Pastor John sat in the study of his Chapel contemplating his faith.
A muffled, "Father?" came after a knock at the door, but John was too distracted to answer. Then another call. Finally, after the third attempt with no response his aide Stefan entered the study,
"Stefan! I thought I told you to always knock!" John finally took his head out of the scribbled pages.
"I - I did, sir... you did not respond..." Stefan stuttered.
John caught his anger before it rose. The day was hectic as is, no need to get the child involved any further. "I'm sorry, Stefan. I am currently in deep contemplation. We will work on the sermon tomorrow."
Stefan bit his lip, swallowed, then spoke uncharacteristically loud. "I don't think you should take Madam Leshlow's words to heart!"
Pastor John raised an amused eyebrow at the boy's uncharacteristic tone. "Oh?"
"She... was grieving..." Stefan visibly tried to calm himself. "Granted, she shouldn't speak in front of the entire community like that. But her hateful words were based on love!"
John nearly chuckled. Poor, naive, innocent Stefan. He was right, of course, yet there was so much he did not know. "It was not befitting of a woman of her stature to act so... callously, don't you think, Stefan?"
The boy actually bristled, what was going on here? This was so uncharacteristic of the lad. Was he bedding Madam Leshlow? That would have to be addressed if true.
"I is," Stefan bowed his head. "But I ask you forgive her. And not bother yourself with her outlandish claims." He shivered. "What she said about you stealing her husband's corpse... that was unseemly, yes. But so outlandish you can't be bearing it on your heart! Even if it was in front of everyone."
Poor, naive, Stefan. "I see." Pastor John made a show of contemplating his aides words. "I will think upon what you've imposed here, Stefan. I ask now that you leave me to my thinking. Thank you... for trying to soothe my emotions."
The aide, satisfied with the answer, bowed and left.
Pastor John returned to his scribbled pages, Stefan's interruption already forgotten. He was questioning his faith. Would the Lord really require such a poultry sacrifice? Why would he guide John so?
The pastor went to his book shelf, took out a particularly old tome, then returned it but upside down. The shelf slid open to reveal a dark corridor with steps heading down. Lit by torchlight, Jon descended.
A pentagram door awaited him at the base of the stairs. He palmed the door at one of the carved edges, his blood seeping into the stone and granting him access. He entered the circular chamber with doubt in his heart. Doubt he was sure would be disproven.
Pastor John went to the altar where Madam Leshlow's husband's corpse lay untouched. The pastor took up a scalper and started carving the body open. He had to see for himself.
The heart was indeed smaller than the diagram suggested, yet the lungs were the appropriate size... Only one way to find out.
He took out the heart and went to the brazier in front of the mural of his Lord Below. John felt his heart threaten to jump out of his chest. With trembling hands, he placed the heart on the fairy surface - and saw, blue. Glorious blue flames!
He threw up his hands and cackled. Yes! The Lord would never lead him awry! He was a fool! A fool to have doubted him!
He must act. Must set things in motion! Pastor John pulled on the chain that summoned Veronica. She arose from one of the coffins at the end of the massive chamber. Bloodshot, pale, and nightmarish, she slowly approached her master.
"Is it time then?" Veronica asked in her monotone voice.
"Yes! We are to proceed as planned!" Pastor John rubbed his hands with glee.
"And the sacrifice?"
This had to be handled with tact. Veronica was fond of the boy. She must not turn on her master, but you never knew with these creatures. Tact.
"I am sorry, Veronica. It has to be Stefan..." At the slightest twitch of her eyebrow, John held up his hands as if stifle an incoming blow. "I have it on good authority that he has been having a dalliance with the recently widowed Madam Leshlow."
That was total conjecture but it worked. Veronica visibly shivered and shook her head. "I understand. I... I shall fetch him."
And like that, Veronica vanished into one of the many wall slits. She would appear as a creature of her choice to poor, innocent Stefan.
Pastor John would miss the boy, but he must make sacrifices.
For the good of the flock.
This is the first draft of the story. Written by Jovan Gjorgjiev, ©️ 2023.
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