"NOOOOO!!!" came the scream moments later from within the church as Father James sank to the floor, tears beginning to flow down his face.
"Please, no... why?" He cried, jumping up and yanking at the chains, tring to free the most important person in his life- finally they gave way and both brothers fell to a heap in the floor, one gasping for breath, the other totally lifeless.
Within moments, the police and the paramedics had appeared, having to drag James away from his brothers lifeless corpse.
For the next two weeks the church remained closed, it was now a crime scene, James hadnt been allowed to get the body buried, because they had to wait for a post-mortem(honestly, I think the bullet hole is a bit of a give-away) but they had to do it anyway.
James had been repeatedly interrogated, always the same questions.
"Does your brother have any enemies?", Did you see anyone acting suspiciously?","Can you think of any reason why someone would want to do this".
James had no solid answers, he had no clue who hated his brother, he didnt even know who hated him and why womeone would do such a thing is anyone's guess.
A few days later, the church was re-opened, James had recieved a call from his arch-bishop, telling that he was sorry for his loss and that he didnt have to continue working , if he so chose.
"No, thank you, but I wont let some madman stop me, Kyle would never have wanted it and I want to honour his memory in the best way I know how."
"You are a truly remarkable man" came the response as the phone hung-up. James burst into tears .
The next day a woman came up to James before Twelve o'clock mass, a look of fear in her small, brown eyes.
"Father, can, can I talk to you?"
"Of course, my dear." he replied, trying to smile.
"Its... about your brother." James' heart flew into his mouth, he tried to hide his shock.
"Well on the day... you know?..., well I saw a man standing around outside, his first name is Owen, but I'm not sure of his second and I'm pretty sire he went inside before the mass." She looked relieved to have gotten it off of her chest, hoping any information she had given could help.
"Thank you." he replied, his face chalk white as he blessed the woman standing before him. And so she turned and left.
James stumbled from the church, light-headed and desperate for air. A multitude of thought were running through his mind, should he go straight to the police? and just who was this...Owen?
Ten minutes later he was in the police station, relaying all of the information the women had divulged.
James lay in his bed that night, trying to place a face to the name, only two came to mind. Then it hit him. Five minutes later and James was dressed and going to the police station. He opened the front door. Someone was already standing there.
That evening, the Dna results had come back from the body, some foreign DNA found on the body, a man called Owen Finston, a local building contractor who had wanted to build a block of flats where the church was located, ten years before. Ten minutes later the police were ramming down his door, another ten and he was in a cell.
The police turned up at the church to tell James that the culprit had been arrested, they were met by a horrific sight. He was dead. His face covered in blood, a number of puncture marks through his body and just like his brother he had been chained to a crucifix.
The police had captured the killer, but half an hour too late, his plan had already been fulfilled and that night he lay in his cell laughter echoing around him, a look of satisfaction in his cold, blue eyes.