Trying To Hear The Word

It was dark and red, a smoldering place of unimaginable things, distorted and growing, looking like monsters under the floor. Would this be the permanent location my soul would take if I did not believe what I was told? I thought sitting on the bench surrounded by the others who acted so reverently.

Wrath was on the face of the speaker who had lots of hair sticking out of his long  nose, a chin with numerous warts and a contorted mouth and shrill voice that rang from the alter. Dark rings surrounded each eye as they moved separately in reptilian nature, looking at the pagan symbols on the ceiling and walls without moving his head.

A leprous thing he was, defiantly using the word, but instead made it sound more unintelligible. I almost broke out in laughter, but was cognizant of how inhibited I needed to be, encircled by all the believers who took everything far too seriously. It was difficult to articulate this, I thought, as i looked up at all the eyes glaring down at my snickers while desperately trying to be inconspicuous,  even though I had just turned one and was quietly sitting on my stool.