・ church

@❛ ✧ : nanami kento. It was a grave mistake, however an innocent one. For the pages of the book this priest dared to explore bore archaic symbols that held no meaning in this new day—its language nearly forgotten, its history erased. Truly, his curiosity was excusable; his ignorance inexorable. But it was indeed his foolish innocence that summoned a creature from a world that existed beyond what he understood, that now resided in the shadows untouched by the light of his candle and the glow of the moon.

Amid darkness that creature watched. Deliberating. Calculating. It, too, held a curiosity for the unknown. In the middle of the room stood a being, undeniably human, whose mortality glowed a brighter color than the familiar, ordinary hue of the victims it slaughtered before. A holy man, that creature deduced, one that God blessed and valued above many—a fact that enticed it to step away from the shadows and reveal itself to its prey.

However, this creature was as playful as it was wicked, who enjoyed toying with its food before feeding. It was a predator above all else, immoral and vile, that enjoyed the divine taste of fear yielded by a chase.

The first draw of blood was a warning, like thunder preceding a calming storm. The lightning that followed were flashes of pale blue light that jumped from within one corner of the chapel to the other. A pause. Then, several, faint footsteps echoed from the other side of the room, cacophonous in comparison to the otherwise quiet of the holy building. Another flash of blue, and then, a stillness. Not a sound could be heard for the length of two heartbeats. Three… Four… Five. Suddenly, a sinister giggle that sounded like it came from two voices—one higher pitched, like a woman’s, and one inhuman, resembling the diabolical laugh of a hyena.

A hot breath emanated behind the priest’s neck, before those two voices spoke in a sweet, seductive tone. “What do we have here?” Then, the sound of cloth ripping from behind, slow and painstaking as that creature laughed cruelly before disappearing once more, sinking into the shadows.

@❛ ✧ : ahri. It was an accident. A sacred enchantment he should've known better than to innocently mumble into fruition. It was an old book without labels or scriptures, only thick layers of dust and a handful of symbols and syllables worn from years of unuse. He couldn’t have recognized its danger outside of the odd aura admitting from its pages and bound casing. He assumed there would be no harm. Hundreds of books littered the church's archives, most forgotten and perhaps destined never to be seen or touched again. So when he muttered what he managed to make out under his breath, with little confidence but no heeded concern, he could not prepare for the consequences of his ignorance.

The world fell to an immediate standstill. The wind that bellowed outside was silenced. Not a creak or breath could be heard outside of his uneven inhales. Seconds passed. Then minutes. There was a moment of reprieve. Of believing the shudder up his spine was no more than a chill. But before he could drop tensed shoulders, an unseen force slashed a wound across his palm, leaving the blood to trickle onto tea-colored pages. He gripped his wrist in pain as the book in one hand and candle in the other collided with the floor, snuffing out his only light source.

Amid darkness came no forewarning save for the second shiver that crept up his spine. Nerves stood on end as his muscles flexed under the promise of a threat. What had he done?