Sally’s Ordeal

Posted by Hufkens on April 03, 2005 at 10:49:15:

Sally’s Ordeal
Prologue
It started when George Bush was re-elected. There had been hints in his first term that he wanted religion to play a larger role in politics, but it wasn’t until his second term that he really began to tear down the separation between church and state.
Now, thirty years later, the Angels of the Lord, a vigilante group, have become the de facto national police. But the people they apprehend are tried in ecclesiastical courts without the benefit of an attorney and under very flexible rules known as Church Law.
The Angels established camps around the country for those convicted of crimes under the Church Law. Their goal was not punishment, but the salvation of the person’s soul. Because their focus was on the soul, they did not concern themselves with what happened to the body.
This is the story of one young woman who became their victim.
Chapter One
To Sally, it was all a blur. The ecclesiastical tribunal had charged her and convicted her of homosexuality in a fifteen minute meeting. She had been summoned before them with no warning. The charge was read, she was asked if it was true, and she denied it. Then she was asked to offer proof in her own defense. Of course there was none that she could offer because it is a fundamental precept of logic that you can not prove a negative.
The ecclesiastical tribunals do not use logic so even if she had been able to prove that she was not a lesbian, it might not have mattered. Their purpose is to identify sins and sinners. Without either of those, they have no reason to exist. Therefore, it should not surprise anyone that over ninety-five percent of all of the accused are found guilty. It was actually easy when the same organization was both judge and prosecution. Since they operated with the tacit approval of the government, there were no checks on their authority.
In Sally’s case, the charge had come from one of the faithful. Eric had asked her out on a date and she had refused. In his mind, she had to be a lesbian to turn him down. Since his father was a powerful figure in the church, his word carried far more weight than did Sally’s.
That was how she found herself transported to the camp. The Angels of the Lord, a private, but government backed group ran over one hundred of the camps around the country. The camps were the places sinners were sent to be saved. Sally, an eighteen year old three months out of high school had heard of the camps, as had everyone. In Sunday school and church, the camps were talked about in much the same way hell was discussed in earlier ages. They were the threat that kept people on the straight and narrow.
However, the punishments were just as intangible as those in hell to anyone who had not been to the camps. No one, outside the guards who manned the camps and the people that were sent to them for salvation, really knew what went on there.
Sally was taken to the camp in a van. The windows were shaded so she never saw anything on the trip. Her first sight of the camp was after she was inside and the van door was opened. She stepped out onto hard packed dirt and looked at the wooden buildings around her. Two Angels, dressed in their black uniforms took position on each side of her and grasped her arms. Then they pulled her toward the closest building.
Once inside, she saw that it was a large shower. One of the two Angels told her to strip and shower. Sally looked at them, expecting them to leave first, but they stood there, resolute. She asked them to leave and they did not respond or acknowledge her in any way. So Sally stood there waiting. She was not going to undress in front of the two men.
One of the Angels looked at his watch, then resumed his position. After a few more minutes, he looked again and nodded to the other Angel. They approached Sally and she backed up, trying to maintain her distance from them, but after a few steps her back was against the wall. One of the Angels took her wrists in one hand and lifted her arms over her head. The other Angel pulled a knife from his boot and proceeded to cut her clothes away. In less than a minute, the young girl was naked, her arms still held above her head and on display for the two Angels.
“Take a shower, and use the toilet,” the Angel told her. The other released her wrists and Sally scurried to one of the shower heads. She turned it on and was suddenly shocked by the cold water that came spraying out. She saw some soap, but no shampoo, and washed herself with her back to the two men.
When she finished, she looked around for a towel, but there were none. She squeezed the water out of her hair, and tried to wipe the water off her body with her hands. When she finished, she turned slowly to face the two guards. One of them nodded toward the open toilets and Sally shook her head no. He nodded again and she knew that resisting them was futile. Trying to maintain some dignity, she went to the toilet and sat down. Blushing, she relieved her self and wiped, not looking at the men watching her.
She stood up and the two men took positions again on either side of her, grasping her upper arms in their strong hands. They led her out of the building and across a courtyard to another building. This one was very long and narrow. Inside, the lights were dim, just barely enough to see. Along both walls were rows of small cages with people inside, all of them naked. The men leading Sally took her to one of the unoccupied cages, unlocked the door, and told her to get inside. She got down on her hands and knees and backed into the cage. The men closed the door and locked it with a padlock.
Sally was not able to stretch out, or even turn around in the cage. She did roll over onto her back, and with her knees pulled up to her chest, laid there wondering what was going to happen to her. She knew she hadn’t done anything and could not understand why this was happening to her.
She slept fitfully through the night, unable to assume a comfortable position. Most of the night was spent on her side, using her arm as a pillow. Occasionally, she heard groans from other cages. Once she heard a woman, at least she thought it was a woman, scream. Not knowing the cause, which was a muscle cramp that the woman could not relieve, prompted nightmares whenever she was able to sleep.
In the morning, pairs of guards would come into the building and remove one of the cages’ occupants. Once, when the man across from her was taken out, she saw that before leaving the building, he was shackled. Cuffs went on his ankles and wrists, connected to each other by short chains. Another chain joined the two sets of cuffs. Together, he was hobbled effectively and had to take very small steps to move. Throughout the day, people were taken, maybe seven or eight, and she began to hope that someone would come for her so she could at least stretch her legs. The fact that she would be led away, naked and shackled, did not bother her because all she wanted was relief from the cramped position in which she was forced to remain.
Late that evening, two guards came through the building pushing a cart with two large pots and bowls. When they got to Sally’s cage, they opened the door and handed her two bowls, one filled with water and one filled with some kind of porridge. She ate the porridge first, ravenous from being kept all day without food, then drank the water. The Angels took the bowls back from her and relocked the door. Sally wanted to scream at them to let her out, but she was afraid of what they would do to her if she did.
Shortly after she had eaten, two more guards came through, escorting two naked and shackled women. The women pulled the pans out from under the cages and, when they were dirty, dumped the human waste into a large barrel on wheels that they pushed along. The pan was replaced and they moved on to the next cage.
Day after day, the routine was repeated. Sally began to pray that they would take her whenever the guards came for one of the prisoners. It was on her third day that she suffered the first muscle spasm in her leg and she screamed as the pain of the cramped muscle radiated through her body. Eventually, the muscle relaxed again on its own, but not until after Sally was left breathless and crying from her inability to deal with the pain. The smell of urine and feces was overpowering during the day, almost strong enough so that she could not smell her own body odor that had been building each day. Her teeth went un-brushed and her mouth had a foul taste in it all of the time.
After she had been there almost a week, eight of the guards appeared in the building at the same time. One at a time, they released the captives and shackled them at the wrists and ankles. Additionally, they connected each person to a long chain at the ankle. Sally, being toward the middle of the long row of cages, found herself in the middle of the chain. She, along with everyone else, stood in place as all of the prisoners were released. She noticed that men and women alternated on the chain. Then the long line of naked captives were led out of the building and back toward the building where Sally had first showered. They moved slowly, many limping and hunched over as they were unable to straighten their bodies completely.
Once inside, all of the showers were turned on and the prisoners squirmed under the cold water for a few moments. After they were accustomed to it, the men reached for the bars of soap and began washing the women. Sally had to bend over slightly so the man who was cleaning her could reach her head and hair with his chained arms. He washed it thoroughly, and scrubbed her back as she bent over. Then he had her stand up while he washed the rest of her. As his hands touched her breasts, her nipples hardened into tiny pebbles and she blushed as she looked in his face and saw his reaction. She continued blushing, and began to squirm when his hands went between her legs to wash her mound. Finally, he knelt down and washed her legs and feet. When he finished, Sally got underneath the shower and rinsed off. Then the man who had been the first to touch her intimately handed the soap to Sally. She knew she was expected to wash him, and she tried to do a thorough job of it. When it came time to wash his penis and scrotum, she reached for it gingerly. He saw her hesitation and nodded to her that it was all right. She washed him and was surprised as his flaccid penis became erect. She continued washing it until she heard him moan softly and then he quickly backed away. She finished with his legs and feet and watched his penis shrink as he rinsed off under the cold water.
After showering, Sally and the others were taken back to their cages. Within just a few minutes of being secured again in the cage, the luxury of the cold shower was a distant memory.
It was another three days before the Angels came for Sally. Once shackled, she was led outside. The building she was taken to this time was small and square. When she entered, she was pushed down to her knees by the guards in front of a table with three chairs. Sally did not realize it, but her questioning was about to begin.
Chapter Two
Sally had been kneeling for fifteen minutes and her knees hurt when the three questioners entered. But compared to the tiny cage where she had spent the last week and a half, she was relatively comfortable kneeling. The questioners were men, dressed in long, red robes, and they seated themselves at the table looking down at Sally. Sally had been naked so long, that she barely thought about her body on display for them.
The questioner in the center laid a folder on the table and opened it, reviewing the contents for several minutes before passing it to the person on his left. That man also took several minutes to review the file before passing it to the man at the other end of the table. After he had reviewed it, he handed it back to the man in the center.
“You will address us as Reverend Sir. Do you understand, Sally?”
Sally nodded and the man did not say anything. He just sat there waiting. Finally, it dawned on Sally what was expected. “Yes, Reverend Sir.”
“Sally, are you a lesbian?”
“No, Reverend Sir.”
“Have you ever touched another woman or girl in an intimate way?”
“No, Reverend Sir.”
“Why would someone accuse you of that if it were not true? Bearing false witness is a serious offense against God.”
“I don’t know, Reverend Sir because I don’t know who accused me.”
“The accuser is not relevant, Sally.”
“With due respect, Reverend Sir, I disagree. Since the accusation is not true, the accuser’s identity is important in establishing a motive for the accusation.”
The face of the man doing the questioning clouded over for a few seconds and Sally was terrified that she had made him angry. Then he leaned back in his chair and laughed. “You are quick witted, aren’t you, Sally.”
“Thank you, Reverend Sir.”
“Unfortunately, what I said stands. You have been accused and found to be a sinner. Our purpose here is to determine how best to bring you back to salvation.”
Sally sagged for a moment, thinking that she was finally being given an opportunity to defend herself then finding out that her hope was misplaced. She straightened back up and faced the men across from the table.
Her physical response was noted by the three men. The two on the outside leaned in toward the one in the center and they whispered together for a few minutes. When they resumed their positions, the one in the center spoke again.
“Sally, you are going to be given a choice. Your first choice is to accept behavior modification. We have a well designed and proven program that will completely wipe out any lesbian tendencies you have. The program takes eight weeks to complete. Or you can attempt to prove your innocence through a physical ordeal, in which you will suffer as Christ did. If you are in fact Godly, you can pass the ordeal and be free in two or three days with your reputation restored. Before you choose, I will tell you that if you are a homosexual, it would be best if you chose the former. Even if you are not, you may feel that going through the behavior modification program would be preferable to the ordeal. Which do you choose?”
Sally tried to reason through the decision, but she simply did not have enough facts. All she knew was two or three days against eight weeks, and that the days would be an ordeal. She was young and healthy and decided that the ordeal, while difficult, would be worth not spending eight weeks under the control of the Angels of the Lord. In a loud, clear voice, she told the men, “Reverend Sirs, I am not a homosexual. I choose the ordeal.”
“Take her away and prepare her,” he told the two guards.
It was just about noon when Sally was taken to another of the wooden buildings. This one had cells with real beds and toilets. There was also a tap and a plastic cup. The guards put her in the cell and removed her shackles. As they locked the door behind her, they told her to drink plenty of water today, because she would need it to prevent dehydration during the ordeal. “Your ordeal starts at seven in the morning,” was the last thing they told her as they left her alone.
Chapter Three
Sally was awakened from a deep sleep by one of the guards. She woke almost immediately, bright and alert from the first good sleep she had since arriving. She jumped out of bed and headed straight for the toilet, still embarrassed at having the men watch her relieve herself, but certain that they would not give her privacy. When she finished, the guards encouraged her to drink some more water before they left.
Sally was surprised that she was not shackled again before leaving the cell. Once outside, however, she saw that it was not necessary to prevent an attempt at escape. There were six more guards, in addition to the two that had awakened her, waiting for her to leave the building.
One of the guards told Sally to stand still. Two others took a heavy wooden beam, weighing about seventy-five pounds, and place it across her shoulders. While they held it in place, two other guards pulled her hands up to the beam and tied them in place with rope so that her arms stretched out horizontally. As soon as she was secured, the two guards holding the beam let go and Sally sagged under the weight of it. Bent forward at the hips, she had to concentrate on keeping her balance. Then the eight guards formed a square around her and told her to walk.
Sally tentatively put one foot in front of the other, actually taking steps that were just as small as if her ankles had been shackled. The beam, which was almost three-quarters of her own body weight, pressed down on her and kept her from lifting her head very much. That was actually a small benefit because Sally had to watch where she placed her feet, and counteract the uneven ground by shifting her weight as she walked.
Sometimes, as they passed different buildings in the camp, Sally thought she heard screams. She wondered if the agony and suffering inherent in the cries of pain she heard were part of the behavior modification that she was avoiding.
Despite the coolness of the morning, Sally was perspiring heavily within just a few steps. She had no idea how far they were going and had to keep telling herself to just take one step at a time. Had she not had her entire attention focused on looking down at her feet and the ground, she would have seen that she was being marched toward the rear of the compound. A normal walking pace is three miles per hour. Sally was doing less than a third of that. After thirty minutes, the cordon around her stopped and she almost ran into the guard in front of her. One of the guards opened a gate in the wire that surrounded the compound and the small procession marched through.
The dirt that Sally had been walking on changed to grass and she welcomed the coolness and comfort it gave her feet. But then she noticed that the ground was starting to rise and her breathing became labored as she struggled to carry her heavy burden uphill. The pace of the group, already slow, became even slower. On and on she trudged.
When she was able to think, she remembered something the questioner had said; that she was to suffer as Christ had. She remembered the stories from Sunday school about how he had been forced to carry his cross until, completely exhausted, He had collapsed and someone from the crowd took up His burden. She understood that they were simulating his walk to Calvary.
It was almost an hour later that the naked girl, surrounded by the eight guards in black uniforms realized that there were others watching her progress. As they approached the crest of the hill, Sally could hear the murmurs and exclamations from other people. She tried to look to the sides and in her peripheral vision saw the feet and legs of the men and women who were forming a corridor for her and her guards. The only thing that kept Sally going was the thought that if she failed the ordeal, she would have to spend eight more weeks at the camp.
At the top of the hill, Sally was helped to the ground by the guards. She lay on her back, sweaty and exhausted, her chest heaving as she tried to suck more air into her lungs. She felt, rather than saw, her arms being released from the heavy beam. Once free, the guards helped her to her feet again and she stood panting in the bright sunshine, surrounded not only by her guards, but also by a crowd of about a hundred people. Sally stood proudly, the sunlight glistening off the perspiration that covered her body, unwilling to let the crowd see the humiliation she felt at being exposed naked to them.
The three men in red robes who had questioned her the day before stood in front of her. “Your ordeal has begun, Sally,” one of them started. “However, you still have this one chance to change your mind and enter the behavior modification program. After this point, it will continue to the conclusion and you will not be given another chance to change your mind. What say you?”
“I will continue,” Sally whispered, unable yet to give full voice to her decision.
“I need to hear it from you more specifically. Do you choose to suffer as Christ did?”
Without hesitating, Sally said that she did.
Two of the guards took her wrists and led her to two tall poles that were placed deep in the ground. At the top of each pole was a pulley with a chain. At the end of the chain was a leather cuff. Sally was placed between the poles by the guards and a cuff locked onto each wrist. The two more guards pulled on the chains from the other end, pulling her arms out and up until her heels lifted and she was standing on her toes. The chains were slipped over hooks that held them tight. Sally was in the form of a Y, her arms stretched up and out from her body. Her small breasts became even flatter as her uplifted arms pulled her breasts up with them.
Sally wondered to herself if they were doing this to simulate crucifixion. The pain in her shoulders became a dull ache as they bore the weight of her body. Then the questioner who had been the only one to communicate with her walked over in front of her.
“Christ was scourged on his way to the cross. Let this woman now feel the pain he felt.”
He backed away and one of the guards unfurled a whip. The people witnessing Sally’s ordeal crowded in closer until he had to motion them back so they would be outside the whip’s reach as he swung it. Standing slightly behind Sally, she saw nothing of this but knew she was going to be whipped now and prayed for the strength she would need to endure it. She closed her eyes tightly and steeled herself for the first stroke.
She heard the whip whistle through the air just before her back exploded in pain. The force of the blow threw her forward and knocked the wind out of her, preventing her from screaming. The second blow caught her before she could get back on her feet and this time she did scream. The pain raced through her body like current through a wire. She did not even try to get back on her feet; she just hung in her bonds, waiting for the next layer of pain to enter her.
After twelve blows, she passed out. She was awakened by a bucket of ice water dousing her. She had to get back on her toes so her legs could take her weight because her shoulders and arms were burning. When she finally did struggle to stand, she tried to see the reaction of the crowd to her suffering, but all she could see was the blur of faceless people around her. Then her eyes focused on the red robes of the men who had ordered this done to her and she felt hate for the first time in her life.
Again the whip lashed out at her, but this time, she held her ground and remained standing. Nor did she scream, but her tears demonstrated for everyone the agony that she felt. The red welts on her back were alive and growing. She could sense every one of them, could almost see them crisscrossing her body in back between her shoulders and her knees. Again and again the whip slashed at her until finally, unable to stop herself, she began screaming and pleading for mercy.
Twice more Sally passed out and was brought back to consciousness by the icy cold water. After fifty strokes, the guard handed the whip to another of the black-garbed Angels. Her new tormentor moved in front of her and off to the side, ready to repeat the ravishing of her back on her front.
Now Sally could see the whip as it came to bite her tender skin. It seemed to her that it was moving in slow motion, so slowly that there wasn’t any way that it could hurt her. But hurt her it did. Her thighs, stomach, and breasts all were scorched by the fire in the whip.
Finally, mercifully, it was over. They let her hang between the poles after they stopped whipping her. One of the guards brought her water and she drank greedily, trying to replace all that she had lost on the trek to this damnable place and during her torture. Her chin, sunk to her chest and she was surprised to see that all of the whip strokes had not cut her. The red welts stood out against her fair skin, but there was no blood. Her mind wandered, unable to focus on any one thing for very long. She thought of her parents and brother, who she would be seeing again soon. She thought of the crowd who watched her suffer and wondered why they wanted to see it. She thought of the men in the red robes and the hate she felt gave her strength. She wondered how long they would let her hang there, clothed only in the red welts from one hundred whip strokes. But most often, she had a single thought, that her ordeal was over and she had survived it.
Chapter Four
At noon, they finally took her down from between the poles. The guards carried her through the crowd to the site of her final test. There on the ground was a cross made of thick, square beams. They laid her on it so her head was just above the cross piece and two guards took each of her hands and pulled her arms out across it. Two other guards held her feet in place. The last two had the spikes and hammer that would be used to nail her to the cross.
When Sally finally realized what they were going to do, she screamed and kicked, trying desperately to escape. But with two strong men holding each arm, and another one holding each leg, there was no way for her to get away. The guard with the spikes positioned one between the two bones of her forearm just above the wrist. Sally stopped screaming and grew silent, watching as the hammer was raised but then turning away before it fell. Once again she screamed in pain as the spike speared through her flesh and embedded in the wood. Five more times the hammer fell, pushing the spike through her arm and into the cross. Then it was time for the other arm. This time, she watched in horrid fascination as the hammer came down hard on the head of the spike and it broke through her skin and the wood. Blow after blow to the spike and Sally could feel the spike rubbing against the bone and tendons as it was forced deeper into the wood. Before putting the spike in her feet, they pulled on her legs, stretching her tautly. Her left foot was placed on top of her right and with one blow the spike pierced both of her feet. Several more hammer blows and Sally was bound to the cross by the iron nails.
She writhed in pain, squirming against the rough wood of the cross. The eight guards took position above her head; four on each side of the cross piece, and began lifting the cross. When the cross piece was shoulder high to them, two of the guards got under the vertical piece and pushed it up, lifting Sally higher and higher into the air. Two more guards got in front and put their hands on her thighs to keep the cross from tipping forward. As the cross reached vertical, it slid down into a hole that had been dug with a bone jarring thud and Sally screamed again. Quickly, two more of the guards hammered wedges into the ground on each side of the base to keep it firmly in place and prevent it from wobbling.
Surprising to those who had never witnessed a crucifixion, but not to those who had, there was very little blood coming from the puncture wounds in Sally’s arms and feet.
Sally looked down at the crowd, her face contorted in pain. The three men in red robes, their heads level with Sally’s knees, looked up at her. Then they turned and walked away. The crowd gathered around her to witness her suffering. Some of them knelt and were in prayer, ostensibly for her, but a few were praying that they would never have to endure what she was experiencing.
All of the Sunday school lessons about the crucifixion of Christ came back to her in a flood of memories. She remembered that death was usually the result of suffocation. She remembered that the terror of crucifixion was that the victim remained lucid the entire time, consciousness never left, so that the pain she was now experiencing would not go away. Her legs, still weak from the whipping and carrying the beam, could not support her. All of her weight was on her shoulders and arms and she felt the muscles begin to tighten even more under the load they now supported. Sally knew that she would eventually have to push herself up with her legs, but for now that was impossible.
It was now early afternoon and the sun beat down on her. Sweat pored off of her and she began to worry about dehydration. She could survive without water for a few days, she knew, but the dehydration would cause her muscles to cramp and spasm.
Sally had been on the cross for an hour when she pushed her self up so her weight was on her nailed feet. Putting pressure on them caused her excruciating pain, but she had no choice. The people watched her struggle with rapt attention, wanting to turn away, but also fascinated by her suffering. Like this, her breathing was not as labored and she started looking at the crowd. At first, she tried to take them all in but then her attention focused on individuals. As she made eye contact with them, they turned away until her gaze moved to someone else. Then they would turn their eyes back to her.
In the quasi-theocracy that the United States had become, pornography had been outlawed and only existed in small underground pockets. Ninety-nine percent of the population had never seen someone of the opposite gender nude, with the exception of their spouses. Sally’s body was beautiful, with pink nipples on small breasts of alabaster. Her wispy pubic hair, blonde as the hair on her head, did little to hide her mound and slit. While some of the men in the crowd were aroused by the sight of her, most, while intrigued by the beautiful body displayed before them, stared at her face where the agony of her crucifixion was plainly displayed.
Throughout the afternoon they watched her rise and sink on the cross. It became a dance as she squirmed to force herself higher and give her arms and shoulders some relief. It was almost five o’clock when she experienced her first muscle spasms. The first time it was in her legs. They could see the muscles in her thighs and calves rippling under the skin. Sally screamed again, albeit faintly, as she twitched and twisted in order to stop the pain. After a few minutes, the spasms stopped and she lowered herself once again. The next time it was her back muscles that betrayed her and as she twisted violently, many feared that she would rip free of the nails that held her so tightly to the cross.
As the sun began to set, spotlights were set up illuminating her. With the lights shining up at her, she was unable to see the crowd, just as an actor on the stage cannot see the audience because of the footlights shining up into his eyes. It made her feel isolated and alone.
With the setting sun, the temperature began to drop. Soon it was chilly, with temperatures in the high fifties. The perspiration that had covered her all day made her feel colder than it actually was as it evaporated and was not replaced. The salt that had been leaking out of her along with the sweat made her skin itchy and created a new torment that she had to endure.
Most of the crowd had left after the sun went down, but a few remained on vigil throughout the night. The pain that Sally had been experiencing as sharp flashes became a dull throb that permeated her body. That is not to say that it was less intense, because it was not. It was just different. Throughout the night she also shivered, the body’s way of producing warmth when it was cold, but this merely served to drain her energy faster without an appreciable result. Physiologically, the one change that was apparent to observers was that her nipples, flaccid throughout the day, crinkled into hard little pebbles that stood out from her breasts because of the cold.
As the sun came up, Sally no longer cared if she lived or died. All she wanted was relief from the pain. She was exhausted and knew that she would not be able to raise herself many more times. This was serious to her because she was finding it harder and harder to expel the air from her lungs as she hung limply on the cross. Without the air being forced out of her, new, fresh air could not take its place. As the temperature rose, she did not begin to perspire again; a sign that she was dehydrated.
When the sun was directly overhead, Sally realized that she had spent twenty-four hours on the cross. She believed that she would die sometime that night and she accepted that. Through the haze of continuous pain, she looked once more to the crowd and was surprised to see the men in the red robes standing in front of her. One of them summoned the guards and Sally felt the cross vibrate as hammer blows knocked the wedges free. Then she felt the cross being lifted from the hole and lowered to the ground. The heads of the spikes that impaled her were chiseled off and her arms and feet were pulled off of them. Bandages were quickly applied to stop any residual bleeding, but the clotting that had taken place hours earlier prevented any real blood loss. A needle was stuck in her arm, an intravenous feeding tube to replenish her. Then she was lifted onto a stretcher and carried to an ambulance. The ambulance took her back to the camp and she was put in the infirmary. An anesthetic was administered in the ambulance that put her to sleep almost immediately.
When she finally awoke, she was sore but free of pain. During the time she was unconscious, surgeons had repaired her damaged feet and arms. The man in the red robe who had been the only one to talk with her was in her room as consciousness returned. She stared at him for several moments before he finally broke the silence.
“You will get better, you know. In fact, you will be returned to you family later today.”
“I hate you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, I know. But the real question is, ‘Do you hate the church?’”
“I don’t know how I feel about a religion that would do what you did to me.”
“That is natural. I would be surprised if you felt any differently.”
Neither of them said anything for quite awhile. Then he spoke again.
“If it is any consolation, you accuser was brought in for questioning. We did this because of your desire to prove her innocence. Not many would have endured what you did to earn their reputation back.”
“I’m not sure I would have done it had I known everything before hand.”
“Of course not. But your suffering provided a greater good. The witnesses to your ordeal were deeply affected in a very positive way, as far as the church is concerned. You strengthened their faith. By witnessing you suffer as Christ did, they appreciate even more what He gave up for them. When we circulate the word that you were really innocent, the effect will be multiplied. For that, the church owes you a deep debt.”
“Is that what this was all about?”
“It was part of it. Not all, but part.”
“When can I go home?”
“As soon as you sign the secrecy oath.”
“Secrecy oath?”
“Yes. It says that if you ever talk or write about your experiences, you will be brought back to one of our camps.”
“I don’t know that I can do that.”
“Then you will remain here. Do you remember hearing screams as you walked through the camp?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t want to remain here. Some sinners require stronger persuasion than others to induce them to repent their sins.”
Epilogue
Sally went home that night after signing the oath. She took a year off before going to college. At school, instead of majoring in science as she had intended, she took courses in history and government. She was particularly interested in military history. Six years after graduation, she became one of the leaders in the underground that was attempting to overthrow the church.

From McKenzie For crucified-women.com