The HORROR RIP

The mirror showed a reflection that was not story🤫mine. Showed my lonely rooms at the back of the cold church. It shstoryowed Albie Duncan and his daughter Lucy standing behind me. Albie has been a member of my flock for as long as I can remember when Lucy was born. That was 19 years ago. It was always a pleasure to see them. Lucy smiled at me in the mirror. "Hello, Father Morris," she says.



The mirror showed a reflection that was not story🤫mine. Showed my lonely rooms at the back of the cold church. It shstoryowed Albie Duncan and his daughter Lucy standing behind me. Albie has been a member of my flock for as long as I can remember when Lucy was born. That was 19 years ago. It was always a pleasure to see them. Lucy smiled at me in the mirror. "Hello, Father Morris," she says.

I finish brushing my teeth, dry off, and greet her with a hug. “Hello to you, Lucy. I see you brought a back-up.

Albie smiles tightly. "A father always protects," he says. "And under the circumstances I hope you will understand."

“It's okay, Albie. I would emphasize the second person, whoever it is.

He rubs his wrist, not knowing he's doing it. Understandable. I turned my gaze to Lucy. Desire begins to arise. Hard to hide, hard to control late. It took significant willpower not to take her now.

"Shall we?" I say, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice.

Lucy looks on in horror. Like her father, she has been here before. She knew what was coming. She puts on a brave face and nods.

"Make yourself comfortable," I say. "If you want to prepare, everything is ready for you. I'll just pop the kettle. A nice sweet tea later does wonders.

Albie joins me as I sort out the teapot and turn on the kettle. He is always concerned about his daughter. "Would you be gentle, father?"

I see Lucy sitting at my desk. She is already tying a rubber tube to her hand. I return to Albi. "As much as I can," I say. His face, which was already old and tired, was losing color. I see the wheels turning. I know what he means.

"Couldn't you do me instead?"

"Not again. Not so soon."

I feel his pain; His will to protect his child. I wish I could ship them both so they don't have to do it, but I need it. Desire sings louder than my best angels.

"I'm ready, Dad," Lucy says.

Albie nodded and dropped his head. I took his hand to reassure him. "Stay close," I say.

Lucy opens and closes her fist as I sit across from her. At last I can see the scars on her arm; Cured, but permanent. She taps her wrist. Her nerves are on the rise. I can hear the blood coursing through them. Sweet honey. Feeling soft, warm skin, I hold her hand. I can't control myself anymore.

I get down on my knees.

My teeth are gapping.

I penetrated her wrist.

The gray world I live in becomes colorful. She shines like a colorful X-ray. I can see her heart beating. Her blood coursing through me was like a warm sauna after a cold swim. My senses are sharpened. The damp church office, the tea brewing in the pot, Albie's body odor, Lucy's perfume...I can smell her sex.

"That's enough dad."

Albie. The voice is distant. I reject it. I will finish my feeder and take his daughter for my pleasure.

"That is enough!"

Albie pulls my head back. I'm pulled out of his daughter's arms, splattering blood all over her. He pushed me to the floor and went in, wrapping his wrists in a towel, to help Lucy. I look at him with the eyes of a predator. At this point I can easily kill them both. This is the hardest part. I must remind myself that I am a man of faith, and that the faith and kindness of these good men keep the devil at bay and allow me to live.

"Dad?" Lucy says.

They both watch me intently, Lucy; Worry, Albie; Security.

I nod. The monster is contained. "Are you all right, Lucy?"

A weak smile. "I'll be fine."

I see Albie. "I'm sorry, Father," he says. “I have no choice. You didn't stop."

"It's getting really hard. I'm glad you're here. Bring Lucy and have that cup of tea. It'll help."

“Sure thing. One for you?”

I shake my head. All I can taste is Lucy's blood, but I keep it to myself.

Albie throws me a clean towel. "You might want to clean yourself up. It's not good to see a priest with all that blood.

I do what I can for an unreflective man, and then join them at the table. Albie nods against my neck and touches his throat. "Just missed!"

I loosened my collar. A pure white blood stain. I consider that for a moment - a metaphor for my situation.

"Are you okay dad?" Albie says.

"A shepherd should protect his flock, not the other way around."

Albie nods. He understands my situation.

Lucy took a sip of her tea and asked, "Can I ask a question, Dad?"

I'm glad to be distracted from my thoughts. "It: How do I shave?"

Both laugh.

"The electric shaver. And hope." I say. "Is that really your question, Lucy?"

She shakes her head. “I was thinking about crosses. As…”

“Vampire? You can tell. There's no point pretending I'm anything else.

"As a ... vampire, how are you around these crosses?"

She toys with her own, shiny silver hanging around her neck. I wiggle my fingers. "I'm asking all the hard questions today, Lucy."

I wonder how to respond: to give the friendly confidence-affirming answer they're looking for, or to give the truth. They deserve the truth. This is what I can do instead of what they give me.

"Don't believe what you see in movies and read in books—" I say.

She smiles happily in response.

"-the answer I usually give, but that's nonsense. To tell the truth, these icons that we wear, or decorate our churches, are mere metaphors, meaningless, so far from what they represent. Copies of copies of copies, like the Mona Lisa; everyone says they've seen the Mona Lisa, but how many really? Are there people? In the flesh, so to speak, in the Louvre, admiring the brushwork up close? Maybe the original cross on which Jesus was crucified had some power. We'll never know. Today you put a 'recumbent Jesus' on your car dashboard and still expect it to have some power over me!

I see them both trembling. Albie, instinctively, moves closer to her daughter. I realize that I almost got out of my chair. I back off and move to a less threatening position.

"Sorry," I say. “These are the thoughts I live with in dark, lonely times. "Being an undead priest shakes one's faith." My tight smile did not comfort them. Lucy looks sad. I pat my chest. She understands and toys with her cross again. "Its power," I say, "lies in your belief. Like faith, it exists because you believe in it."

She nodded. "Thanks, Dad."

Albie rubbed her back. “Thanks for being honest, Dad. It would be easy to listen to empty talk, but you've given us something to think about.

"I should have saved that for today's sermon," I say, and after checking the watch, "Speaking of which, I believe the rest of my flock should come. Are you staying or going home to rest and recover?"

Albie looks at his daughter. She wiggles the fingers of her pierced hand. "I'll be fine," she says. "Let's stay here with what Father Morris has for us."

"Then I suggest you take your seats. I'll need a few minutes to freshen up and get a new one of these. I shake the bloody collar. "Then I'm ready for the show."

***

The church is packed as always. I couldn't help but smile at my assembled flock. I nod to Albie and Lucy and then begin.

"Today I want to talk about the kindness of strangers."

A humorous shout from the crowd.

"Yes, again." I say, laughing. “You know, or if it's clear from her hand, it's Lucy Duncan's... day of giving. It fills my heart with joy - indeed - you all give yourselves so freely to sustain my strength. Not a day goes by that I don't thank strangers for their kindness. And, yes, none of you are strangers to me now, but you once were, and still you came. I often live in dark realities these days. I have struggled with my faith ever since I was assaulted… and I am what I am now. Your kindness always brings me back to that time.

Before you all arrive I unleashed some truth on Albie and Lucy. I apologized, but they seemed to appreciate my honesty, which was hard to hear. In light of that, I'd like to reopen for you. To share one of the thoughts that have been lurking in my mind. Thinking about kindness.

I understand who/what I am now and accept that when I stand at the gates of heaven, I will not be allowed to enter. Honestly, I doubt I'll come close. But still. You all do. Because you are all kind and generous. Although your kindness and generosity have helped me, I know you are simply feeding a monster. My last good deed as a man of faith was to escort you to heaven's gate and watch you pass.

I couldn't have done it without the kindness of strangers.

When everyone leaves I return to my lonely room, my thoughts. Although my preaching was sincere and heartfelt, I could not tell them the whole truth. If there are such things, they will reach the threshold of heaven, but it will be in my hands rather than in my guidance. I know the urge is getting stronger and harder to control. It's only a matter of time before I can come back from a feed and the result, dare I say it of biblical proportions, will be a bloody one. I will stand among their bloody bodies, God among men, and my punishment will be just.

by Indhumathi.