Walking Contradictions

OoC: Sorry if the title's a bit...uh...uncreative... Well, here it is. This may or may not be the only post you see from me in this round, so I hope you enjoy. And the best of luck to you, insaney. ^^

Light faintly streamed through stained-glass depictions of Christ’s birth, life, death, and resurrection, pooling in gentle, colorful swirls on the floor. Gilded candle holders lined the sides of the sanctuary, illuminating these scenes from the Gospels, casting them in an eerie glow. The low, mundane sound of a prayer being read filled the chamber. Today, the archbishop had arrived to oversee the day’s mass, an unexpected occurrence. The convent had been a bustling hive of activity with the sisters moving as quickly as possible to accommodate the archbishop and his entourage. And now, the voice of the religious leader reverberated sonorously, finishing the prayer with a solemn tone one might find in the eulogy of a funeral.

“E nomine patres et fili et espiritus sancti.*”

The gathering of worshippers repeated the invocation with a bland, monotone voice. “E nomine patres et fili et espiritus sancti.”

Reclining nonchalantly in the back pew of the sanctuary, a shadow chuckled. Emerald eyes gleamed as they ran over the religious supplicants and the archbishop who led the mass. Humans were pathetic—calling to a higher power in such a manner, as though God enjoyed the detached attitude. The incubus laughed maliciously to himself. He knew things about that archbishop, too. Things that would make every last one of those devout nuns cringe. Impeccable teeth flashed in a devious smile. Oh, how he’d relish the looks of righteous indignation and shock on all their faces if he stood up right this very moment and announced to the entire congregation the horrible sins of that man they all looked to as a holy leader. To impart to them the knowledge of his blatant imperfection and watch the gathering tear itself apart would give the demon nearly the same amount of satisfaction he received when he caught his prey. Almost as much.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t given an opportunity to act upon his desires, for the mass was complete and the nuns were dispersing, some back to their respective chambers to study the Scriptures—in Hebrew, Greek, and English—while some remained behind to converse in hushed, reverent tones with the archbishop, hoping perhaps to obtain a small shard of his seemingly infinite wisdom. The sun was setting through the windows, the shadows lengthening. That was his cue. Slipping silently out of the pew, the incubus’ eyes lighted upon one of the nuns hurrying back to her chamber. Sister Rebecca… He grinned and followed her.

She wound her way through the corridors of the convent, completely oblivious to the lurking shadow behind her. Keeping his malefic chuckles to himself, the demon enjoyed his game. Hunting the nuns of this particular nunnery was one of his more favorite pastimes. He could tell stories about many of them, the looks of terror and shame when they woke up next to him, realizing they were no longer virginal but unable to confess to anyone for fear of being kicked out of the convent. And many of them had nowhere else to go but to the streets. Everywhere he walked in this “holy sanctuary” he could see the ones he’d…given his little gift to. But none could see him. None. They were blind to the truth of their existence, weaving webs of lies and intrigue only to discover too late that they had entangled themselves too deeply within the strands to avoid strangulation. And he had been a part of it all.

Rebecca had reached the door to her room by now and had put a hand to the brass handle, casting paranoid glances up and down the hallway before hurriedly entering and closing the door behind her. He heard the sound of a lock click and smiled. Such temporary, earthly devices could not detain him. With a simple thought, hardly a concentrated effort, the incubus dissolved into thin air.

Inside her room, Sister Rebecca nervously shuffled through leaves of paper, not really looking for anything in particular. With a tremulous voice, she recited memorized scripture. “The Lord is my Rock and my Salvation. Whom shall I fear? Whom shall I…fear…?”

“Hello, Rebecca.”

Gasping, the nun whirled around, clutching the edge of her desk in pure fright. “Lu…Lucilius… I knew you were here… I could…sense you all through the mass…”

Emerald eyes smiled coldly with a hint of twisted amusement, as Lucilius moved slightly closer to his little mouse. “Then, you must know why I’m here.” He reached out a pale, black-nailed finger to trace along the sister’s jaw line, coming to rest just underneath her chin. She offered no resistance to his minor advances, which disappointed him a bit. The game wasn’t nearly as fun when it was set on such an easy level. “Why do you not try to resist me?”

“Perhaps I know you too well. All those nights I tried to resist…and nothing helped in the end.”

“Tut-tut-tut.” He slipped an arm about her waist and drew her away from her desk and into a more comfortable corner of the small room. “Oh, but you don’t realize the entertainment you’re causing me to miss out on. Could you…” Stopping when her back lightly brushed the wall behind her, Lucilius teasingly ran his finger down the side of her chest. “…resist just a little bit? I’m sure you’ll enjoy tonight so much more if you do…”

Rebecca’s breathing quickened in her lungs, and she felt her pulse rate increase. “I’ll...try…”

With a smile that was partly devious and all seduction, the incubus’ inquisitive finger slipped briefly into the nun’s sleeve. “You know, my dear…this habit those fools make you wear isn’t very complimentary to you, don’t you think? Wouldn’t you be much more comfortable if you were to…oh, I don’t know…remove it?” His eyes glowed, indicating it was a command rather than a suggestion.

Before Rebecca’s hands could move to take off her clothing as he wished, screams erupted outside in the commons area. Forgetting the sister for the moment, he dumped her unceremoniously onto the floor and slipped over to the door, cracking it open and peering curiously outside. There were bodies strewn sporadically over the stones, blood running in rivulets that crisscrossed each other to form an unnerving pattern. But there was no one in sight. With caution worthy of a timid rabbit, the incubus moved into the open-air commons, eyes shifting constantly to determine just what had caused such a disturbance.

If some other upstart fallen is encroaching upon my territory, I swear upon all things unholy that I’ll tear him apart with agonizing slowness.

*In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

"E nomine patres et fili et espiritus sancti."

The dry monotony of chanting rose sleepily from the gathering. All seemed to be entranced by this, allowing themselves to part lips and drowsy eyelids just to utter these words meaninglessly. The voices that were born lived and died at the same tone. The way that the words were muttered seemed to hold no meaning, no sense of emotion. The faint light from the outside never put any effort into brightening the sanctuary - instead, it added to the dull atmosphere, filtering calmly through the stained glass, causing the dust in the air to glitter slightly in the beams, acknowledging the soft glow’s presence.

However, in the eyesight of one, slivers of silver silhouettes overlapped and slithered on a velvet cloth backdrop, their monotonous mutterings ignored by her overwhelming hunger. She had not fed in days, so a feast such as the occupants of this convent would prove a satisfactory one. In the midst of the congregation she stood, her pale pink lips never parted to speak the dull words around her. No effort was made to blend in; she even kept Hellfire with her, in its own place, the scabbard against her back. Standing still as the world revolved around her, eyes sifting through the silhouettes of those who stood in the gathering.

Perhaps it was her search for a quick and easy soul to reap that kept her there until the occupants of the mass dispersed, or perhaps she was just waiting until she could pick them off, one by one. Either way, the numbers in the congregation began to fade away. The people headed back to their homes, or to wherever they had to be and the nuns shuffled off to their individual rooms while those that remained behind consulted the archbishop in hushed tones and silent gestures. After a short time, Aisha alone remained in the seating area, observing the few nuns conversing softly with the archbishop at the front. She moved casually, her boots making those knocking sounds that echoed throughout the pews.

The archbishop seemed to be occupied with the nuns, and paid no attention to her approach. His attention was soon caught and drawn to her, however. The sweet scraping of Hellfire being pulled from it’s sheath filled the room. The nuns had no time to react; the Orihalcon had already been forced through neck and bone. The archbishop's eyes widened, and his lips parted as his garbs were splattered and stained with the crimson fluid that had once belonged to those that now lay dead on the ground.. He backed away as Aisha walked towards him. One would have expected him to shout, scream at the top of his lungs for help. But no, his lips spoke words of prayer that would not save him. His soft words of prayer ended abruptly, his soul taken from the now dry shell.

His punishment for the unholy things he held secret.

Aisha felt a warm embrace as her hand met with his soul melding with hers. Her blank eyes gleamed for a second before returning to their dull state. Her hands at her side, she put one foot in front of the other casually, making her way through the convent corridors. Her sword’s tip brushed against the hem of her dress slightly as the blood ran down the blade and dripped periodically on the stones. Like pebbles thrown from Hansel and Gretel’s fingers, the drops led all the way back to her first murder in days, her starting point.

The halls were almost empty now. There were none but a lone nun just beginning to turn the doorknob to enter her room. Feeling a cold shadow over her, the nun spun around and looked directly at Ai’s face.

“Oh, hello.” She smiled quaintly, not noticing that the person she spoke to held a sword soaked in the blood of her archbishop. Ai said nothing with her lips, but her eyes held a blank stare over the woman. The nun’s smile faded because of Ai’s reaction, or lack of it. Her eyes slowly fluttered down, and wandered towards her crimson soaked blade.

“Hello.”

She screamed suddenly, allowing Aisha’s blade to be rammed into her open mouth, severing her scream and splitting bones and skin. The woman stumbled backwards as her last breath escaped, her soul being ripped from her flesh. Blood spewed from her mouth, lips and neck as she fell to the ground with a thud. A door creaked open; another nun had appeared to investigate the sudden scream. But, as quickly as she had entered, she found herself gasping for breath before Ai’s blade continued it’s heartless journey through her neck.

Ai glanced at both bodies on the ground, their blood seeping into crevices of the stones. She stepped over them as if they weren’t there, sheathing Hellfire at the same time. With the sound of another door creaking open further ahead, Ai slipped into the room where the last nun she dispatched had been, wanting to catch her prey by surprise. But, no one walked past. Not even a shadow slipped by.

Aisha stepped out of the doorway and looked down the hall. Her eyes fell on a handsome, emerald-eyed individual. His eyes stood out, his complexion pale. His skin seemed to glow in contrast with his dark garments and long, black hair which framed his face. He wore a dark emerald shirt, along with dark overcoat which hung about his knees and black trousers that fell contentedly upon his black shoes. The overcoat had a high collar, concealing the sides of his face slightly. In spite of his striking appearance, his green eyes held a sort of anger as he glared at this girl who had trespassed on this territory.

The person standing in the open seemed intent on doing something he might regret.