Chapter Text
“What do you think it is?”
“A jumpsuit? Whose is it? And why is it covered in tape?” Julie tilts her head to better examine the jacket, but she’s startled by footsteps.
The footsteps are getting louder by the second. She looks at Mike, who’s just as perplexed as she is, and is staring ahead.
Then she realises. It’s multiple people approaching.
She takes her eyes off the boy and looks towards the group of red-cloaked figures marching towards them, now quickening their pace when they lock eyes with Julie.
The Bishops.
“HEY!” Bishop Nico shouts, in the center of the formation.
Julie looks at Mike again, and this time the boy stares back at her. They have to run, but the bishops will surely catch them. She nods, as if saying “I have a plan”. Mike looks unsure, but shakes his hands and shrugs his shoulders, preparing for… whatever Julie and the Bishops are up to.
“Hand that over.” Bishop Reisdro says, unamused as ever. How many times has this happened? Surely not many, Julie thinks. “We don’t have time to deal with kids who think they can be rebels.”
Bishop Keons chuckles at Reisdro’s comment, and both Bishop Vetomo and Reisdro turn to look at him, and he stops smiling. Is this some sort of joke between Bishops?
“You’re mistaken, Bishop Reisdro! We just found this in the courtyard and we were wondering who it belongs to! Do you think it could be some musician’s weird outfit, or perhaps—?”
Before Mike can finish his sentence, Bishop Keons steps forward, not without the flurry of glares from his fellow Bishops. He lowers his hood, kneels down, smiles. and offers a hand to Julie.
She is, of course, terrified. She’s never seen the Bishops up close, let alone without their signature red hood and meshed veil. And this Bishop is… smiling?
She does not expect, however, for Bishop Keons’ voice to sound so gentle. Compared to the other Bishops, she thought, this is different. Hoarse. Strained. Slightly high-pitched. But above all else, gentle.
The Bishop speaks slowly. “You’re not in trouble. No one is going to be mad at you. Just hand me the jumpsuit. We’ll take care of the drum set.”
Julie hesitates, her heart still beating out of her chest. She looks down to the shoulder of the jacket, between the yellow duct tape and the neck, and she notices something. Writing. A name? C-L-A-N—
She looks up at Keons’ black-and-white painted face.
“Sir, who is Clancy?”
Immediately, the Bishop’s face darkens. His eyes widen. He doesn’t look angry, but rather… scared.
As if hearing the name triggered memories he didn’t want to have. He stumbles backwards, rushes to his feet, and pulls up his hood. All of the other Bishops gasp, look among themselves, and start putting their arms in the air.
Bishop Nico jumps to the front of the group again. He raises both his hands and places them up to Mike and Julie’s faces.
They begin to feel their conscience wearing thin, the temperature dropping, as if their souls were being pulled from their body, out through their face.
Julie’s mind races through all of this. “Is this what being smeared feels like? I haven’t been smeared before. I’ve heard everyone talk about being smeared and how it’s a good thing. Why are they putting us to sleep!?”
They hear Bishop Keons shouting something.
They can feel their bodies being dragged along the concrete.
Why did the name “Clancy” bring such a reaction out of the Bishops? Why did Keons almost pass out upon hearing that name? Why did all of the other Bishops feel the need to punish Mike and Julie for simply… bringing him up? She promises herself she’ll get to the bottom of this.
And then they fall asleep.