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It’s been about a month since Nihil moved into the monastery for the first time, he assumed, since he was born. Both him and his five year old son, Junior, lived in a small one bedroom apartment. Sister said she was helping him petition to get a larger apartment, better suited to being a son of Papa, but the needed paperwork still needed to be finished. His bloodline, looked into and confirmed. He’d hoped that a Satanic church wouldn’t be so steeped in bureaucracy, but he was mistaken. So in the meantime, a tiny apartment.
In said apartment, Nihil leaned against the bedroom door frame, looking into the living room at his son kneeling by the coffee table. Freshly applied skull makeup still drying, Nihil listened in on Junior’s mumbling as he fanned his painted face with his hand. His new uniform.
But this wasn’t new, Junior’s about that age to be talking to himself, trying to figure out words and concepts in an endless narration. At least that’s what the pediatrician told him. Imaginary friends are a normal part of development for some kids. Being a single parent was a lot harder than he thought when Junior was born, but with Sister in his life...maybe it could be a lot easier.
“...but why do you want it? Sounds messy...” Junior mused, picking up the yellow crayon to color in the sun he’d drawn out in black crayon. He glanced towards the curtained window, evening sun trickling through.
“What’s messy, bud?” Nihil asks, approaching and sitting down on the couch next to him. Probably the smudging of the yellow crayon as he colored in the black crayon’s lines. Understandable, that always bothered him when he was a kid too.
“Blood,” was his one word reply. Nihil frowned uncomfortably. What on Earth are they teaching him at the daycare here.
“As long as it’s in a body where it belongs it shouldn’t be,” Nihil offered. He reached to put a hand on his son’s shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly. He thought of the rituals he’d seen, chalices of blood passed around. He remembered the bloodbaths of the dark disco he met Sister at. Junior didn’t need to know about that right now, though. One day he'll be properly introduced to the religion, when Nihil himself knows more. “What sparked this...?”
Junior picked at the wax paper wrapping the crayon. “Me and the voice have been talking again.” The imaginary friend. He’d refused to give it a name, strictly referring to it as the voice. He wasn’t a very creative kid, but Nihil hadn’t expected differently from how he knew his son. “It’s started to ask for blood now, but it wont tell me why it wants it.”
Nihil swallowed the lump that suddenly knotted itself into his throat. “What...else has it asked you about?” Was it cold in here?
“Just that.” Junior had mentioned before the voice would whisper comments to him, about everyday things, and he’d often repeat the statements aloud. It was as if he was the interpreter in a conversation, taking long moments as if listening before speaking.
Nihil hated whatever this was. A lot. It’d never gotten this weird before. “You don’t have to listen to it, Junior. This...this isn’t a normal imaginary friend kind of conversation to have.” After a moment, mind spinning in worry, he added, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, but.” He successfully skinned the crayon, proudly, only ripping the last corner of the wrapper. “I don’t know where to get blood.” He tightly wound the wrapper back over the crayon, watching it unfurl as he let go tension on it. "No. It isn't right to kill."
Nihil looked from the clock on the wall to the back of his son's head with a frown. He needed to drop Junior at daycare so he could make it to the ritual in time with Sister. This is not the time to have a reality shattering moment with his boy.
“There will be no blood. You shouldn’t indulge this.” Nihil slipped his hands under Junior’s armpits, lifting him to his feet as he wiggled. “Oh-kay!” He punctuated loudly. “We need to get your shoes on for daycare, hai captio?” It took a lot for him to not follow his American upbringing to punctuate with capiche, instead trying to force himself to use the proper Italian.
A small, “capisco,” was the quick reply. Understood.
He’ll ask Sister about this. Later. If something not normal is talking to his son because he moved here, he’s got a lot of choice words to say. They need to get that paperwork done expeditiously. “Can you find them? Your shoes?”
Junior puffed and set down his unfurled crayon, diligently wobbling off to find his shoes. “I know where they are!”
Nihil sunk heavily into the couch, resisting the urge to rub his face. He wasn’t sure if the paint was dry yet, and he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of everyone with messy paint. Even if this was all still so new to him, he was supposed to be the lost heir, Emeritus. He allowed himself the brief respite before straightening when Junior returned proudly with his shoes. “Need my help or do you want to do it on your own?”
Junior sat down and wordlessly tried putting his shoes on by himself. Nihil smiled. “I know how to do this,” Junior said as he pushed away Nihil’s hands as he reached to do his velcro straps.
“Good job! Ready for daycare? Get to go see the pretty Sisters? They’ll take care of you again tonight.” Nihil stood and offered a hand to his son. He took the offered hand and they set off. Taking a second to look into the empty apartment, he closed and locked the door behind them, shutting away whatever could be hiding in there.
--
By the time the ritual had finished it was nine in the evening, the sun long since dipped behind both the gothic architecture and the horizon leaving the air chilly as the couple walked down the steps amongst their fellow clergy.
“So Sister...” Nihil broached nervously. When she nodded, noting she was listening, he continued, “Junior has been saying some really worrying things tonight. About the voice, you remember when I told you about that, telling him that it wants blood. That he needs to get it for him.” Nihil wrung his hands together, gesturing back towards the ritual hall. “I’m starting to think this isn’t an imaginary friend. Sister, what if he’s being possessed? I’ve never seen something like that, but...I’ve brought him into a world of demons now...” Nihil wasn’t sure if he believed in ghosts, but demons and devils were stock in both his past and current religion, both metaphorical and literal. And now being happily surrounded by unholy objects, participating in evil ceremonies, Nihil was worried there could be consequences to his actions.
She took a bit to think, as they continued down the stairs. “He could be. Is he showing any signs, acting out of turn, perhaps being more angry or violent?” In the back of her mind, gears were turning. Nihil was obviously upset over this.
“No, no.” He waved his hand. “Nothing different. He’s the same as he always has been, but he’s having conversations. He’s interpreting. And now whatever he’s talking to is making demands.”
Clicking her tongue, Sister smiled despite Nihil’s deep set frown. “What if he’s just talking?” Nihil made a motion to speak, but she held up a hand to his face and stopped walking. He stopped too. “Don’t start. Listen. There are few people in this world that can be the direct link between us and the unholy father. What I’m saying,” she put a finger to his lips, continuing to silence him. “This doesn’t sound like a possession. In fact, this could be so much better!” She was beaming, lips pulled so far back he could get lost in her enticing gum line. It was a decent distraction from his worry; He wanted to lick them til he forgot who he was.
She didn’t remove her finger from his lips until she started walking again, but faster towards the daycare center. Nihil jumped to keep up with her. “I don’t want him talking to any demons, what if they hurt him? What if they do possess him? Or even convince him to be the human sacrifice they want?” Nihil stumbled trying to keep up with Sister. How did she do that in heels? "He's just a baby."
Sister didn't slow her pace, only tossing back a smile at him as he tripped. "If they really can talk to him, he's untouchable," she whispered out the word, excitement bubbling under her skin. "They wouldn’t hurt a true medium, they all understand how rare a chance to let their voices be heard, really heard. This could be a gift from Lucifer himself to us, to you, for finding us once more."
"Well..." he quickly trailed off, words dying in his pants as he chased Sister to the daycare. He'd asked the sisters there to promise him they'd keep his little boy safe during the ritual, and despite her elation, Nihil was having a hard time fighting his paternal instincts. But she said it could be a gift from Lucifer.
The daycare center was really just a single makeshift room in the ministry, littered with children's toys, cribs, and mats, a couple of which were occupied by children sleeping, waiting for their parents to finish the ritual. A group of sisters and a masked man stood together, tasked watching over the room and chatting.
Sister entered the half-lit room first, bee-lining directly towards a sleepy looking Junior. He sat at a children's table with an arrangement of a partially eaten snack in front of him. She ignored the others to kneel by his side as Nihil came in.
"Hello, signorino. I heard from your papa that you've been hearing a voice," she started with a close lipped smile. Little gentleman. Always so playfully formal with him.
He nodded, rubbing his face of its grogginess, and eyed one of the empty mats the other children slept on. Maybe this wasn't the best time for an interrogation, but Sister was nothing, if relentless.
"Can you tell me a little about what you're hearing? Does it sound like English or Italian? Or perhaps a bit more like the Latin at service?" Nihil finished thanking the sisters in messy Italian before joining them at Junior's opposite side, flanking the boy. "Or something else?"
"It talks funny, but I know what the voice says! Its always super nice to me." Sister smiled at Nihil, who took the boy's hand gently in his. Junior yawned widely and Sister leaned a bit away from his encroaching breath. The attention she was giving to Junior right now was slightly out of the ordinary, Sister usually letting Nihil tend to him by himself. He wasn't sure if she wanted to be a mother, but at least she never said anything mean or nasty about him already having a child while they dated.
“It asked for sacrifice...” Nihil added, furrowing his brows into a tight line. Didn’t sound very nice to him. Was he the only one out of the two of them to think it wasn’t normal to ask that of a child?
It looked as if Sister was to speak, but Junior interjected, “It said please, papa!”
Nihil ignored his son. “Sister, is he going to be haunted for the rest of his life?”
She gave him an unimpressed look. “I told you, this is a great gift he’s received. Talking directly to demons is a highly coveted talent, especially here as a member of the clergy. You simply can’t learn this.” There was a certain twitch in her eyes, betraying her usual complete control over herself. The unspoken, “trust me, I’ve tried.”
Junior’s face grew serious, listening to the unseen. Sister recognized it instantly, focusing in on his face before looking around. “Is it speaking? Can you ask its name for me?”
Nihil heard the other sisters’ conversation die down, preferring to listen in on whatever is happening between the three of them. The entire room was quiet, and Nihil shivered. He felt the boring eyes of the masked man amongst the sisters.
Another beat. “Doesn’t wanna.” Even Junior looked a bit frustrated as the entire roomed sighed their collectively held breath.
Sister gave Junior a pet to his head, dark fluffy hair smoothed down in a comforting gesture. “Don’t worry, stellina, we will work on this together, alright? We will hone your talents and identify all those who seek you in the shadows.” An affectionate, little star. This is the first time he’d heard her call him that.
Will learning more about all this protect his son more then? Nihil will have to, again, have this conversation, alone, with Sister. Right now she seemed more interested in talking with Junior instead of him. “That’s enough for tonight, I’ve got a kid to put to bed. You’re riling him up.” He stood, slipping his hands under Junior’s arms again, hefting him up against his chest. He protested slightly with a long whine and chorus of no’s. “Nope. Time for bed.”
Sister stood and gave him a sharp look. “Domani.”
Nihil adjusted his grip on his son, silent for a moment. “Tomorrow.”