration of her breasts).
What have I done? Peter thought to himself. Out on the street he could see a few cars crashed into other cars and into trees; and in the distance he could see thick plumes of smoke rising up high into the air, while sirens began to blare and cries and shouts could be heard in the houses around him. And Peter dropped to his knees and sobbed.
He could hear Jez’s footsteps as she approached, and suddenly he was angry. At her – at himself, too – but especially her, and rage crawled through his body like an intestinal parasite. Just like Adam in the Bible, he was fooled by a woman’s trickery, and now he’d missed his chance to be Raptured up. His only chance for Heaven was to redeem himself in the eyes of God. But time was not on his side, for Peter knew the tribulation period had begun and he could be killed at any moment. So he did what he knew God would want him to do, what God, he knew, was now whispering in his head for him to do : he hit Jez. First he whirled around and punched her in the stomach, and as she fell backward, he leapt to his feet and stood over her fallen body. Her face was twisted in surprise, but as he knelt to straddle her, a slight smile crosser her lips. And then he slapped her seven times. Not too hard, not so hard that it could have really hurt her, but hard enough to teach her a lesson. When he was finished, all Jez could say was: “I needed that.” And that was when Peter knew he really loved the girl.
They had been sitting on his bed, listening to some rock and roll music Jez always liked to make him listen to. And then she put her hand on his leg and kissed him on the cheek. Before that moment, they had never done anything more than hold hands, for Peter knew God disfavored any type of sexual activity before marriage. Even holding hands kept him up at night sometimes. But that kiss… It felt so perfect. And he knew they would get married eventually. Besides, it wasn’t like they were going to have sex. God couldn’t be that mad…
Peter and Jez had met in Church. She was different than the other girls: the clothes she wore were a little smaller and tighter, and she wore makeup. She was beautiful. And that was not all: sometimes, at Bible study, she would argue with the teacher and other students, explaining that the Bible could not possibly be right about this or that. Peter never agreed with her, but her voice…. it was beautiful.
He had wanted to ask her out on a date since they were fifteen. But he was always too scared. Peter was different than most people, including his fellow Christian soldiers at Church. He was an especially good Christian, believing the teachings of the Bible with his entire heart. Nothing and nobody could convince him that a single word in the great book was incorrect. Teachers and television attempted to sway him toward a path of evil secularism, that God did not create the world in six days or that women were not created from Adam’s rib or that humans evolved from monkeys. And he was the perfect child, never arguing or raising his voice at his parents – at least not since he was first sent to the whipping room when he was seven.
So the idea of dating Jez, the most perfect and beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on scared him. The temptation he would certainly be confronted with haunted his dreams. What if she wanted to hold hands? What if she wanted to kiss? God would be watching, judging, waiting to condemn them both to an eternity of hellfire. God would see anything and everything improper they did; He would know all their impure thoughts. And that made Peter nervous, so nervous, in fact, that whenever Jez would talk to him, he could do little more than stutter.
But then Jez asked him out. They’d gone out on a few dates and had the most wonderful time. On their second date, he gazed into her eyes, took in her perfumed scent and became mesmerized, forgetting his righteous inspired fears to the point where the courage to grab her hand overcame him. So they held hands. And later they shared an awkward kiss. And now here they were, sitting on his bed, doing what the kids call “making out.”
Peter only wanted to kiss her. But within seconds what started as a soft kiss became more and more passionate; and although he started to feel strange, as though someone, someone very powerful – God perhaps – were pulling him away from this sin, he just couldn’t help himself. And then Jez grabbed his hand and put it between her legs, and he could feel a soft wetness on her underwear that scared him. But rather than do the righteous thing, the thing that God certainly wanted Peter to do – pull away from the girl (who was a certainly a whore, Peter now knew somewhere in the recesses of his mind) and slap her for her disregard of the teachings of the Bible – he instead removed his hand and slid it up her shirt until he was touching the soft warmth of breast. And being inexperienced, he wasn’t quite sure what to do, so he took her breasts in both hands and squeezed them; and becoming bored with that, he gently – or so he thought – twisted her nipples like radio knobs until he heard a faint moan.
It was at that moment that millions of people suddenly vanished, Raptured up to heaven, leaving the rest of the world behind. And just as Peter removed his hands from Jez’s breasts, ready to go further, ready to do whatever she wanted him to do, explosions and crashes could be heard all around them, some as close as down the street and some miles off in the distance. With these sudden and horrible sounds of the world’s infrastructure coming to screeching halt, it was as though Peter awoke from a dream; and he pulled away from Jez, looking down at the disheveled mess of a whore, ashamed and frightened and ran down the stairs and out on to the street. But before he even took his first step, he knew what had happened. He knew he’d missed the Rapture, and he knew why (although he wasn’t sure if it was the holding of hands, the kiss, or exploration of her breasts).
What have I done? Peter thought to himself. Out on the street he could see a few cars crashed into other cars and into trees; and in the distance he could see thick plumes of smoke rising up high into the air, while sirens began to blare and cries and shouts could be heard in the houses around him. And Peter dropped to his knees and sobbed.
He could hear Jez’s footsteps as she approached, and suddenly he was angry. At her – at himself, too – but especially her, and rage crawled through his body like an intestinal parasite. Just like Adam in the Bible, he was fooled by a woman’s trickery, and now he’d missed his chance to be Raptured up. His only chance for Heaven was to redeem himself in the eyes of God. But time was not on his side, for Peter knew the tribulation period had begun and he could be killed at any moment. So he did what he knew God would want him to do, what God, he knew, was now whispering in his head for him to do : he hit Jez. First he whirled around and punched her in the stomach, and as she fell backward, he leapt to his feet and stood over her fallen body. Her face was twisted in surprise, but as he knelt to straddle her, a slight smile crosser her lips. And then he slapped her seven times. Not too hard, not so hard that it could have really hurt her, but hard enough to teach her a lesson. When he was finished, all Jez could say was: “I needed that.” And that was when Peter knew he really loved the girl.
21 Comments:
Two thumbs up for Nathaniel's latest offering, "The Rise and Fall of Peter." How Freudian can you get?
Now, here's MY latest offering. I heard it on the way to work this morning and laughed my butt off:
http://www.kzps.com/cc-common/podcast.html
Scroll down to the song "Old Time God."
I dedicate it to both Nathaniel and the good doctor.
Hey, is this my Potterfic? If so, I'll have you know that it goes directly against the canon. Peter Pettigrew doesn't like women at all! He was in love with Snape!
Apparently in Nathaniel's world, all the independant thought you can ever develop in a lifetime can be slapped right out of you in a matter of seconds.
That's because he was abused as a child. He didn't have much independant thought to slap out, so it worked.
Very, very true.
There weren't enough Chocolate Frogs in this piece for it to be a Potter 'fic.
Potter 'fics. *shudders* Nothing is darker or more gross than Snape and Mpreg.
Very true, Ryven. Snazzy and I want our chocolate frogs!
*pouts*
I know something darker than Snape and Mpreg. How about Fudge and Umbridge making babies.
guys -- this was not potterific. if it were, hermione would be a beautiful mother by now. and chocoloate frogs? in a truly Christian world, there would be no chocoloate...
led-head -- Umbridge is the perfect example of how women can lead us astray. i hope she is not the example you have been following on your path of teacher-hood.
ryven -- i do not like the subtitle to your name. it is bad enough that "ryven" is not unlike some heathen D&D game name; but women should not be touted as "gamers." games are for men.
Tough cookies. I've been Ocarina of Time 20 times and counting, among others. Besides, it's my blogger tag.
And yeah, Ryven is a sort of D&D game. Ryven is a multiclassed ranger/fighter, based around tracking, and fights with a icy burst longsword in her right hand, and a gauntlet in her left.
*Beaten, not been. G'ah, it's been a long day.
So, what is your problem with gaming. I'm fully willing to debate this one for HOURS!!!
Go ahead, try to prove it as a sin!
No, I think he just wants women to be miserable. Apparently they're not allowed to be gamers.
Nathaniel: "led-head -- Umbridge is the perfect example of how women can lead us astray. i hope she is not the example you have been following on your path of teacher-hood."
Heh, heh, I thought Umbridge would be an inspiration to you, Natty Boy! After all, she does believe in corporal punishment! And no, she isn't the example I've been following! McGonogall and Lupin are!
I will agree with you that she managed to lead a lot of people astray, particularly the students who loved her and thought she was wonderful, and also the Ministers of Magic that she probably boinks.
And no doubt, she's very evil. But that has nothing to do with the fact that she's a woman, and she doesn't have anything on Pettigrew or Voldy-poo.
It's funny how Nathaniel paints women as evil temptresses, but completely omits how evil men can be too. It's not that men or women can be evil, it's that people can be evil. Gender has nothing to do with it.
Isn't it, though?
As anyone who is familiar with the Harry Potter series knows, Umbridge was a bitch, but it was Lord Voldemort that wreaked all of the havoc. Yeah, yeah, someone might argue that Voldemort was a woman, just as they've argued that Raistlin was really a woman. But I don't think that's Rowling's intent.
Naw. If anything was Rowling's intent, it was to show how redeemable people are by their deeds and thoughts, not by bearing or creed. Like how Ron has a heart of gold, even though he's poor, and how Draco, though rich and better bred (that's up for opinion, though *L*), is a total jerk.
Yeah, I never could stand Draco or Lucius, and I *really* have to bite my tounge when I see someone going on about what "hotties" they are. But to each his own.
Eh, the ones who say they're "hotties" and "misunderstood" are usually the ones all gothed out and who usually drool over anyone who's dark or considered 'evil" because it's the "goth" thing to do. I swear, goths and emo's gripe so much about "conformity" and don't even know that they're subjecting themselves to it too.
Support Padfoot's Army.
Immy *really* stinks!
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