Another Day, Another Visit

“Why do you continue to come here each day?” Theo bluntly asked the first Witness, as the other survivors in the church picked up the food trays and began to carry them back to the church.

“Honestly? The conversation prospects for one. To try and find a more peaceful resolution than opening up a portal so corruptive that these grounds would be resanctified, you yourself would be twisted into feeding a communion of damnation to your eager sheep. And your flock would become those of another Lord in waiting.” The Witness responded with an uncomfortably calm and genuine candor that caught father Theo off guard.

“You couldn’t. Your kind can’t even step foot upon these sacred grounds.” Theo stammered in offense in response.

“I’ve been genuinely and downrightly diplomatic you do realize.” The first witness sighed, sipping gently from his coffee cup. “We may have the journalists, the emergency services, and some of the public in our ranks. Even without them we could just blow up your sanctuary from here. Frame it as a gas leak, cover up all our loose ends discreetly. But I only have so many hours in the day.”

Theo rolled his eyes, feeling a strange impatience, awlward insecurity, yet reluctant acceptance for what he perceived as feigned remorse, and honest truths.

“My Lord, the one I answer to, might send something worse. Something less reluctant. And you, you could be destroyed. Or worse. Reduced to just another simple, sex crazed fiend.” The Witness then casually added. “In the meantime, I show up here, offer provisions, ask only a chat. And offer dislogue and opportunity.”

“I would sooner be destroyed than get turned into some fiend without boundaries.” Theo indignantly replied, awaiting the last food tray to be collected impatiently. “You’re the ones who chased people here, hunting them like quarry to torment and twist without consent. Burning one of them alive some how!”

“We have our boundaries. Set by the subconscious contract of society.” The Witness quickly disclosed raising a finger. “The collective human psyche puts us beyond perceptiin of those who are not adults. No child can see us, nor be touched by us in any wrongful way. More than could be said for the long list of clergy victims.”

Theo glared angrily at the Witness."Bullshit." Theo spat, unrepentantfor the word venomously slipping between his lips.

“What changes we bring, who we affect. It is entirely not just within the will and discretion of the individuals. But clearly not revoked in full.” The Witness added, exhaling deeply. “It’s those same rules that make it harmful for us to step foot upon your welcoming grounds.” The Witness continued his voice growing sarcastic. “There are parents who tuck their children into bed at night, before engaging with whatever guests they have through the night, to then see their children safelyboff to school come morning. BEHOLD THE POWER OF BELIEF! For that holds more together of this reality than heaven or hell could ever tear away from it. We are all bound by social contracts, both explicit and vague. Written and unspoken.” Standing up the Witness spread his arms wide, slowly spinning around as if just praising existence.

“Heed my words, and advice. For much like yours. They can hold more weight than any may know.” The Witness finished ranting only to smirk at Theo shaking his head as Irene grabbed the last food tray.

“Here I thought it was my job to deliver soul saving sermons. Many of which warn of the devil’s deception and trials of temptation.” Turning to walk away Theo couldn’t help but shake his head, dismissing the demon’s words.

Getting back to the church doors he looked over the gathered survivors.

“Where is Matthew?” Theo asked noticing Fred alone blessing and sanctified the food trays everyone had helped carry in for a change.

“We were letting him get some sleep after his late night on watch.” Irene volunteered innocently. She had spent much of the night up with him, cuddling on the church steps when not circling the building on patrols. She had parted ways with him just before dawn when he was expecting to be relieved from watch by Greg.

No one had any clue as to the time they’d spent together, Irene seeming not just well rested, but more on top of her game helping than any day before. Her proactive actions being appreciated, and welcomed by the others.

All as the patrol the night before plagued Matthew’s sleep, his mind lost in the quagmire of thoughts and visions of Judy.

Of him losing himself fucking the demonic police officer on all fours, pulling out to paint her back with his cum… Only to have Irene swallow it, her eyes glowing green as his now clawed hand grabbed her head.

The dream continued, feeling ever more intoxicating as he flung her on her back, fucking her as per the officer's orders, as Irene’s cries were muffled by a pussy.

As Irene’s body began to twist and change Matthew jolted awake, haunted by Irene’s voice and the only words he clearly heard her cry out in the dream.

A loving decree, “I want our souls to be together!”

Scrambling to get dressed, Matthew tried to consider the potential and meanings of the dream. He had heard the tales from the people who escaped the hotel of the haunting thoughts, images, objects and influences they had experienced.

Perhaps this was just his, a lasting affect resurfacing from the night before.

His mind lingered on how Irene’s actions had indeed dispelled the images and thoughts that had lingered after he almost crossed off the property. How the night was quiet, and almost romantic afterwards. Irene lovingly leaning on him when they weren’t walking the grounds, often hand in hand.

Matthew contemplated confession throughout the day as he set about the usual chores of the grounds. The busy work to keep them all from dwelling on the situation.

As he weighed asking for a confession he felt himself continually weighted by two things.

Irene’s warning about being seen as a weak link, and the unrepentent desire to feel her lips upon him once again.