"You can have a second chance," came a voice from the pulpit, "You can still be saved," spoke a man at the head of the cathedral.
"You can still have bliss."
The gas-masked man did nothing to acknowledge the speaking one, continuing to pace, gazing at the terrified people, whatever expression on his face obscured, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie like some bored teenager. The calmness was unnatural.
"You are all heretics against the true god. These...symbols," he said, gazing back at the crucifix with disgust, "are merely symbols of your heresy; your devotion to a false deity! Your 'god' promises eternal life! It cannot give that to you, but we can...He can!" he waved a hand towards the masked man, who stopped in his tracks and appeared to look at the man at the pulpit, but he looked passed him, at the crucifix, and slowly strolled towards the head of the cathedral.
"Through Him you may continue forever as part of a greater whole, part of Him!"
The man reached the altar and gazed up at the crucifix with a look of triumph behind his mask, the Christian Saviour gazing back down at him with an eternal expression of sadness and agony.
"As long as He remains, you shall never fade."
The masked man turned to face the people gathered in the house of God, his features dropped from him, his flesh turning to liquid and pouring from his body, revealing what lies beneath. Lies. Lies to the core. All present gasped as they saw what they wanted to see, their loved ones returned. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, grandfathers, grandmothers, aunts, uncles, wives, husbands, sons, daughters, friends; all returned to them, arms outstretched to embrace and cry and love once more.
"But first, you must discard your shackles..."
Several other people holding machine guns moved to the top, spreading gasoline across the crucifix and the altar.
"...defy your false gods..."
A match set the area alight, spreading over it, charring it and destroying the symbols of faith.
"...accept your new lord..."
The stain glass windows were shattered as the people rounded the building, breaking in the saintly images with the butts of their rifles.
"...rise up, stand up..."
A group of the huddled masses rose to their feet; in fear, shock, awe and disbelief. The crucifix hold to wall was burnt through and it came crashing down upon the altar, flames consuming it angrily, illuminating the one who was many, the one who was the dead, their new saviour; He who controlled life and death, He who was God.
The risen people walked forth, unable to resist the call of their loved ones, the people they would have given anything to see once more and now they could, forever. A sound of laughter echoed about the walls, it had no source but one knew where it came from, He who was God laughed. In triumph, He laughed. The head of the procession arrived before Him, shakily ascending the steps, the sound of gunshots behind them unheard and unheeded as those who did not accept Him deserved only death, to be used as mere tools by He who was God while they would be given more. They gazed up at Him with awe, adoration and reverence, longing to be with Him, to be part of the whole, to be complete and perfect, existing in bliss forevermore.
"...and embrace Him!"