"Love!" A grey-haired priest stood behind a podium, a cross set behind them on a church wall.
"Love is a wondrous thing! As beautiful as it is, it could be just as insidious." His olive-colored skin glistened in the sunlight as it beat against his sweat-covered brow, batting away the little beads with a white cloth embroidered with a cross stitched into the velvet.
"Love can bring us such euphoria, yet it can just as easily sweep us from under our feet! Lead us astray! But sometimes love can bring us blessings... lead us on the straight and narrow-- a path of growth and self-discovery. Amazing example," He chuckled, gesturing to the church that surrounded them. "A love for God could bring about such positive upbringings, yet it can be just as nefarious, something burning at the soul, an obsession mistaken for love. Love can be just as much a negative as a positive."
A beat.
"You're probably wondering where I'm going with this, but the reason why I speak of this topic today is simply due in part to the fact that recently such a person had approached me recently regarding this topic-- Not to worry by the way, it wasn't in confession, it was simply a conversation that was approved between me and the young man themselves to speak about today with you all but they came to me with their worries. Love that borders on obsession..."
The older man paused, scanning the pews of the church, a half smile lingering on his lips.
"Some may say that there could be an overlap between the terms. Love and obsession, where is the line? Some may just be obsessed simply by the perception they may hold over a person."
The sermon persisted as the priest spoke about love, a young woman who was exceptionally small for her stature, with tossed around, parted black hair that reached her shoulders, her olive-colored skin, similar to the priest's, spotted with freckles, her cat-like hazel eyes stared out from the dark of the church before leaving, pushing past the double doors, back to the outside.
From her back pocket came a black sports cap that she tightened around her head, sitting at the church's step patiently. Her full lips pursed, resting her head onto her hand, a small huff leaving her nose.
After the service ended, the priest stopped in their tracks as a flood of people scrambled out from the church's halls. He was stopped for a moment, speaking in whispered tones with a woman before turning his attention to the downcast young woman at their steps.
The young woman noticed the grey-haired priest, looking over her shoulder as he sat next to her, a smile on his face. "Ms. Garra?"
She looked him in the eyes, hesitating for a moment. "Father Bishop..."
"Why have you visited today? The last I've seen of you was when you first became an adult." Bishop chuckled, "Have you come to pray?"
"No... I've come for advice."
"Yes, that girl they found, she was your friend, wasn't she?"
"At this point, it feels as if this town is cursed." This woman Bishop referred to as Garra stood up above him, a look of frustration knitted into her brow. "Before my sister, it was Carol Markes! Now, ten years later, it's a friend of mine!? Ten-year gaps, the lot of them, what--?"
Bishop sighed, the woman resting both hands behind her head as she watched the churchgoers enter their cars, and the police surrounded the other end of the road leading down into the forest beyond.
"There is something wrong with this place!"
"Or it could be simply a horrid coincidence. There is so much we don't know-- the police don't say anything about the method. For all we know, these are all just unfortunate circumstances."
"People go missing almost every month, Father."
"And there is nothing I can do but pray for their lives. I'm no cop. I leave that to the professionals." Bishop chuckled grimly. "I wish I could assist, but all I have is words... advice."
"Also, Father, you don't need to call me by my maiden name; you can call me by my normal name. You're practically my actual Father after all." She stared out into the forest beyond, observing as police entered and left what looked to be a crime scene.
"Carmen..." Bishop paused, "All I have is my word."
Carmen, the girl, watched for a moment, hands in her jeans. "Apparently, they got a Special Investigator this time to look into the crime. Maybe the police saw the same pattern I did... or... I don't know." A beat: "El Padre, el Hijo y el Espíritu Santo." She crossed herself, taking a step back from where she stood before sighing.
Bishop watched Carmen for a moment, "Do you plan on looking into it? You can't do something like that, Car--"
"I'm not..." She sighed.
Bishop threw his arms open, angling himself onto the steps of his church to prop up his back. "Should we pray?"
"I'm not gonna..."
"Then let's catch up, Carmen."
Carmen turned to look at the priest, eyes scanning him. "Catch up?"
"What have you been doing since the last time I saw you?"
"Fighting..." She paused. "I'm a fighter. The only thing I'm good at, so it's my career now."
"You've always been unnaturally strong." He chuckled. "Karate still?"
"No, MMA."
Bishop laughed. "You haven't killed anyone yet, have you?"
"I know how to control myself, Father." Carmen seemed frustrated by his comment, shaking her head, hair rolling across her shoulders with her head movements, almost whipping herself in the face.
Lifting the police tape above their head, a woman left the crime scene, hair a dirty blond, sapphire eyes sat behind rounded sunglasses, lanky and tall, with a black coat over their shoulders. They nursed what looked to be a cigarette, hands in their pocket as the cold air pricked at their face.
Carmen observed from afar. "They don't look like police... maybe the investigator everyone is talking about?"
Bishop shrugged. "I have been disconnected from the goings on in town for some time."
"The identity of the victim is a nineteen-year-old Andrea Castello." An officer approached the woman from behind, a clipboard in hand. "Didn't take a pathologist like you to take a break in a time like this."
"Didn't want to tamper with the scene." A puff of smoke sprayed out from her parted lips as she turned to the officer beside her, "I'm a smoker, after all."
"Okay..." The officer nodded slowly.
"You know of my history?"
"Uh... yeah."
"I used to be a pathologist, but I am not anymore." The woman took a bag from her coat pocket, throwing the cigarette inside before stuffing it back in. "Alright, I'll be doing the proper examination." She took out a notepad from her other pocket, re-entering the scene of the crime.
She spun around, approaching the crime scene, ducking under the police tape, and making her way to the scene of the crime. Down a hill, deeper into the town's forest, splayed out between a section of trees was a woman, hung up by ropes and branches not too far up into the air. A hexagon shape represented through her body, splayed, and sticks surrounding their back. The auburn-haired corpse had its head slumped on its shoulders, completely stripped nude.
"Gruesome shit." One of the officers commented.
The woman began sketching in her notepad, her sapphire eyes scanning the body, noting every contour and detail.
"We took some pictures, what's the point in this?"
The woman circled the sight, sketching it from various angles. "Send those to my motel. I want as many images as possible. The details are important."
"Weren't you a pathologist?"
"I'll be there for the autopsy as well."
The officer shrugged, "Okay."
"Any witnesses?"
"Yeah, older man. We have him in our custody at the moment as a potential suspect, and we're looking for anyone who may have been close to the girl..." He pointed to the sheriff, who seemed to have been in talks with a Forensic Analyst. "What's the name?"
"Andrea!"
"Yeah, Andrea... Castillo. We're looking into anyone who may have known her."
The investigator scanned the officer, "The witness, did you get a warrant to explore their properties?"
"Properties?"
The woman shrugged, "Just making an assumption, but..." She scanned the body again, "We should do that after a thorough search and examination of the body as well... maybe there..." The investigator scanned the body again. "We should look at that symbol..." She pointed, "Below the navel. We should give it a closer inspection."
"Th-- Oh shit, there is. What the hell...? How didn't we notice that before?"
"Small..." The investigator tapped the butt of her pen against her lower lip as she examined the body. "Well... we have something. At a first glance, though... it looks like cult activity in the region."
"No shit..." The officer chuckled.
"Allegra Caccia?" The investigator's thoughts were interrupted by the sheriff, a burly man with a thick, light-brown moustache resting atop their lips. "See anything fun?"
"Can't exactly say it's a pleasant sight, or remotely fun, but I have some theories. I have what I need." She pocketed her notebook, "Let's bag her up and head to the morgue."
"Alright! Everyone, gather up! Take it down!"
Allegra spun around, leaving the area of the crime scene. After a bit of walking, she reached the police tape, ducking beneath it and getting ready to head out back into this small town in California, back to her hotel in Bastion, California.
She is, however, stopped by Carmen. An officer instinctively moved to stop her, but Allegra stopped the man before Carmen could speak. "Do you know what happened to her?"
Allegra glanced at the cop, then back at the taller woman before her, who was about 6'3", compared to this 5'2" stocky girl who looked to be in their early twenties. "You're a friend of Andrea's?"
Carmen swiped a thumb against the underside of her nose before tucking some of her inky black hair behind her ear. "H-How bad is it?"
Allegra considered her words carefully, eyes searching for the words to say before sighing. "We're not sure yet. We've yet to perform an autopsy on the victim's body, but there is evidence of strangulation across the neck." Allegra pantomimed. "Any other injuries she may have suffered can only be confirmed at the morgue."
"There isn't a morgue."
"Hospital?"
"It's at the station." Carmen scratched the side of her head. "The morgue is with the police-- under the station... I think."
The officer, besides Allegra, nodded to her. Allegra nodded back, looking to the girl in front of her, "You don't want to come with me, do you?"
Carmen shook her head. "No... no, I'm alright."
"Okay."
The officer gave an incredulous look to Allegra, who simply moved on, leaving the murder site entirely on her own, disappearing into the other end of the forest. Carmen lingered for a moment, watching as the police slowly excavated the area. She turned around, looking over at Bishop, who was talking to what looked like a young teenage boy wearing all black. She crossed over, lingering a few meters away to eavesdrop on the conversation.
Bishop gestured to the young man. "Faith means nothing if I force you into the beliefs I hold. Does that make sense?" A beat, "You do not need to hold the same ideals that I have for you to believe. Some may hold a different faith than I do, a different belief, and for good reason. Everyone holds different opinions on something. I choose to believe in God, to think in Jesús Cristo because that is the belief I have. It is understandable to doubt the words of a book not even written by God, or God's Child himself, as they are just recollections collected by a few over the ages of history. I do not believe each word spoken within those pages as well. Still, I hold the belief that my faith, my understanding of the world, means something, that I can positively influence the world through my faith, and that means I have to accept the fact that not all may believe what I believe. Faith isn't just praising God; faith is belief. Faith is the will to go on. You do not need to believe in God to hold faith."
Bishop gave a light smack to the young man's shoulder before sending him off to the town just outside of the church's range.
Bishop's gaze locked onto Carmen, who stood behind a tree, propped up against the bole. "It's nice to see you are still here, Carmen."
Carmen scanned the stump of the tree for a moment, considering her following words before looking back to Bishop. "May I walk with you, Father?"
"Yes, you may. I must close up the church first. Are you willing to wait?"
Carmen nodded. "Yeah."
After some time had passed and they had made their way down the path back to town, Bishop began to speak once more. "You know... I believe that many have a misunderstanding of what it means to take God's name in vain."
"What do you mean?"
"I believe that to take God's name in vain is to use God's name for your own purposes aside from praising God, spreading their word amongst the many. Using God for your own purposes, for pure selfishness, I believe that is the very definition of taking a name in vain-- though... it is more respectful to use lighter terms rather than saying 'God damn' or 'Jesus Christ' all the time." Bishop chuckled, "But I find it frustrating when many have a problem with such speak when I do not believe that is taking a name in vain, in fact, more often than not, there are a lot of appropriate uses of saying their names in a lot of contexts, I believe." Bishop laughed.
"I see..."
"Fearing God too..." Bishop shook his head, "A ridiculous notion. I feel as if many have forgotten the teachings of Jesús Cristo, who is a proxy of God themselves. God made the human form. Is it not a love for the human experience that made God go so far to relate to us? To live with us through his son? In a way, they are separate entities-- the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, but..." Bishop shrugged, "You understand what I am saying?"
Carmen nodded. "I do."
"I believe God wanted us to receive our autonomy. God's plan is a mysterious thing, after all. There is no way for us to know why or what he does, but I believe it serves a purpose—the human experience, suffering, loving, celebrating, indulging in our sins. There is more to it all, I believe. Some see it in such a black and white manner, but..." Bishop sighed. "I just do not have an understanding as to why many blame God for the bad that happens to us."
Carmen just gave Bishop an incredulous look, not bothering to respond just yet.
"He provided us with our free will for a reason, no? Eve bit the apple, providing us the opportunity to make our own decisions, to have autonomy over ourselves. Why blame God for giving us that freedom? Relying so heavily on God is a fool's errand of sorts. Doesn't it defeat the purpose of having freedom over ourselves? The point is the human experience; the point is to live and die. Many seek the meaning of life, and that answer is not with God. For me, I found it through God..." Bishop pressed his lips together, "I hope I am making sense. I did not want to rant to you about my beliefs, but..." He shrugged.
"I don't mind. I like hearing you talk." Carmen paused. "You hold so much wisdom, I can't help but respect it. Absorb it. I like hearing it all-- hearing what you have to say."
"Well... thank you for listening ot this old priest's ramblings."
After a bit more walking and talking, Carmen and Bishop ended up at his apartment in town. He took a few steps up to the front door of the complex, looking back at Carmen with a smile on his face. Carmen sighed, "See ya, Marshall." And she turned to leave.
Marshall, or Marshall Bishop, laughed, watching as Carmen left him behind. "See you, Carmen!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Allegra snapped the hem of a glove onto her wrist, scanning the room for a moment before speaking up. "Let's begin the autopsy. Keep all of this recorded." She gestured to a coroner who was there on standby to assist, turning on a tape recorder that sat just below their hips in a tray. "Today's date, October 16th, 2017. Estimated time of death..." Allegra scanned the body for a moment, pressing her fingers lightly into the corpse's skin. "Perhaps... two months ago...?"
"Two months?"
"Yes, around two months before we found the body-- the body was preserved in some way. The body itself is unnaturally cold, slightly stiff in the arm muscles—evidence of ligature marks around the neck-- a sign of strangulation. Most likely the cause of death if it weren't for the blunt force trauma..." Allegra lifted the head, pointing to the nape of the victim's neck. "Discoloring like a bruise."
"We should probably look at any other signs to get a more exact date."
"Yes, but for now, we're going over what we can see at first glance." Allegra gestured in an almost circling motion. "Turn it."
After flipping the body, visible scars could be seen lining the victim's back. Allegra circled the body, removing what looked to be ritualistic bracelets from the wrists and ankles, placing them in a nearby tray before inspecting the wrists and ankles more closely.
"The bruising around the wrists isn't from what she was wearing but from rope. Contores in the skin--" Allegra pointed, and the coroner noted it down before Allegra began gliding her finger against the scars that were set into the victim's back. "Whipping most likely..." There was a moment of pause. "Self-flagellation."
"Wait, really?" The coroner crossed over to where Allegra was to observe her findings.
"Yes, it's too far up the back, plus the angle. It came from only two directions, and it would be the angles that only someone reaching behind their back could achieve. If it's from an outside source, there would be more scars that originate around the middle of the back, but instead the origin point was always around one end or the other..."
"More surprised you could discern something like that."
"Flip them."
Once again, flipped onto their back, front facing the table. Allegra then pointed to the symbol below the navel, too small to see from afar. It looked to be composed of various triangular shapes, the tips of which converged into a single circle drawn at the center of the shapes. "Note that down." Allegra scanned the body once more, sighing, "Let us go over some--" Before she could continue, a small, round object began pressing itself against the skin of the body just below the ribcage.
"Do you... See that?"
"I do..." Allegra took a step back, and the coroner followed, both of them creating some distance away from the corpse as the object pressed harder and harder against the skin. "That wasn't there before."
"Is it... forcing itself out... How...?"
A sickening crack of something piercing flesh could be heard as, for but a moment, a seed could be seen poking out of the body before blooming into vines and greenery that rapidly spread across the table and body.
Allegra pressed an arm against the coroner, situating herself between the source of the blooming greenery and the assistant themselves as it continued to spread, overtaking the table and stopping only an inch from the only two people in the room.
The coroner looked to Allegra, hoping for an answer, but instead of getting one, Allegra spun on the balls of their feet and left the room.
"What the hell could've happened here?" Officers called into the room and inspected the incident site. Some attempted to cut at the roots but failed, as they quickly regrew. "Shit... never thought I'd see something like this myself."
The coroner, at Allegra's side, a young woman with black curly hair and glasses, looked up to her, "Is this... one of those supernatural incidents I've heard so much about? I-I never would've thought I'd have seen anything like this before. What about you?"
Allegra glanced at the woman. "I suppose it's a first for me as well."
"Suppose?"
"I'm gonna smoke." Allegra took her leave, waving at the coroner before heading out from the back and out of the basement of the town's police station, resting her body on a nearby railing before placing one of those cigarettes of hers between her lips. It took a couple of clicks of the lighter to make it alight with a small, flickering flame. She pressed the fire up to the end of her cigarette, the end of it now emitting a faint orange glow as, with a flick of her arm, the flame on the lighter is dispersed.
"This has already gone far enough."
"I don't think so. We found something, a lead."
"Yes, it's similar. We shared similarities, but that doesn't mean you should pursue this. Lead your own life, show others that this is more than who you are. Do you know what others call you?"
"I don't care."
"Why not study the body, save lives like you wanted to when you were younger? Be the child that I remember you to be... maybe... maybe you'd be happier?"
"And what of what haunts me? What about you? Will you continue to oppose? Continue to tell me to take the coward's way out?" Allegra turned her gaze to the edge of the station, the vague silhouette of something there, engulfed by darkness, skin yellowed by jaundice, hung up as if nailed to the side of the building, as if hung up on a cross. "I will pursue this, if not for me, then for at least the victims that continue to follow."
The door opened to the station, the figure seemingly disappearing in a blink as Allegra calmly turned to see who had come to meet her outside.
A female officer with their light brown hair tied back into a ponytail sighed, holding the sides of the doorway, keeping an eye on Allegra. "It would probably be best if you made your way back home for now while we figure this situation out, okay?"
"Another stupendous knockout from the wolverine woman, Carmen Alora Garra!" Hair tied up in braids, a man is dropped to the floor with a single swipe to their chin. An early morning knockout the next day.
Carmen wiped the residual beads of sweat from the fight that had landed on her body, unbraiding her hair, letting her jet-black locks roll over her shoulders. An underground fighting ring, something that could only be described as the last vestiges of entertainment one would have in a small town like this, amongst more steadfast and brutish individuals who reside here.
"Apparently, they closed off parts of the station. Can't didn't allow me to see what remained of my grandma..." A passing comment made as she passed by, a cap fit against the contours of her head, a tracksuit over her shoulders, open in the middle, a sports bra underneath, and baggy basketball shorts from the waist down.
Carmen tilted her head towards the conversation, but decided to move on after she had already made a significant distance, back to her apartment.
The living room was neatly put together, with a thin layer of dust covering everything except the kitchen and bathroom. She crossed to her room, opening the door to reveal a cloth-laden bedroom, a complete pigsty by comparison.
Carmen sighed, throwing off her current clothes, leaving only her undergarments on, as she switched to something more appealing publicly, as she threw on a white t-shirt, jeans, and a khaki overcoat, keeping that black cap she always wears as she headed straight back outside after spraying herself thoroughly with some perfume sat within a cupboard right beside her bed.
Carmen left the scent of burning cinnamon behind as she made her way back outside, and out of habit and ritual, back to the church for prayer.
Just as she opened her complex's door, she was met by the sight of Allegra, propped up against a nearby brick fence. "You were friends with Andrea, yes?"
"What a... rude awakening?"
"You weren't sleeping anyway." Allegra spun around, fully facing the girl. "Could having known the girl be due in part to you being friends, or is that a delusion I made up in my head?"
Carmen sighed, visibly rolling her eyes as she stepped past the tall, lanky woman. "I only just knew her. We weren't close."
"You were interested for a different reason, though."
"It's not like I didn't care."
"Yes, but you were also focused on something different, and I think I know what it is."
Allegra was met by a soul-piercing glare from Carmen, who snapped at her heels to face Allegra head-on. "The fuck are you talking about?"
Both hands in the air, she backed up against the brick fence a bit more. "Calm down."
"What were you implying, chica? By sayin' what you said?"
"Your sister--"
"Don't actually--" Carmen snapped forward, covering Allegra's mouth, pressing her hard against one of the fence's corners, the hard, rigid edges digging into the skin on her back. "How the fu-- Where the fuck do you get off sayin' she like that, huh? J-Just... just sayin' shit at random, huh!? Enjuta perra!" Her hand slipped beneath Allegra's jaw, pushing her face up into the sky, easily overpowering the investigator.
"I lost people too... I lost just as much..." Allegra swallowed, "I didn't mean to offend... I just wanted to have a discussion."
"Yeah, we all have, fuck you. Does it justify just bringing someone's dead relative up outta nowhere like that? I don't fuckin' know you!"
Allegra's eyes soften, for only in her perspective does she see what looks like the child within Carmen lashing out in this moment, kept deep within herself. "I'm not your enemy..." Her words were spoken with care, her posture resting against the fence she was pressed against, whincing as its edge dug further into her back. "I... I'm just a desperate woman looking for others who can help me... others who have been affected by the same plague that continues to spread... an insidious force."
Carmen let up, pulling away from her. "Why are you here?"
"You knew Andrea, yes?"
"Oh, yeah..." Carmen sighed, scratching the back of her head. "Not really friends... more recognized the name since she went to the same school I went to when I was younger. I... I was surprised that she was. She was... I don't know..."
"You have more to say?"
"I don't know. I'm going to church."
Allegra didn't show much of a reaction, but didn't bother to pursue Carmen as she left for the forests surrounding the town.
Upon entering the church, it felt as if the energy had shifted. The doors swung open, Carmen stepping inside before crossing to the nearby pillars at the entrance, leaning out and looking past the pews, watching as Marshall approached the podium, his silver hair tied back in a ponytail, looking much more presentable than the day before.
An edge of Carmen's nose twitched, brows knitted tight as she leaned in for his sermon today. "I think to myself quite a lot about how emotions affect us. Should we let ourselves be controlled by these emotions!?" A beat, they take a step to the other end of the stage. "Should emotions control us?" He nodded to himself. "Were Jesus's emotions not what had taken control of him that day when he flipped the tables of tax collectors and the like, disrupting businesses, upturning control... may being controlled by emotions not necessarily always lead to bad results?" He shrugged. "Oftentimes, it should be controlled, I believe so, I always will, but maybe there is a need for... for us to be controlled..."
Carmen tilted her head to the side, confused, arms tightly crossed with one another.
"Why not have emotions control us if they can motivate us to take action against the forces of entropy? Those who oppress us, those who move to make us all lesser, to put us down and subservient to their rule. Businesses, corporations, and the government, which is supposed to take care of us, give us refuge."
After the sermon, he stayed behind to speak with anyone leaving, Carmen among the many, keeping her distance, simply observing Marshall's mannerisms.
Some time had passed until she finally found an opening to move in and speak with him, crossing across the front courtyard of the church and over to his side. "Yo, Marshall? What sort of rebel stick was stuck up your ass today, huh?" She shrugged, "Not as I mind, I'm just curious."
Marshall's brows rose at being addressed so informally, and he spun around to see who was speaking to him, confused. For a moment, he paused, almost as if struggling to recognise the figure before him as if they hadn't spoken yesterday, as if Carmen had not known this man ever since she was a teen.
"Marshall?"
He blinked, a smile slowly being pulled across his lips. "Ah! Alora, my apologies." He paused, "I suppose, being idle and not speaking the truth can only get me so far."
"Yeah..." Carmen tilted her head toward his voice, her pinched expression tightening even further. "A-Alora? You never call me that. Only people I don't know call me that."
Marshall sighed in disappointment at himself, tapping a finger on his head. "I-I'm sorry. After the sermon, I feel I mistook you for your sister for a moment because of my exhaustion and age. I guess I'm becoming a bit sentimental."
"Are you okay, Father?"
Marshall stood there for a moment, one eye going momentarily slack, causing Carmen to recoil visibly. "I'm feeling alright. Though I think I need to go home, I'm most assuredly pushing myself too hard. Two sermons in a row..." He chuckled, heading back into the church.
Carmen watched as he retreated into his holy sanctuary, noticing a small patch of stitched-up skin at the nape of his neck just below his lifted hair, which was tied into a ponytail presently still. "I don't remember him having that..." Carmen whispered to herself, rubbing her neck in sympathy, almost before turning away from the church itself. After taking a few steps away, she spun back around, seeing it towering over her now, surrounded by the town's forest.
The energy was different.
"When could he do that with his eye?" Carmen crossed back to the church entrance, opening the doors in search of Marshall. "Actually, Marshall, I wanted to talk to you about something!"
No response.
Carmen stepped further into the church itself, sifting past the pews, scanning the rest of the room before her, the best she could see before diverting to the left to a door that most likely led outside, before stopping halfway past the main stage area of the church.
"Marshall!?"
"Carmen!"
A beat before Carmen decided to respond. "Yeah, sorry, I wanted to talk a bit more! Is that fine?"
"Come to the confession booth! Confess your sins!" He laughed jokingly, "Or... listen to my own... it is of your choice."
"Okay!" Carmen spun around, heading over to the confession booth at the other end of the church before entering, sitting down on a bench inside, and closing the curtain behind her. "Okay..." Her eyes lock onto the vague shape of Marshall's body behind the screen separating them. "Why are you in here?"
"Just thinking to myself before closing up. Contemplating." She could hear a smile pull at his face.
"So... confessions, huh?"
"I have a story to tell."
"A story?"
"A poem. It's Ozymandias, have you ever heard of it?"
"The name... Why this poem?"
"It starts like this." He cleared his throat, "I met a traveller from an antique land, who said- 'Two vast and trunkless legs of stone stand in the desert... near them, on the sand, half sunk and a shattered visage lies, whose frown, and wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, tell that its sculptor well those passions read which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, the hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; And on the pedestal, these words appear:" Marshall paused, and in one, theatrical gesture, held his hand out behind the confession screen separating Carmen and himself.
Carmen leaned away almost instinctively, but continued listening to his speech.
Marshall took a deep breath, "My name is Ozymandias." Marshall's tone became scratchy and low. "King of Kings; Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!" Marshall screamed in rapture, disappearing from the confession screen's view.
Silence...
Now, just outside the booth Carmen is sitting in, Marshall spoke once more, continuing the poem. "Nothing beside remains. Round the decay of the colossal wreck, boundless and bare, the lone and level stands stretch far away." He whispered.
"Marshall?"
"AH!" He jumped out from the curtain, immediately met with a fist to the face by Carmen, sending the older man straight to the ground, cackling madly.
"Oh shit!" The hit was hard enough to leave the old priest's face bloody. "I'm sorry-- Dumbass! Why'd you scare me!"
He wouldn't stop laughing, clutching his gut as the laughter descended into a manic hysteria.
"M-Marshall!? Marshall, are you--" Carmen was legitimately concerned, aware of how hard she could punch. She crouched low to help him, forced to put both of her palms over her ears as it became ear-piercing from proximity. "Marshall!? What the fuck!?"
His laughing finally stopped, and he got up from lying on the floor. He sighed longingly, "Haven't laughed that hard in a long while!"
"Are you okay!? I can hit harder than a horse's kick, man! Are you good!?"
"Just a broken nose, not a biggie!"
"Not a biggie!?"
Next thing Carmen knew, she was waiting outside a hospital in town, sipping a hot chocolate from a thermos, wearing a pinched expression as she watched cars pass in colored blurs, the day going into the night by now.
"What the fuck, Marshall...?" She mumbled, pressing the lip of the thermos flask against her forehead. "Did the town get to him, too...? What could've happened from last night to now?"
"I was six years old when I lost my family." Carmen whipped her head around to whoever was talking to her, seeing the investigator she'd come to know through recent events. "You were eleven, weren't you?"
"God fuckin' damnit!" Carmen stood up from a bench she was sitting on, creating distance between herself and the investigator that seemed to be stalking her today. "Why are you here!?"
"I heard what happened."
"Look, he scared me half to death; he knew the consequences. I..." Carmen growled at the circumstances, whipping her head away from Allegra, staring back out to the road across from her.
"I shouldn't have lived." Allegra placed one of those medicinal cigarettes between her lips, lighting it.
An incredulous look came over Carmen. "Could you not smo--" She stopped what she was saying, however. "That doesn't... smell bad...?"
"It was a home invasion."
"Are you still talking about yourself?"
"I saw my family being slaughtered in front of me one by one by an unknown assailant, a random act of cruelty that went out of its way to make sure that there were absolutely no witnesses..." Allegra paused. "That included my infant sister and me. I clutched her tight, hoping, praying not be seen, but I discovered that day that prayers are a monkey's paw. Shot in the head, it was a miracle that I had managed to survive, and when I woke up, all it was was my worst nightmare manifest."
Carmen could do nothing but listen, watching this woman she hardly knows describe the worst moment of their life with an expression of cold calculation.
"What was the worst day of your life, like?"
"Just... suddenly sharing our trauma?" Carmen blinked rapidly, unsure of what to say next, before throwing her arms into the air. "Yeah, I was eleven. Jesus, how much do you know about me?" Carmen scoffed, "But yeah... it was a... I was winning a Karate competition, and suddenly, I was told on the same day that my older sister had been killed. There, so...? What now? Is there a point to this?"
"I want to help solve this, and I want you to be by my side to do it. There are a variety of reasons. One is because you're special, like me. An exception in a series of events across the US, just as I am an exception to these similar series of events. It didn't happen for a while, and now history is repeating itself. Ritualistic killings, and this... this town appears to have an exceptionally apparent pattern."
"What the hell could make me of use in an investigation like that?"
"You just have to be by my side, and you'll discover what I mean. How did your sister die?"
Carmen shook her head. "She was beaten to death by a group of people. Dunno who would've ever wanted to do her in like that..."
"A seed was planted into the body of Andrea Castello. It recently bloomed—a supernatural phenomenon. Records have been hidden—an insidious plot beneath the surface. You are powerful. And I know a lot more about this world than you could even believe. So we take the leads we take, and we pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, and we go... go and avenge those who have fallen... That's why I've come here: we're two exceptions to the whole, and I believe I can trust you... and that you can help me... I'm not infallible."
Carmen stared at Allegra for a moment, barely understanding the words spoken to her before letting out a long sigh, placing her head in her hands. "There's something wrong with our priest. Marshall... he's... odd today. I don't know, if you want me so bad, look into that first, please?"
Allegra nodded. "Okay."