Chapter Text
The platinum blonde watched as smoke left his mouth, billowing and twisting with invisible currents in the air. His assistant cleared her throat and knocked three times before opening the thin door. It was that time of day that Kerran's schedule was read aloud to him, the remants of a nasty habit made by his precessor.
"Good morning, Father Kerran. I have your itinerary." Josie shuffled the paper in her thin hands, fingers too small for the gold wedding ring that clashed against her yellow undertoned skin and pastel blue nails.
Timothy 2:9
"You'll be meeting with Cardinal Bishop Zechariah Gomez, Father. Today at noon sharp at the cafe across the street from the train station. After that you must call the hospital so you can set up a time to bless the–" Kerran sighed and stopped listening, trying his best to fight back the yawn the clawing it's way up.
Cardinal Bishop Zechariah Gomez. That wasn't any one of them in his own church.
"What, um, what church is he from?" Kerran asked, looking over at the older woman who had brought him the update. She paused for a moment, hand inching up to hold the rosary around her neck.
"The Emeritus Church of Satan, Father."She paused, "Bishop Crew requested to speak with him before he passed, and Cardinal Bishop Gomez still wished to meet and converse."
Kerran groaned and rolled his eyes. Even months after Bishop Crews death, he was still catching up on all the promises the old man had made while he was alive. And that meant with meeting with strange individuals.
"What would Crew want with a Satanic Cardinal, Josie? You knew him more than anyone else."
Josie shrugged her shoulders, still clutching onto her amber rosary, "I'm not sure, Father, not even I understood the Bishop. He left many many things unanswered with his death, you know that. Im still finding notes he made to himself from six years ago tucked into the seat cushions."
Kerrans sigh turned into a groan of frustration, commanding Josie to leave his office with a smooth wave of his hand.
--
The walk from the church to the cafe wasn't very far, maybe more than half a mile, and Kerran was in desperate need of the fresh air. He allowed the wind to disrupt his neatly combed hair, knowing it was useless trying to fix what nature wanted, and hurried on his way.
He had been to the cafe several times, both by himself and with friends, so he was relieved that he was meeting this stranger in a familiar setting.
He hoped to beat the Cardinal there, and by the looks of it, he did just that.
"Oi! Father Kerran! It's good to see you again!" One of the baristas, Polo, yelled at seeing Kerran walk through the door. He gave them a quick smile and walked over to them, if anyone knew about a stranger in this town it would be Polo.
"Good noon, Polo. I have an inquiry about some I'm supposed to meet here." Kerran said, too busy scanning the menu to see Polo's smile droop, "Did a man by the name of Zechariah Gomez come in? I wasn't told of what he looks like, but I believe he's from out of town."
He looked back at Polo to see their brown eyes set at one of the outdoor seats. He followed their stare and felt his stomach slightly drop.
"Thank you," He muttered, stepping away from the counter and slowly making his way over.
Cardinal Zechariah Gomez filled the cliche of a satanic pastor almost perfectly. Everything about him screamed macabre and the Devil.
When Kerran was a few feet away, Zechariah looked up from the book he was reading–The cover blank despite a few unreadable words in gold–and caused Kerran to freeze for a split second.
His left eye was completely white, save for his pupil, sending shocks of unease through Kerran. It wasn't natural.
Despite Kerrans clear hesitation, Zechariah stood and greet him with a polite smile.
"Father Kerran, it's a pleasure to meet you on Bishop Crews behalf. Im aware he passed almost a year ago, but it means a lot to me and my church that you still wished to meet."
The man's voice was deep and smooth, reminding Kerran of cooling lava; mesmerizing and dangerous.
Kerran gave his best smile and shook Zechariah's gloved hand, the leather cool despite the heat, and sat down across from him.
As a waitress passed, Zechariah caught her attention and spoke. His head turned perfectly for Kerran to get a good view of his side profile.
The satanic cardinal was quite handsome for a man. His nose was hooked and a thin silver circle hung from between his nostrils. His facial hair was neatly trimmed and his neck was shaved, exposing a nasty scar and showing off the bold Omega symbol tattooed across his throat.
Leviticus 19:28
Peeking above the clerical collar of the cardinals cassock, Kerran could see bruised skin sprinkled with purple and blues and reds. He glanced at Zechariah's left ring finger, the emptiness was enough.
Fornication.
"Father Kerran, what would you like? Its on me." Zechariah said, looking back at the priest. Kerran sweated under Zechariah's intense stare but quickly answered.
"One small black coffee and a bagel. No cream or butter."
The waitress jotted down the order and gave the two of them a smile before walking away. She smelled of cigarettes.
Romans 12:1
"Now, I'm sure you were told of what the late Bishop Crew wished to speak to me about." Zechariah said, taking a napkin and spreading it across his lap. He looked at Kerran again, staring into the man's eyes with intensity strong enough to ward off a bear.
Kerran nodded, anxiety suddenly bubbling under his chest. "Yes. He left quite a long note for me to read that brought me up to date on the reason for your meeting."
Zechariah nodded, a soft breeze passing through the outdoor seating to rustle the black hair that hung down and draped across his shoulders. Kerran glanced at the patch on the black fabric above Zechariah's heart.
It was in the shape of an upside down cross, the edges flaring out slightly and creating a smooth yet cutting shape. The cross itself was decorated with golden beads connected by copper thread, the center of it all held a beautifully intricate pattern of lapis beads.
"Well, I'm happy he did that as that saves me precious time."
Kerran looked back up at Zechariah's face with confusion before the younger man reached into a leather bag seated next to him and pulled out a few papers.
"These," Zechariah started, "Are the names and histories of the teachers that work at the Emeritus Church a few towns over. Now, because this area is sort of packed I'm not too worried about transportation. Also because I saw the shuttle buses in the back of your church."
The older man pulled his reading glasses from his pocket and put them on, squinting at the paper laid before him.
"Each of these teachers have a degree in both education and scientific studies. They have worked with public and private schools and each of their records are clean."
Kerran hummed, scanning each of the pages and confirming everything the Cardinal was saying. He knew what was being asked of him, and he wasn't completely sure what he should give as an answer.
"Wait, I thought this was your first time in town. How do you know of the shuttle buses? They're hidden from the road."
Zechariah smiled slightly, "We have our resources just the same as you."
The Priest visibly bristled, a vein popping on his forehead with distrust and shock.
"Google Maps, Father. We passed your church on the way here and my driver had the app open on his phone."
Kerran relaxed immediately. "Oh, I apologize."
Shortly after their drinks and food arrived.
Zechariah had also ordered a black coffee and Kerran could see the two hibiscus tea bags hanging off of the side as the two of them sipped on their coffee, a stretch of awkward silence passed between the two of them. However it only seemed to affect one.
"Excuse me, Cardinal Bishop Gomez," Kerran using Zechariah's last name caused him to look up from the paper, "Forgive me for being out of the loop, but can you truthfully tell me what you and Crew had spoken about? This is no offense to you," that was a lie "But Bishop Crew wasn't exactly the type of man to make business with..."
"Sinners." Zechariah finished after a clear pause from hesitation. Kerran nodded. When Zechariah first met the Priest, he was impressed by how sturdy the man was, but now he looked as if he would just melt away at any moment.
"Well, to put it simply, Bishop Crew had quite a few debts that still needed to be collected. He owed my teacher, The First Emeritus brother, and they came to an agreement that if your church allowed us to teach your disciples science and math, then he would forgive everything Crew owed. They had the plans all ready and the teachers lined up, the final thing waiting was Crew to sign off on the teachers we chose. Unfortunately, he met with his maker before he could do so. And that brings me here," Zechariah said, motioning to the small cafe around him.
Kerran nodded, holding the mug in both hands to warm his freezing skin. He took one look at the pages before speaking.
"Well, I worked under Crew and I can promise you that he never spoke a word about this to me. The only proof I have is a note but that could have easily been forged. So unless you have physical proof of the two of you talking, I'm not sure I'm comfortable enough just sitting here for longer with a stranger." Kerran objected and glanced at his watch.
"I knew you'd say that," Zechariah said, reaching a leather clad hand into his bag and pulling out an orange folder. "In there are physical pictures, taken by my driver, of us meeting several times to discuss this."
As Zechariah spoke, Kerran flipped through the pages. Each one was filled completely with photographs taken over several days with dates attached of the large bishop and towering Cardinal greeting with each other and sitting at this exact table.
"I thought you said you've never been here before?" Kerran pointedly asked, meeting Zechariah's eye.
"Oh, not in a long while. I also just wanted to make you feel like you had the upper hand, feed your ego a bit."
Kerran looked back at the pictures, quickly flipping through them and not really paying attention to what was captured. "Is your driver photographing us now?"
"Over my left shoulder, 3'o'clock, black dodge charger."
The Priest looked, lifting his head just in time to see a pale hand holding a camera up and closing the shutter on it with an inaudible click. It lowered the camera and gave Kerran a wide toothy smile.
"It, he has–"
"Horns." Zechariah interruptted, "Yes. He also has a tail. That is a ghoul, Father Kerran, please close your mouth." Kerran followed his order blindly "And it is not the only one of it's kind. You see, there are hundreds of them at the church, a dozen or so I summoned myself."
"Summoned?" Kerran questioned, unacknowledged fear starting to set into his bones. Zechariah spoke as of he was as old as Crew when he died, sending a small twinge through his chest, but the lack of gray in his hair told Kerran he was still quite young.
Zechariah hummed, as if he was approving a child's actions "Yes, summoned. From hell." he said simply and he drank in the priests shock with his coffee, cherishing his paling face and slightly warbling chin.
"It's a sin to summon an evil spirit." Kerran whispered mindlessly. False hope pushing his words that will somehow, someway save this degenerate.
The Cardinal's lips pulled back into a sinister smile, his teeth stained by coffee but still bright and contrasting against his silver canines.
"Sin is what I'm good at, Father." Zechariah said softly, the silver turned cross and G on the back of his black glove as it rose into Kerran's immediate view.
As the fingers slid against each other and the Cardinal Bishops middle finger slapped against his palm, black plastic covered Father Kerran's head and wrapped tight around his neck.