Baptism

“To end the life of another person,” the bespectacled man read from a tablet that served as the only light in the chapel. His voice bounced off the multicolored stained glass that covered the entire hall, as the boy across him thrashed in his constraints and slung blood from his wounded nails until another man stuck a needle in his arm.

“You now know The Truth, Roy Grainger,” he said as he looked up, and his spectacles shone with the white light from the screen which hid his eyes. “You understand why Aesthetica is perfect, and also why you now have to forget The Truth. You must sign a verbal contract, agreeing to never seek The Truth. If you remember it, and become deranged again, you must come here to be saved. Do you understand?”

The boy hung his head, and his eyelids sank until slivers of his pink-orange eyes remained. “You must agree to the contract of citizenship, Roy Grainger. Without that, you cannot be promised a life free of pain and suffering in a perfect world!"

The boy shook his head and blinked his swollen eyes. “I agree,” he cried, his eyes dyed a bright blue as he looked beyond the man to the myriad of colors on the stained glass that suddenly glowed like a star “I’ll do anything to be a citizen!”

“Very good,” the man replied. “You have the potential to become one of us. Welcome, Roy Grainger, to your new home. Welcome to Aesthetica!”