Kentavious Caldwell-Pope, adorned in the papal Pallium vestment, entered the cathedral where mass was taking place. Coming in through the back, nobody took notice of him as he entered the rear of the sanctuary.
The priest at the front was saying some kind of prayer. It was the perfect time to interrupt, as everybody else was totally silent.
“Imposter! Deceiver! Step down from your platform and meet the wrath of the Pope!” yelled Kentavious, running down the center aisle holding high his cross-topped papal ferula. So shocked were the congregants that nobody even made a move to stop his progress; they merely watched with mouths agape as the intruder approached the stunned-looking priest.
“Did you not hear me? Leave this place, fool, or be banished forcibly!” Kentavious shouted, adjusting the triregnum on his head that had been knocked askew from his running.
“Calm down, sir,” responded the priest, clearly believing Kentavious to be a mentally ill man off the street. “We can take you down to the kitchen and get you something to eat.”
“SILENCE!” Kentavious bellowed. “Do you not believe my power? I am God’s chosen! I am the Pope!”
Now the priest seemed a little annoyed. “Actually, I’m the one who has been called by God. You are most certainly not the Pope.”
Kentavious pointed his staff into the throng of worshipers. “Rescind your comments, pretender, or you will witness with your own eyes the power that God has granted to me.”
“Can somebody get this guy out of here?” asked the priest, looking for an usher.
“I warned you,” Kentavious snarled. His ferula still pointed out towards the crowd, he unleashed a bright-blue bolt of lightning from it, striking and killing an old woman sitting in the first row of pews. This set off a panic, and people in the church began to scramble to escape before they, too, were zapped.
“Kentavious citat Papa in virtute dei, ut visitet iniquitatem indigni!” he yelled, continuing to unleash lightning strikes into the backs of fleeing churchgoers. The priest stood alongside, helplessly babbling Latin prayers to impel God to stop the violence.
Kentavious now turned back to the priest. “God hears your prayers but does nothing!” he mocked. “He has chosen me for His holy quest, and your kind will no longer stand in my path!” Slamming the base of his staff on the ground, a lightning bolt came down from the cloudless sky, through the roof of the cathedral, and struck the priest right on the top of the head. As the priest’s hair and vestment smoldered, a furious wind began to blow through the room.
“Ventis, et terram et ignem, ego præcipio tibi, et devoraverunt terram, et congregabo eos et deleam haec profanum amentibus!” Kentavious yelled as pews and bibles flew through the air around him. He resumed his holy smiting, electrocuting those people who had not already been knocked down by the ferocious wind. People stumbled over the countless bodies as they attempted their fruitless escape.
Then, a deep rumbling came from the earth below, and a large chasm opened up right down the center of the sanctuary. As Kentavious watched, the living and the dead alike were thrown into the gaping abyss. The very flames of hell spurted forth from the pit, setting ablaze the wooden beams in the rafters.
Escaping through a side exit, Kentavious felt the Godly power surge through him. Looking back at the burning cathedral and hearing the tortured screams of the damned, he knew that his righteous cleansing had only just begun.