Sorrow

The doors of the church opened, and the agent had stepped in. It was an old Catholic church with stained glass windows. The altar stood in the front, and the pews had lined the sides of the church neatly. That church smell of incense lingered in the air. The agent had looked around, but he had no idea what he was looking for. Was it the missing agent? Was it another one of those creatures? Was it somebody who could tell him what was going on? Did there exist a person who knew what was going on? All of these questions flowed throughout the agent’s head, and he felt a tad overwhelmed.

 

The agent sat down in one of the pews, but then he heard a sound behind him. The agent pulled out his gun immediately, but he lowered the weapon when he saw where he pointed. The figure wore a black cassock, and he wore a dark colored padre hat. The figure had a white beard that reach down to his chest, and his eyes looked dead on at the agent. Agent Matt had pointed his gun at a priest.

 

“I apologize,” the agent said.

“No, no, its fine,” the priest had said with a withered voice, “I’d be surprised if you weren't jumpy.”

 

The priest had proceeded to sit down with the agent at the pew, and then he sat silently for a few moments. It was at this point where he let these words out of his mouth:

 

“So what brings you to our little corner of hell?”

“Government business,” the agent said.

“I’ll cooperate however I can.” the priest replied softly.

“Was there an agent Gray here recently?”

“Yes there was. One of my parishioners was found dead here one morning, and the agent had came here to investigate.”

“Did you watch him investigate?”

“No, No I did not. I merely gave him the keys to the church, and I cancelled services of the week.”

“Do you know where the agent is?”

“I’m afraid I don’t. “

 

The priest had taken a look at the agent’s gun.

 

“Are you going go back outside with that thing?”

“As if I have a choice.” the agent said.

“Well you do, follow me.”

The priest had led the agent to his own office door, and then he opened it. The office was not the prettiest or the cleanest. Old photos had been scattered on top of the tables, and the priest’s desk had a laptop and a bunch of books on top of it. The calendar was marked with a messy red permanent marker.

 

“For a priest, you’re not much of a neat freak.” the agent said.

“We rarely are,” the priest responded back.

 

The priest sat down on his desk, and he opened up his drawers. He looked at one, and then he looked at another. He kept moving down the drawers in his desk, and the agent was beginning to lose patience.

 

“Can I ask what you wanted to show me?”

“Hold on. Hold on.” the priest responded, “Ah! here it is.”

 

The priest had placed a Smith and Wesson .41 Magnum revolver on the table. The metal on the gun looked shiny and well taken care of.

 

“Can I ask what a priest is doing with a big gun like that?” the agent asked.

“Lets just say I got some history.” the priest said, “It’s kind of hard to not have history when you make it to my age.”

“Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to find out.

“Maybe.” the priest said, “I’ll get some ammo.”

 

The priest ransacked his drawers again, and he pulled up a few boxes of bullets.

 

“Try not to get tinnitus,” the priest said, “If the monsters don’t drive you crazy then your ears will.”

“Are you sure you don’t need it?” the agent asked, “Don’t you have something to protect yourself with?”

“My child, I have lived long enough. I admit I would have rather died in Florida, but death rarely comes to us on our own terms. Why should I have been one of the lucky ones?”

“If i find some survivors, will they be safe here?”

“Who knows?” the priest said, “I’m not sure if anywhere is safe from those… things.”

“Do you have any idea where I can find the agent?” Matt asked.

“Like I said, I have no idea, but I imagine if this man is an agent like yourself, running around, shooting things, asking questions, then I’m sure you’ll probably run into him eventually...assuming he’s still alive,” the priest said.

“Assuming,” the agent replied back.

 

The agent took the gun off the table, and he proceeded to walk out of the office.

“take care old man,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

 

The End

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