The Cremationist

Liza smiled sweetly to the family as she went over pricing and products.

“I can't believe he is dead." the young girl sobbed almost uncontrollably, "Its just so soon!"

“I understand how hard this is, truly I do. We only have a couple things left to do, and then I can get your husband back to you, I love the urn you selected, it is truly gorgeous." Liza said, a single tear swelling in the corner of her eye.

“Can you believe that he had just won the election for Mayor? Then the next thing is he is found completely unconscious at a bar, and before I can even get there, they are coding him."

“Mrs. Swanson..."

“Please call me Mary."

“Mary, your husband was going to do amazing things, I can't believe the timing, and the corner said his heart just stopped.” Liza said solemnly.

Mary wiped a tear away from her cheek, and nodded, as she signed the paperwork and slid it to Liza.

“I will have your husband back to you within the week." She took the papers and slid them into the file.

After finishing the conversation with Mary, and seeing her out. Liza stepped into the back of the building, entered a pin into a locked door, grabbed a gurney holding the body of the newly elected Mayor, and slowly walked it over to the retort door. She grabbed a syringe from her pocket, stabbed it in his arm and injected the substance. While waiting she pressed some buttons on the machine and it roared to life. Walking back over to the man, she noticed some slight movements under his eyelids, smiling she whispered,

"Wakey wakey eggs and bakey"

She reached over grabbing the straps and pulling them tighter, as one of his eyes opened.

“Well hello there Mr. Mayor." she winked at him as he made eye contact, and both his eyes popped open.

“Where?"

“Where are you? Oh, that is of no concern to you. What should be a concern is the state of that poor girl you brought into a bar, got drunk, and took advantage of... Mr. Mayor. Your poor wife, has so much on her plate, and you treat her that way? I couldn't help but notice how much younger than you she is."

“Ma...ry?"

“Oh you DO remember her? My golly, you told that poor girl you didn't HAVE a wife, I thought you must have forgotten her."

"Wha...t... what?"

“Oh you think you were watched? My dear, I am always watching." Liza grinned and looked up, "Oh look at the time!"

She grabbed a remote and pressed a button, opening the retort door slowly, the loud hum of intense fire and machinery echoed throughout the building as Liza took a ball and fit it inside the Mayors mouth.

“I’d ask you if you had any last words, but being as you like to take advantage of girls, I don't think your poison is worth the time and strain on my ears."

She grabbed the edge of the gurney, and clicked a button, "And your wife picked such a lovely urn for you at least."

She shoved the gurney towards the door, heat emanating throughout the opening, and the man started screaming and wiggling, his eyes wild and crazed as he tried to release himself. The edge hit the retort, and the top part of the gurney disconnected from the base and slide onto the stone bricks inside. Screaming became louder and more frantic as she moved the gurney base and walked towards the doorway.

“At least you will be warm. Unlike that poor thirteen year old girl you left in a snow bank after you defiled her." she grabbed the door, and as his head raised, gaze meeting hers, she smiled and slammed it shut, turning the lever to lock it.

“What a waste of gas." she tsk'ed as she walked back to her desk to finish the paperwork. "That poor wife will not have to have the pain and heartache now that he causes. She will be free to live her life now."

Liza pulled down a book and opened it. Various pictures of high-ranking officials, surrounded by young girls all dressed in plain light pink dresses, their hair tied up in braids, and pinched to pink checks. She thumbed through the pages, seeing the old worn down shacks that housed the members of the cult. Pictures of girls aged ten wearing hand-me-down white dresses; lining up to men at alters, with the leader standing at the podium for mass marriage ceremony's, and all of the leader’s young brides kneeling at his feet. In the middle of the group, kneeling directly to his right, a young Liza, with her tear stained cheeks, and ceremonial light purple dress gathering around her. Flowers adorned her braids and circled the crown of her head. Being the leaders bride meant nothing special, aside from you had to be at every service, and your age and appearance was heavily watched.

Liza sighed as she flipped through, memories flooding her as her friends and sister wives were either murdered or rushed into a building meant to caring for children to young to be wedded off once they hit sixteen. In the "Glory of All" cult, you were married at ten years old to a man, and by sixteen, you were expected to have had at least one child. If at sixteen, you had not procured a child for the man, you were seen as unfit, tied to a heavy metal chair, and dropped into a lake. Cleansed of the demons by water. Had you had a child by sixteen, or were pregnant, you were considered blessed, and sent to the "mother home" to help care for all children. Children in the cult did not have parents, you had groups. Boy children at ten would be sent to live with either the leader or high-ranking officials in the community, to learn what it was to be a man and how to treat woman. You received your first bride at twenty-five years old, by that point; you were expected to already be in a decent job, or at a university. If you were unable to achieve these, you were not allowed a bride, and were cast to the workhouse, to be the cults manual labor slaves. When a woman reached the age of twenty-five, she was taken to an auction house and assessed. If she was still of good appearance and body shape, she was sent to the bordello to become a toy. If her appearances had dwindled, she was then auctioned to the men as a house woman to care for cleaning, clothing mending, and cooking. By the age of fifty, you had exceeded your usefulness and cast to be cleansed. In the woman's house's, a cleansing was considered joyful, as you were no longer subjected to the horrible treatment, ridicule, and sexual assault anymore. Your soul was to be cleared.

Liza looked at the picture of her at sixteen in front of the "Mother's home" and sighed. That was the last picture taken of her, before she climbed out of a window, and down a tree to escape into the forest, following the death of her daughter due to neglect from a jealous sister wife. Liza struggled hard, but was able to go far with her life, swearing seek vengeance for her and her friends, and hoping to one day free all of the girls of "Glory to All".

“We shall be free...."