Forgive Me, Father! by D. J. Doyle
Well, that was a nice bollocking I just received from head office. I was annoyed by his threat, “Father Jack, if you lose one more person, I’ll shut you down.” Yeah, right. They won’t find anyone else to put their life on the line and not tell a soul. I’d like to see him suck a demon out of a person, especially a child. It’s not like Gavin’s death was because of negligence, or stupidity, the team all agreed it was an unfortunate accident. I don’t believe I could have done anything to stop the spear from slicing through Gavin. If I had removed it, the outcome would still be the same. Anyway, I’ve got bigger fish to fry. Father Dylan has gone A.W.O.L. and I think I know why.
Twelve weeks have passed since we went to Tipperary to rid the boy of the demon, and he didn’t turn up to help with the large portal closure. I should have checked on him then. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before, I knew the signs, so maybe it was denial. It always starts with a bad attitude, just like a teenager, then, like a woman with PMS; my sister was a right bitch two days of every month. When Dylan punched innocent Ronan in the face, giving him a shiner, he had to be held back by no less than three of my guys. This was a sign which should have slapped me in the face. I should have known. He’s possessed, and we had no iota where he was. We checked his one-bed apartment in the city by the harbour, all the bars and restaurants he would haunt, and with his parents. Not one has seen him in over two weeks.
I had the audacity to ring the prodigal son, Dylan’s twin, Lee. A gutter junkie, his only care in the world is where his next fix is coming from. How can brothers turn out so differently? One a demon-fighting priest with a heart of gold, and the other who’d sell their granny for a line of coke. They had the same upbringing, same school, same friends. I just don’t get it.
Anyways, Lee sounded a little suspicious and cagy on the phone, because he usually tells me to go fuck an altar boy, which means he’s conspicuously trying to hide something... or someone.
Into the seedy Dublin underworld I go, in search of the diamond in the rough, so to speak. I find it more difficult to deal with junkies and dealers than the flayed body of a tortured soul, they anger me by supplying their toxic shit to gullible kids who don’t know they’re smoking and sniffing rat poison and horse tranquiliser. Who knows what other shit they add to it. I sucked the life out of the hundreds of chemicals in my Marlboro Red and didn’t care to think of the hypocrisy. Smoking is different. Yes, it can kill you, but I wouldn’t beat up an old man for his wallet to buy a pack. I wouldn’t tie up a woman, cum all over her, and steal her car for a cigarette.
Drug houses were my first port of call, inside these shitholes were the saddest of lives and, if I needed to bribe every motherfucking one of them to get some damn information, that’s what I would do. An abandoned tenement building probably built around the early 1900s, and only a minutes’ walk from the centre, was my first attempt at trying to find our newest member of the team. This was a four-story building with about six rooms on each, not something to look forward to. As I entered, the stench hit the membranes at the back of my nose and throat, a mix of old urine, fresh urine, shit, and vomit crawled into my senses and collided with my reflux as I gagged, swallowed the burning acid which slid up to my gullet, and then gagged again. Thank feck I had an empty stomach, lunchtime was coming up, but something tells me I couldn’t stomach a cracker, never mind a Subway. I lit two cigarettes and held one in each hand for the smoke to mask the smell from both sides. Through the hallway, faint cream paint flaked off the walls and a wooden border crumbled when touched, this place was ancient. Litter stilted my stride as I stepped over empty bottles, McDonald’s food bags, and foil. I could also see bits of drug paraphernalia throughout. Let’s just say, I’m glad the soles of my shoes were strong enough to impede any sharp object from piercing my skin. How would it look for a priest to seek STD tests? The first room contained a stained mattress and a sponge, yellow with brown spots. I shuddered, not wanting to think what they used it for.
Apart from being a dumping ground for clothes and food packages, all other rooms were empty on the ground floor. My guess was the occupants wouldn’t have enough notice of a raid on the premises to flush their drugs down the toilet or throw them out the window. As I reached the stairway, there was a whistle, split into two tones, and the same tone echoed from the other floors - I’m sure it’s a different tone for the Guards.
“Howaya Father, wha’ does God want with our unfortunate establishment today?”
A man in his twenties sat at the top of the hallway with his legs hanging down in between the bars of the stairs. He wore a long green army coat which had seen better days, his hair was ruffled, and his teeth were rotten to the core.
“Ah, hello there, I’m just looking for a friend, nothing more, nothing less. Lee Pinfold. I heard this is one of the places he visits. Do you know if he’s here?”
“Is tha’ yer man, sideshow Bob, with the long curly blond hair?”
“No, he has red hair with freckles.”
“Oh, ye mean the ginger nut? Yeah, haven’t seen tha’ yoke today.”
It annoyed me he didn’t even think about his answer, so I didn’t believe him. Maybe some money would help this little toe-rag remember. I sneaked out a twenty note from my pocket, curled it, and scratched my nose with it. That certainly got his attention. In the back of my mind, I envisioned what he could purchase with a score, a line of coke? A couple of ecstasy tablets? A blowjob? It didn’t matter, I just needed to know.
“Yeah, I saw him earlier, but he wasn’t on his tod. His bro was with ‘im. The darker ginger nut.”
Yep, that’s him, Lee is orange like a carrot, but Dylan had the darkest natural red hair I’d ever seen. Russet was probably the best word to describe it.
“So, they’re not here now. Do you know where they went?”
He shook his head, held out his hand for the cash, and the cheeky fecker did a ‘Neo’.
“Okay, at least tell me what room or floor they were on? I think that’s worth it.”
“They were on the fourth floor. Don’t know wha’ room. Are you doing confessions today, Father? ‘Cause I got a list as long as me mickey, Father,” he laughed.
“So, just one or two sins to confess then,” I retorted. His laughter filled the hallway and echoed down the corridors.
“You’re all righ’ Father, go ahead.”
He stood and retreated into the corridor, allowing me to pass. If I didn’t smoke thirty cigs a day, I would’ve scaled those stairs to get away from this junkie pronto, but, alas, I struggled to catch my breath, pains circulated my chest with every heartbeat, and my muscles strained with each step. Fuck this, it better be worth the effort or the heart attack. On the fourth floor, the rooms seemed alive with shenanigans. There were five to check, only instinct will tell me which one they were in. When I approached the first door, which was slightly ajar, I couldn’t quite comprehend what I was hearing. It wasn’t until I peeked in did the noises match up; there was some sort of gangbang happening on a two-seater sofa. I thought my eyes would disintegrate and melt to oblivion there and then. Three skinny men, wearing just socks, were with one woman, and a big bloke recorded it all on his phone. One was underneath, and one on top, using both holes, and the third stood in front of her face. A strong smell of cum wafted up my nose and fluid built up under my tonsils.
“Oi, ge’ outta here, ye perv,” the cameraman shouted.
“Sorry, wrong room,” I said, and darted away from the door.
“Was that a priest?” one said. They all laughed. It’s so easy to make porn these days, all you need is a phone and some willing characters.
Another room was filled with defunct bodies; wasted. there must have been about twelve of them. Needles littered the room, along with the smell of urine. I know Dylan wouldn’t have been in here, even possessed, it wasn’t his ‘scene’. The door was locked for the next room, or barricaded, with rave music playing. It wasn’t even worth trying to access, I can only imagine what was going on.
When I touched the handle on the next door, I trembled. A shiver started at my shoulders and travelled all the way to my toes. All I could sense was evil, and I knew this was the room Dylan had visited. There was no smell, but a sense, a nefarious sense, and it crawled under my skin, playing with the follicles of each hair, stiffened like a sex-deprived teenager with a cheap hooker. My senses don’t always work, so I can’t guarantee I’ll sense anything, but this was super intense. Two wooden chairs, like the rickety ones I sat on in school, faced a low mahogany coffee table with two coffee cups, an empty Subway wrapper, an empty cig packet, and a business card. I picked up the card with a cosmic print and a pair of sexy legs with only a name, ‘Samantha’, and a phone number. Oh, fuck, I had to try and convince someone I wanted an appointment for a ‘fun’ time. I’m not a fucking actor. I’m also convinced I’m asexual and not attracted to any sex or being, with no sex drive, it’s easy. Through my teenage years, I had no desire to kiss or to get to second base with any girl. The boys in school used to call me a faggot, but I didn’t find boys attractive either. I just don’t find anyone or anything appealing, and my mum never had to worry about walking into my room. Don’t get me wrong, it does work, I’ve had stiffies, but never the urge to ‘act’ on it.
I dialled the number and a titillating voice answered ‘Hello, this is Samantha’; I could tell they hid their Dublin accent. Quite well, actually.
“I’m, eh, calling about an appointment. I want to make one. This is my first one.”
“And how did you get my number, dear?”
Her voice was so smooth, I envisioned the rabbit from the flake advert back in the 80s. It was only recently I found out Miriam Margoyles, and I don’t mean to be mean, but I’m sure a ton of boys and men desired that voice. My internal laugh nearly escaped.
“From a friend, who uses your services.”
I hoped she wouldn’t ask for any more details.
“What’s his name, darling?”
Fuuuuuck, I would have to give away his name. He might already be there, or on his way, and this would mean he’d be wondering who called, who mentioned him.
“Lee, the ginger one.”
“And your name, honey?”
“Deco,” I answered wildly, and I have no idea why. I assumed most Dubs would know a ‘Deco’. I crossed my fingers in the hope it would work.
“Okay, Declan. I’ll text you the address. No cards, cash only. It is a hundred for the first hour and fifty for every hour after that. Add any specifics to your text back to me along with a time.”
I paused, not knowing what to reply.
“Colour, height, size, sex, whatever you want? If you know what you want, you can tell me now.”
“Female, Caucasian, blonde hair, slim, average height. As soon as possible, please.”
I just said the first answers that came to my mind, they were describing a stereotypical woman every man wants to sleep with. Ugh.
“Right then, Deco. We’ve booked you in at 6pm, an hour from now. Just tap twice on the door, pause, and tap again. If you get that wrong, we won’t let you in.”
She hung up. Stars had already started to appear in the sky, thanks bejaysus it’s dark. If I was seen entering a brothel, I’d never live it down.
My phone buzzed with the text message as I sat in the car, the location wasn’t too far. A quick cigarette to calm my nerves, that’s all I need. The flint on the lighter challenged my patience, but I managed to keep it glowing for three seconds, long enough to light the cancer stick. I took deep inhales in the hope my hand would stop shaking, my heart stop pounding, and my mind running with seventeen open tabs. While I puffed away on the tobacco, images of possessions raced through my head.
Singed hair wafted into my face as the embers touched my skin. I flicked the bastard out the window. Time to go. In the back of my mind, I knew I should have called the team, this was not a solo job. Instincts guided me to do it alone, Dylan would not want anyone else to see him like this. Fuck me, I didn’t want to see him like this.
After ten minutes driving through Dublin centre, I’d arrived at the building; a block of new apartments situated near a financial district. They must be inundated with businessmen, stressed out, under pressure. I fight demons from other realms, you don’t see me wanting to get me rocks off; privileged desk jockeys.
I parked up and entered the apartment block and nearly forgot to remove my white collar...that was lucky. Imagine I knocked and heard ‘Hello, Father!”, that would be hilarious. Someone was coming out of the building entrance, so luckily, I grabbed the heavy PVC door before it closed. The decor was modern and pleasant with ice grey walls and a nearly black carpet. Very exquisite. I tapped on the door, as requested, and the latch scraped the metal as it opened a crack. A hazel eye peeked at me and I smiled innocently.
“Hello, I have an appointment. I’m just a little early, eager, I suppose. I’m Deco.”
“Hold on, wait here, please.”
Her accent was Eastern European and met the requirements I had given earlier. I wondered if she’d be the one they matched with me. The door closed to open fully without the latch to reveal a blonde girl posing, with one leg exposed from a pink silky dressing gown.
“Hi, I’m Kalina. Come on in. I’ll be with you shortly.”
She walked down a long corridor with multiple doors on each side, and all I heard when I passed each were the moans and groans of debauchery. One door was open and I had to peek - in a big open space was an X-cross structure with straps on the four corners. On the walls were whips, chains, masks made of plastic and leather, and a whole host of items for BDSM. Something inside my tummy fluttered a bit, I hope what I saw didn’t turn me on. Crap. It looked like they converted two luxury four- or five-bedroom apartments into this den of iniquity. Using all rooms, except the kitchens, as a speedy sex-fest room. A short blue-haired lady, who was quite voluptuous, sat reading a magazine at the breakfast table.
“Hello there, handsome. Would you like to be a baby and suck on my tit?” she asked, she had a strong Northern accent, probably Belfast.
Of course, I looked at her tits. Yep, what she said made me stare at those big melons. Her cleavage line was longer than my head. Feck! Then all I thought about was smothering my head in her bazookas. I don’t know why, but I nearly found myself saying ‘next time’ and choked on my saliva before I declined with a cough and a simple ‘no thanks’.
I’m in over my head here.
“Sit down there, Deco. We’ll have a room ready in a few minutes. Are you into anything kinky? We specialise in catering for those that ‘walk on the wild side’.”
Kalina winked and giggled with Big Blue Tits. Oh great, I’d given her a fucking nickname.
“No, nothing strange, thanks. Straight forward… forward…sex thingy.”
Well if that didn’t give it away.
“You’ve a face like a slapped arse. Are you a virgin, Deco?” Big Blue Tits sounded suspicious.
“Hardly, I go to these types of places in the U.K. all the time. I just didn’t want to say shag on my first visit here.”
‘Go on, ye good thing’. I really got myself out of that shite.
“You can say a prayer or whatever else you want,” added Kalina.
“Most do say their prayers here. ‘Oh god’, ‘oh god, yeah’, oh god, please’... like that.”
Big Blue Tits roared laughing as her belly and breasts jiggled, the movement mesmerising.
I gulped with the irony of all this, if only they knew.
Kalina left the room, it was my chance to investigate while I had one of the workers on their own.
“Do you know all the customers here?” I asked, with an aloof tone.
“Yeah, most of them.”
Big Blue Tits fidgeted in her seat.
“Do you know Lee? The red-headed fella.”
“Oh, the copper-bollocks. Yeah, I know that junkie, the only junkie allowed here ‘cause he has money. I assume you know him, too.”
“Yes, he’s a bud of mine. He’s not here now by any chance, is he?”
She frowned at me, her mind must have been racing. Shit, I needed to think fast.
“I owe him some money, for me last score. That’s all.”
‘Phew, I saved meself again.’
“Yeah, he asked for something really special. Him and that other ginger. His brother, right? They slapped down a wad of cash, paid for Mika, Pasha, and Mary, and they went down to the dungeon - which is what we call the basement.”
“What do you mean by ‘really’ special?”
“Give me a tenner and I’ll tell you.”
I searched my pockets for notes, there was thirty quid in my back one. I slipped the twenty up my sleeve, if she saw that I’d have to hand that over, too. She tucked the tenner into the side of those jugs, leant over, and whispered into my ear.
“He’s downstairs now, making a fake snuff film. Well, that’s what they said. I’m sure they’re just riding the arse of the girls.”
If it was Dylan, and just Dylan, he wouldn’t do anything like this, but this wasn’t Dylan, and instantly I knew what they were doing was no fake snuff film. If he brought anyone near the brink of death, he could open a portal and let them be taken over. Unfortunately, he was using his brother to achieve this.
In the basement, exit lights flickered green and white, causing shadows to dance to avoid real light. Pipes lined the dark walls and water dripped in unison, which echoed throughout the hallways. I used a little torch on my set of keys, just to make sure I didn’t trip over anything. Up ahead was a junction and the hallway split in two, at the end of one corridor there was a large orange metal door and down the other corridor was a standard brown door, probably to a storeroom. Strange noises came from beyond the metal one, they were muffled but the pit of my stomach twisted and churned as I sensed the evil, just like all those other times when I’m nearing someone possessed, and they’re trying to take full control of their chosen vessel.
A quick smoke, a few puffs, was needed to calm my nerves while I walked closer.
‘Deep breaths, you can do this’.
As always, I rubbed the stone in my pocket, my good luck charm as well as the only way I have to open a portal. Fully charged and ready to use. My other pocket contained a lot of salt, these feckers hate salt. Pity they never did this shit beside the sea, we could just throw them in and watch ‘em squirm.
I turned the handle gently, only a minimal of metal scraped inside the mechanism and, once I heard the click, I pushed just an inch. With my eye peeking through the crack, what I saw smacked me in the mouth and wrenched at my stomach, here comes the vomit again - too often today. This time, I couldn’t hold it and vomit spewed out onto the floor. Jesus, I haven’t had carrots in weeks, yet there is always a piece of carrot swimming with my food. I quickly sent Father Niall a text with the address and ‘Code Turin’, the highest level of security breach we have with these feckers. I couldn’t wait, I had to cause a distraction before it was too late for everyone in that basement room.
Inside, I kept to the shadows as only the centre of the room was illuminated. Huge photography lights used in films and movies beamed downwards, and the white screen amplified the brightness. It only amplified the atrocity happening before me. Three women were on their backs, strapped to tables in a circle, their heads all facing inwards with Dylan in the middle. Lee strolled around the tables checking their pulses on their wrists; as a junkie, I assume he knows how to check pulses and shit. He has probably checked many dead friends over the years, and then robbed their stash. Pools of blood gathered on the floor as Dylan slashed veins in their arms, stomach, and legs. Deep enough to bleed heavily, but not deep enough to bleed out. Two cried out in agony, their cries pressed down hard on my shoulders. The third lay motionless, but still breathing, her skin covered with maroon stains. Dylan raised his arms, said some words in his own language, I’ve only heard it a few times and don’t have a bog what they’re saying. He rubbed his hands together, I could see he was holding a stone. Friction caused little sparks to dance in the air above his victims. If it wasn’t for his hair, I would second guess it was him. Boils covered the skin he showed, some burst as yellow pus mixed with blood dribbled down to his neck and on to his white sleeves from his hands. Red puffy eyes glared at the ceiling and then down at each woman, all the while Lee had a venomous grimace from ear to ear. I could see black tarred teeth, boils too, and knew he’d also been possessed. Dylan sacrificed his own brother, the fecker was building an army. I ducked behind a table which held camera gear and asked Niall if they were close. When I saw his reply saying they still had twenty minutes on their journey, I knew it could be too late and we’d have five of those things recruiting more and more. All I’d need is for one to be taken by a ‘witch doctor’ from their side of the realm. We’d be screwed as they could open a huge portal, big enough to fit an army through. My legs ached with the position, but I was readying myself to pounce. I gripped my tourmaline stone so hard I thought it might open a portal rather than close them. This was it, time to confront them before it’s too late.
I turned to launch at the ginger brothers when my nose connected with Dylan’s.
“Hello, Father Jack!”
He laughed and his grin leaked out spit which dribbled onto his chin, but the worst was the stench, it was like a diseased rat had crawled into his mouth and died - a week ago. There goes my stomach, again. I didn’t get the chance to vomit, Dylan picked me up like a ragdoll and tossed me into a filing cabinet perched against the wall. My shoulder hit it first and an old wound got lumbered into the metal, causing a dent in the drawer, the pain excruciating. My body slumped to the ground which vibrated through my lower back. I’ll be lucky if I can walk without a bone creaking tomorrow. I think I loosened a few teeth as I spat out a concoction of blood, spit, and dust I inhaled when I faceplanted the floor.
“You arrived just in time, Jack. I’m about to open three portals to allow my brothers and sister to reside in these whores for a time. My sister will then open a portal to allow my army to enter this privileged world. And you can also join me, stand by my side and watch us destroy your people.”
I wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand, the redness stretched from knuckle to wrist.
“Not on my watch.”
“Ha. You feeble man. You can’t even control your own body. This vessel is weak, its mind is weak. I do not fear you.”
Dylan turned and muttered his language again, whatever he said, I doubt it was of benefit to me or the world I live in. Sparks appeared in the air above each woman and colourful lightning bolts shot across the dark colossal room, it was like the aurora borealis reaching out across the top of the world. Holes opened and grew as the women screamed, but were muffled by the gags in their mouths, all three were awake now. Fingers clawed through the openings, desperate to enter the damaged souls being offered to them. Their nails long and black, strong enough to slice a throat into a gaping smile. I needed to act fast.
Lee stood mesmerised by the portals as Dylan worked on keeping them open. I got to my feet, still a bit woozy, and lunged towards Dylan from behind. He fell and lost the crystal in his hand, it went spinning off into the darkness at the edges of the room. Screeches came from the portals as they began to close, one closed quicker than the other two and three fingers fell to the floor, sliced right off at the proximal phalanges. They don’t have a fourth finger, weirdos. Lee raced towards me, spitting through his gritted teeth, and punched me right in the gut, he knocked the wind right out of me. I thought a lung would expel from my mouth at that moment, the alveolus pulsating because of being wrenched by my breath leaving my body so fast. Dylan brushed the dust of his clothes and went back to opening the portals.
‘Shit, I’ll have to use the big guns, so.’
I didn’t want to hurt them, but this was desperation. I removed the carton of salt from my pocket and threw some at Lee’s face. Once it touched his skin, Lee hollered as smoke elevated from his face and then his hands when he placed them on the affected area. I didn’t have a choice. My foot swiped his legs and he went down hard, unable to see, salt in the eyes will do that. Dylan charged at me with his hands outstretched towards my neck, I had to show no mercy despite him being our newest team member. We fell to the floor and I endured immense pressure on my throat, I gasped trying to inhale. No air was getting in or out, I didn’t have time to think. My hands went to both pockets and I retrieved salt and my stone. I pushed the crystal, which was a little jagged, right into his eye and threw the salt. His grip eased and I pushed him off as I sucked in the air and coughed it right back out again. I could do with a cigarette, and soon. With both men on the floor nursing their wounds, I leapt up and opened the straps of the women bound to the tables. I wish it was over now, but Dylan and Lee were possessed by strong entities which needed to be removed. On the last strap, a creaking sound came from the back of the room. Oh, I hoped it was Father Niall and the team. One I can handle, but two of these feckers would be a battle and a half. Dylan floated from the ground, like there was no gravity in the room. He looked pissed and wanted to tear me limb from limb. Oh fuck! A roar and a growl bellowed from Dylan and he stormed at me.
“Oi, you, leave him alone,” came a voice from the dark end of the room.
Dylan wasn’t stopping, his foot cracked the weak concrete under his heavy stomps, and he held out his hands again, determined to take the last breath from me.
Out of nowhere, Big Blue Tits thundered towards Dylan and bounced her big cahoonas off of him, like running into a rubber ball. Dylan didn’t know what the fuck happened as he flew back into the wall. This woman was not to be messed with, so I kept my distance and let her rip. She held two fists together and walloped Dylan on the head before he slumped to the ground, his eyes found it difficult to focus. She ran over to comfort the girls who were clearly distraught and in shock after their ordeal.
“Can you take the girls upstairs?” I asked, “I have to clean up this mess. Oh, if you see a group of priests, send them my way.”
“Are ye fucking joking?”
“Do I look like I am?” I winked and closed my hand in prayer.
“Oh, good fuck. I..I.. didn’t realise, Father. Sorry, Father.”
“It’s okay, I was undercover to catch these guys.”
I turned to see Dylan struggling to stand and Lee still crying into his hands with his demon screaming into an abyss.
“Is there another way out of here?”
“Yes, there’s a fire exit way down the back of the room, but plenty of steps up.”
She left supporting one of the women’s frame followed by the two other women.
I wheeled two tables over to the despicable men, still dazed and hurt, and helped them on. Before they realised what I was doing, their wrists and ankles were tied tightly.
“What is happening, let me out of these,” demanded Dylan.
“Not on your nellie, man. I have an exorcism to do.”
I removed the crystal from my pocket and rubbed it until the sparks and colours appeared. Dylan resisted and the table wobbled with force, his face distorted with the demon inside him wanting full control. Lee tried to bite his straps; his teeth were about a hundred centimeters away. It seems his demon didn’t play with a full deck of cards.
“You will pay for this, human. It is not over. We have a demon army ready to enter and destroy your realm. You will be mine to slay,” said Dylan’s demon.
The portal above Dylan grew and I sprinkled salt around him. This was a much harder task to complete on my own. With the conditions set, the demon emerged by force by the suction. It held the edges, pushing against the inevitable. Its form stretched and entered the portal headfirst.
“I will get you for this, Father Jack,” he bellowed.
I gave a sarcastic wave and smirk, “Best of luck with that, I’ll be waiting.”
Niall clambered through the door just as the last of the demon was sucked through the portal. He took the crystal from my hand and started the same process on Lee.
“Dylan, how are you feeling? You’ve come out the other end of this with only a few boils to heal. You’re extremely lucky.”
“Oh Jesus, Father, I felt trapped in my own body. I could see and hear everything I was doing, but I couldn’t control a damn thing.”
“No one blames you for this, Dylan. It was totally out of your control.”
“You don’t get it. It’s not over and is much worse than that. They’re coming, and I helped them. Forgive me, Father.”
“What do you mean?”
Dylan’s face went as white as a ghost and the pit of my stomach churned, churned like never before. I sensed something big was going to happen. Dylan cried and grabbed my jacket.
“Please, I’m sorry. Forgive me, Father.”
To be continued...
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About the Author:
S. K. Gregory is an author, editor and blogger. She currently resides in Northern Ireland.
“Description begins in the writer’s imagination, but should finish in the reader’s.”