October 15th, 2007

Dark Dreams

Communion - Part Two

Author: sanguinepen
Word Count: 686
Rating: NC 17
Prompt: Terror #76 - 53/100
joss100

Continued from HERE

The grass in the cemetery was covered with dew, making the hem of my pants wet as Father Butcher and I walked quickly across it. He was dressed now in his normal frock, same as I was. To anyone looking we’d just be a pair of priests out for a stroll through a graveyard, long as they didn’t really pay attention to it being the middle of the night.

“Where are we going,” he asked me. He was panting, his eyes filled with the blackness that only a gift of the First could bring. His face was covered in more sweat now than it had been when he’d been raping that poor little boy. It really was a kindness to him that I’d told Butcher to kill him. It would be better than eons of therapy bills after all.

“We’re goin’ to see your surprise. You’ll like it trust me. You do trust me don’t you father?” I gave him another big grin. I really would have rather split his guts in the middle of his church than to be talking to him at all. I hate people who hurt children. Be a man, hurt someone who can fight back, don’t prey on little kids.

Now I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, but Caleb you killed those novices in their sleep. Yes I did, but I did it for a good cause. The First needed a sacrifice, and where else was I going to find that many innocent girls in a cesspool like Los Angeles? It wasn’t as if I could go to a local high school. And for all I did to them, they were still virgins when they went to their dear and fluffy lord.

I pushed open the doors of the biggest mausoleum in the place with my elbow, giving Butcher enough room to get inside. He was wearing a discarded pair of my shoes now. The same pair I’d worn to the warehouse where I’d killed that whore and her john. I’d watched enough episodes of Forensic Files to know how to cover my ass.

Then there was the help the First was giving me too. In the back of the crypt, tied up, gagged with duct tape was Brian Milton. Bet you thought I was going to make him a Bringer…Well I can’t. Boy’s innocent. Can’t make a bringer out of an innocent.

Beside Brian was the First, wearing Father Butcher’s face. The boy’s eyes were glazed from the drugs I’d slipped him when I’d had him in the trunk of my car. He stared at both Father Butchers a lot more than he looked at me. The First and the father both kept talking to him while I took a piece of the duct tape and offered it to the Priest.

“Here, touch this and then put it over the boy’s mouth. Be sure to get some of your hair in the tape too.” He was a good boy, the padre. Did just what he was told. Might even have hurt him a little bit when the tape yanked out some of his hair. “Now take some of his hair too.”

“That’s it. Yank out a good chunk,” I patted Father Butcher on the back as he took a handful of Brian’s hair out by the roots. “Now rub some of that on the inside of your pants. Good boy. I’m goin’ to have to get you a cookie for bein’ such a good boy.”

“Is he mine?” Butcher asked. I could see the lust in his eyes echoed a bit south of the border if you know what I mean.

“No, not yet. You have to go back to your church now. Do what you do best. Handle your flock. Be a good man of the cloth. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on little Brian for you.” Right up until I told the caretaker of the cemetery to look for the boy in the crypt and made the little man a hero when he rescued Brian Milton from the horrible serial killer who’d done his family in.