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“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Jumping out from the bush, I shove the rosebud in my pocket and hold the dead branches in my hand, so I have an excuse for being out here. “Nobody is around. Why are you so worried?” Turning on the hose, I use the cold water to wash the blood and dirt off my arms. If luck is on my side, no one will even know what I’ve been up to.
“I heard Sister Anna calling your name. She’s going to find out.” I don’t know why, but Anna scares the daylights out of Daia. She won’t give me details, and every time I try to snoop, someone is always around. “Isabel!” Her sharp tone tells me I’m in trouble.
“Go.” I push the nun away, inside the back entrance. I’ve always done everything I could to protect her. She’s the only one here I can trust, and I’ll never put her in danger or in the line of fire the way I always seem to be.
“What are you doing out here?” Anna rounds the back corner of the church wall with a sneer on her face. The look is one I don’t like.
“I just wanted some fresh air.” I never elaborate. It’s how lies are caught. And as much as I hate it, I lie to the sisters often.
“You have a meeting.” She grasps my arm, pulling so hard, I stumble and drop the dead branches I was holding as I attempt to balance myself.
“You’re hurting me.” Her nails dig into my upper arm, and I know there will be bruises there later.
“Shut up. If you’d just do what you’re told, you wouldn’t be hurt so often.” Her clipped words as we enter the hallway leading to Father Cassio’s chambers have bile rising to my mouth.
“Where are we going?” I’m not allowed in this wing of the church. It’s one rule I’ve always followed. Something in my gut screamed that I must listen. Entering a room across from the door labelled office, I feel sicker. It’s small, and chains line the walls. “No!” I won’t be shackled. I won’t stay here.
Tugging on the grip holding me hostage, my feet drag as she pulls me farther into the room. Stronger than I ever would have thought, I stumble to my knees when she stops abruptly. “Stop being so dramatic, and do as you’re told for once, Isabel.” Shoving me face first into the ground, Sister Anna leaves without another word.
Scrambling to my feet, I rush to the door. The lock prevents me from opening it, and I whimper. Banging my fists against the heavy wood, I spin and look around for an escape. The walls are tall with only a single window near the vaulted ceiling. No trap doors, no way to climb up…I’m stuck. And until they open this door, I have to remain.
Dropping to the ground in the corner of the room behind the door, I let out a blood-curdling scream. Loud enough that I hear the birds lift off the rafters outside and see their shadows fly across the sunlit window.
I wish I had wings.
* * *
Pace
I fucking hate church.
I hate corrupt churches even more.
In a city dedicated to love and religion, there are too fucking many Godless houses of worship. On the outskirts of the city, Saint Joseph’s Basilica looms ominously in the otherwise light sky. From the dreary brick and mortar to the hollow windows, there is nothing welcoming about this hellhole. It screams evil, yet people are still drawn to it.
Walking up the steps to the imposing ornamental doors, I pull it open just as a high-pitched scream sets off a flurry of birds from the rooftop and surrounding trees into the clouds. It’s chilling, and if I were a man with fears, I’d turn the other way.
The doors expand into a large entryway, with a view of the central hub of the building. A pretentious alter sits above the rows of benches for the parishioners, and that’s where I see him. Father Cassio. I don’t know if that’s his first or last name—there isn’t nearly as much free information available about the man as I’d like, and the church isn’t one to be forthcoming. He’s speaking to another male, one who seems familiar but I’m unsure why, as a nun approaches them. She draws their attention to me by pointing my way as I lean against one of the back pews, arms crossed.
I came to intimidate today, and my attire reflects that. Dark-wash jeans with rips in the knees, rows of chains hanging from my front belt loop to my wallet in my back pocket, combat boots, and black muscle shirt highlight my equally dark tattoos. Especially given they cover nearly every inch of my body. The silver chain around my neck holds the pentagram of the devil, and the large rings on my fingers are hard to miss.
Right now, they’re likely surmising that I’m some ex-con, a lost soul, maybe a drifter looking for absolution. I’m none of those. I’m just a man hired to hit a church with a list of names.
But that scream…
Filled with anguish and fear. It’ll haunt me until I find the voice on the other end of it.
“Can I help you, son?” Father Cassio finally walks towards me as the nun escorts the other man away to a back hallway. My eyes stay with them until they’re out of sight. “Sir?”
“Pace,” I say, still not looking at him. “What was that scream?”
I know he’s going to lie to me before he opens his mouth. “It’s an old church, lots of odd sounds happen. They’re more pronounced when it’s empty.”
My austere eyes slide to take him in now. Lasering him with the same intensity as I feel, I call out his lie. “The church feels agony?”
I watch the way his throat works to swallow. “It hears the pain of my congregation, of the lost souls.”
Jesus Christ.“Straight-up terror, too, then. There’s fear in these old walls?” Walking past the old man, I don’t let him feed me anymore bullshit. “I thought you were supposed to tell the truth, Father Cassio. Your God frowns upon lying.”
