She’s is God’s Tool
Written by AL_365
“I always knew that I was a chosen one, that god had a plan for me.” Shayna smiled with the serenity of a Buddhist monk. “I never knew that it would be in this way – but I don’t need to understand his plan.”
“God told you to kill these people?” I asked.
“Yes.” She said, and her smile seemed even more relaxed.
“What makes you so sure?”
“I called him.”
“You called god?”
“Yes,” Shayna said. “If you are devout enough, if you prove your faith, then you too can hear him.”
“You prove your faith by killing people?”
“No,” she said. “Of course not. You have to give everything up. You have to give everything away and refuse all offers for more than you can eat, have to refuse all offers for a bed for more than a night. You have to be willing to be his tool, then he will grant you the privilege to be his tool.”
“That’s why you lived on the street?”
“I don’t call it ‘living on the street’. It is a pilgrimage. Like the Way of Saint James that my mother always talked about.”
“And of course you also have to show your faith. You have to pray every two hours.”
I glanced at the dark rings around her eyes.
“Even at night?”
“Yes. Silent prayer during the day, prostrations during the night. That’s what god told me in my dreams when I was young. When you are young god still speaks to you. But not everybody listens. Parents and school force children to ignore the voice of god, but I listened. I listened to him every night. He instructed me how to live, how to eat, how to breathe and how to pray.”
“God told you all that when you were young?”
“Yes, he did. That’s why I ran away when I turned fourteen. I stopped hearing him. My mother said it was because I was growing older and my imagination was fading. But I knew the truth, I knew that I wasn’t living right. I had possessions. I had lust and greed. So I left.”
“And then you heard the voice again?”
“No.” Shayna looked towards her feet. “For far too long I didn’t. I tried, every night; I kept my eyes and ears open. But he was gone because I had sinned, because I had felt lust for a married man and because I had possessions. God doesn’t speak to sinners until they make amends. That’s why he doesn’t talk to many people. There are too many sinners in this world. Even the pope with his golden palace – god doesn’t speak to him. God won’t speak to anyone who has possessions.”
“Why are you so sure of that?”
“Because he told me so! God told me so!”
“How can you be sure if god didn’t speak to you anymore?”
“Oh, he does. He speaks to me. I prayed every day and every night. I lived the pilgrim’s life. And finally he answered; finally he answered while I was praying. I asked for him, I begged him to speak to me – and he spoke my ‘Amen’ for me. At the end of my prayer, he spoke it for me.”
“You heard a voice saying ‘amen’?”
“Not just a voice, his voice. And that was only the first word. The next day he began speaking to me; he told me that he accepted my sacrifice, that he would make me his tool when I was needed.”
“And he needed you?”
“No, god doesn’t need me. But he offered me to become his tool. He said that I would be allowed to fulfill his wish, and I was never happier in my life.”
“And then he told you to kill?”
“No, at least not at first. He told me to wait, and that he would let me know when he wanted to use me.”
“How did you know when he wanted to use you?”
“God told me.” Shayna said. “He told me by sending this man, by making him insult me. And when the man turned around god said that I should kill him. And so I did.”
“It was easy to kill him, because god was on my side. God gave me the metal bar, and god made sure that no one would see me.”
“The voice in your head told you to kill the voice?”
“Not any voice; his voice! I recognize his voice from when I was young; it is raspy but smooth and speaks with long syllables.”
“Shayna, do you hear this voice right now?”
“No. God only speaks to me when I am needed, when he has a new task for me.”
“He also told you to kill the mailman?”
“Of course. I would never kill one of god’s creatures without his command.”
“The voice told you to kill the mailman?”
“God told me to kill the mailman.”
“I don’t know. It is his plan. I am only his tool. He commands and I obey.”
“That is all? You heard the command and straight away killed these men?”
“Yes.” Shayna laughed. “I can hear your lack of faith. God doesn’t like that.”
“You killed eight men.”
“Seven men and one woman.”
“All because god told you so?”
“You never doubted his orders? Or misheard them?”
“God speaks very clearly.”
“The voice in your head is very clear?”
“Yes, as I said, god speaks very clearly.”
It was hard to look at the woman in front of me. Her wrists were bound to the chair with light brown leather straps that nearly faded into her skin tone. The curly black hair was reaching far over her shoulders. And she smiled and laughed while she told me about her murders. Over a year she killed seven men and one woman.
“Did you ever follow these people around?”
“Not for long. God showed them to me on the street. I felt the urge to walk into a specific direction, looked at the people around – and, at some point, suddenly, his voice said ‘This one!’ and I knew what to do.”
“You never saw any of these people together?”
“No. God only revealed me one of them at a time.”
“You didn’t know of any connection between them?”
“God never told me anything about them. He only told me who I would have to kill.”
Shayna’s victims appeared random: A lawyer, a mailman, a second lawyer, a female gardener, a priest, a night guard, and two programmers.
“You weren’t aware of the website?”
But one thing connected them.
“What website?” Shayna asked.
“The one where they met; where they shared their ‘work’.”
“No,” she said. “I don’t know much about websites.”
“Okay, I said. It’s not important.”
“You know,” she said. “I will always be god’s tool, no matter what you think or do. I will be his tool. I will pray and live as a pilgrim for life. And if he calls upon me I will answer.”
“Okay,” I said. “But first you will stay here for a while.”
“Sure,” she said. “If that’s what god wants.”
“That’s what god wants.” I said.
When I stepped out of the white room I had to wipe the sweat off my face. It is always hard to talk toclients, but the hardest to talk to those that don’t see their mistake.
I didn’t believe her a thing. I didn’t believe what she said. But she lived on the street. She didn’t have access to internet for years.
She couldn’t have known of the website, of the child pornography ring. And still she took out eight out of nine. And the ninth barely survived.