*Bang!!*
The heavy wooden doors slammed hard against the wall. Someone had opened the door with such force and abandon that it did not seem like the behaviour of a pious person who would come to church at this time of night.
"What's the matter, son? Why are you in such a hurry?"
Father Augusto Blann asked in a soft, kind voice. This year he would have been working for 40 years in this desolate church in Mifflinburg, western Pennsylvania.
"Your sins torment you so much that you can no longer bear their weight on your shoulders."
The priest received no answer, so he turned slowly, his old, tired hands holding the long match he used to light the dozens of candles that illuminated the enormous main cross in the temple.
"Was it my imagination? I swear I heard footsteps."
Augusto blew gently on the match and extinguished it, his steps clear as he walked to close the main door.
The cold wind was not good for his old bones. This year he would turn 75 and could retire from being a priest.
"It's a shame we have to close, isn't it, old friend?"
The old church had been open for more than 400 years, but without relics or exquisite works of art, it was just an old building falling apart. Father Blann would be the last to serve before its closure. Without a congregation or a prosperous town, that was its fate.
With a final sigh of exhaustion, Blann closed the heavy doors.
"That sound? Voices?"
Despite his advanced age, Blann prided himself on his keen sense of hearing, and whispering voices caught his attention.
(So, if there was someone there, perhaps it was a parishioner who was embarrassed to be seen).
The priest adjusted his purple stole, a long, narrow strip of fabric hanging over Blann's neck and shoulders.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of. I will hear your sins and give you absolution."
Blann walked to the wooden confessional, already able to hear the heavy breathing of the other person hidden behind the curtain.
"I'm sorry, Father!"
"You don't have to apologise to me, son, it's to our Lord... cough!!!*
Blann could feel the cold steel blade cutting through his insides, the iron taste of his blood flooding his tongue and palate.
Cindy felt her hands tremble as the small two-dollar knife fell to the floor.
"Well done, Cindy. Now, old man, where are the cups?"
"Cups?"
The priest sat on the floor, struggling to keep the blood from flowing out of his veins.
Now the least of his concerns was answering the question posed by that young man with dyed red hair and tacky accessories.
"Damn, the cups they use when they give wine to all those bloody sheep!"
"Ha! The communion cups under two forms... bread and wine!"
"Exactly!!!"
Jonny, the lazy bum with no job and no future, didn't have much patience, and the look on the old man's face, who seemed to have no fear of death, irritated him too much. And when you irritate this kind of idiot, he responds with violence.
"Arggg!!!"
Father Blann began to scream in pain as Jonny started dragging his body, pulling him by his hair. The priest kicked his legs in an attempt to resist, but his old black shoes only slipped on the floor of the old church.
"If you don't tell me, you'll show me."
"Stop, you're hurting him!"
Cindy implored in tears.
"How funny you are. I think the hole you made in his guts hurts him more."
Jonny dragged the old priest to the back of the church, a small room with unpainted walls, lit by candles that gave off a smell of animal fat.
"What's that smell?"
Cindy covered her nose, the smell of burnt animal fat making her feel nauseous.
"My friend likes... the oil from the bait candles... it hurts!"
The father's face contorted as he was thrown to the floor.
"Stop talking nonsense and tell me where the bloody chalices are. They're gold, aren't they? Cindy told me you use them in your morning mass."
"You mean those chalices? I sold them a long time ago to keep this church open a little longer..."
Blann sat on his thin bed, the wires inside hurting his back when he slept, but from today onwards he would have to worry about that.
"You've got to be kidding me, hey, bitch, when was the last time you saw them?"
Jonny felt the vein in his forehead about to burst. They had driven for hours to this old village, spending what little money they had left in their pockets on petrol for this "simple and well-paid robbery". An old priest in a dilapidated church was a piece of cake, or at least that's what his girlfriend had led him to believe.
Jonny grabbed Cindy by the collar of her shirt and pulled her violently towards him.
"About five years ago, when I came with my mother... Arghh!"
Cindy let out a cry of pain as Jonny's hand, adorned with cheap copper rings, slammed into her face.
Cindy's blood began to drip onto the floor from her broken lip, seeping through the carpet and onto the stone floor.
*Slap!*
"I should have left you where I found you with Mateo and his men, at least I would have made some money selling your body."
"NO, no, no!!!!"
"I'll do whatever you want, but don't leave me!!!"
Cindy knelt on the floor and clutched Jonny's clothes as tears streamed from her eyes. Mateo and his gang ran a brothel full of ugly girls. For a couple of dollars, you could do whatever you wanted with them. They were treated worse than a dying dog that nobody wanted.
"Then kill the old man. Show me your loyalty, and maybe I'll use you a little longer."
Cindy didn't even hesitate. She picked up a heavy Bible with metal corners from the shelf.
"I forgive you, daughter... Arghh!"
Father Augusto Blann couldn't finish his words when the metal tip crushed his skull and damaged his brain. One strong blow was enough to extinguish the light in his eyes, but Cindy didn't stop there.
*Bam* *Bam* *Bam*
Each time the Bible struck his flesh, Father Blann's face became more and more unrecognisable. It didn't take much effort to damage his fragile body.
(This bitch is crazy!!!)
Jonny backed up until his back hit the doorframe. The sight of Cindy murdering the priest under the light of a few candles in that small room far from the village disturbed him greatly. He had never done such a thing before, taking a life. Jonny was a complete coward.
That was the reason he had driven there alone with only a rumour of some gold cups instead of robbing a fast food restaurant as his friends had recommended.
More and more blood gathered in the grooves carved into the stone floor, line after line, curve after curve. Soon, the stone relief of a head with hundreds of snakes instead of hair took shape completely. Medusa's gaze was that of a woman afflicted and martyred by a cruel curse.
"Ready, Jonny... Eh?"
Cindy turned to look at her boyfriend and all she saw was his back as he rushed to his car.
Then she looked at her hands, not a drop of blood remained on them, the blood flowed as if it had a will of its own onto the floor.
Still not understanding what was happening, Cindy pushed aside the carpet with her shoe, letting her eyes be surprised by the ancient petroglyph.
*Crack!!!*
Suddenly, the circular stone slab that served as the floor of the priest's room split perfectly in half, and the boundless darkness and emptiness behind it swallowed the nineteen-year-old girl in an instant.
"Cindy, darling, have you seen my keys around here by any chance..."
Jonny returned with his tail between his legs and a more pleasant tone of voice after failing to start his car.
"Shit... *spitting blood*!!!"
A long, thick insect leg emerged from the darkness so quickly and sharply that Jonny could barely say a word after being pierced through the head.
The hundreds of hairs growing from the leg seemed as hard as steel and as sharp as the finest needles.
His body shook uncontrollably as he was lifted off the ground. The creature seemed in no hurry and gently pulled Jonny into the darkness of its hole.
- Ten minutes later -
*Crack!!!*
The white slabs of the church creaked and kicked up dust in the enclosure as they were broken one by one and the pieces thrown far away.
A hand wearing an exquisite white glove and silver armour emerged from the newly made hole, followed by a head of golden hair.
"Haaa, finally some fresh air ~."
William pulled his whole body out of the underground tunnel, the dust and cobwebs just sliding off his clothes.
The man took a seat on the long wooden benches. Although the smell of blood in the place bothered him, he didn't want to move for the moment.