Painfully

Amber felt it the moment she stepped through the threshold.

A burning sensation, not unlike the one she had experienced in the shower, rippled through her body. However, where that had been hot like water, this was scalding like fire-- no, like lava. Untouchable. Intense. She gasped, stumbling back into Christie's arms. The fire seared her, burned her, licked away at her very soul. Her eyes glanced wildly around the room.

So.

Much.

Light.

The congregation milled around the room, each person practically glowing. The light differed in intensity from person to person. Some, such as Christie's mother, glowed a warm yellow, while other's flashed as blindingly as the sun. A couple seemed to hold no light at all, seeming husks standing next to the brilliant streaks next to them. The crucifixes she had seen before pierced her eyes like hot needles, and images of saints glared down on her with heated eyes that seemed to follow her movements.

"Fuckkk..." she moaned, leaning on Christie for support.

"What is it Ambs? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Amber struggled to her feet. Her head began to pound as she took painstaking steps, supported by Christie's arm. People were beginning to stare.

"It fucking hurrrrrrtss...." Amber's speech slurred. She felt drunk, dizzy. What was WRONG with this place? What was wrong with her? It felt like her body was crying out in pain. She screwed her eyes shut, feeling a scream building inside of her, the burning sensation growing more and more intense, until...

Nothing.

Amber slowly opened her eyes. She was sitting next to Christie in the pew, on the far side of Maria. People were staring nearby, so she slowly choked out, "I'm fine, I'm fine." Christie and Maria looked relieved, as Amber slowly took stock of the room. What before had been an overwhelming pain was now simply a dull ache. Around the room were the same glowing points, but it was as though someone had dimmed them. Maria emitted nothing more the the smallest glow, and the brightest figures before shone with a localized intensity. Amber could stand to glance at them for longer periods before it pained her eyes, and the room wasn't quite so oppressive. Despite that, the images of the saints and the crucifix still struck at her vision whenever her eyes wandered near them, pangs erupting in her head.

Amber slowly lifted her eyes to Christie, leaning in to whisper "I think the book did something to me... I'll tell you later."

As she glanced more at the figures around her, she noticed varying reactions. The brightest figures seemed to ignore her existence, while those of more muted glow gave her the occasional glance. It wasn't until she noticed one of the husks leering at her body that she remembered how lewd her outfit was. She quickly theorized that those with less light were likely to gaze at her with lust. Interesting. Indeed, she noticed Maria casting the occasional glance her way, eyes flicking at either leg or chest height, sometimes lifting towards Amber's face before snapping back to attention in shame. Christie next to her appeared to emit no light, standing out against the ethereal nature of the rest of the congregation. Among all the rest Christie felt grounded, she was real.

As the service began, Amber settled in, determined not to stand out. She found herself filled with an irrational fear that these bright flashes would notice her. That they would find her secret and burn her. That if they knew what she was, that... that they would destroy her with holy fire.

The service began with a simple sign of the cross and a greeting as the priest approached the altar. Simple, a process she had done hundreds of times -- her muscles knew the movements by heart, the words were already on her lips.

But it wouldn't. Her body wouldn't. As Amber tried to perform the sign of the cross, her hand resisted her, cramping painfully. As she tried to voice an amen she choked, her words dying in her throat. She found she couldn't voice the name of God. When she tried to **** herself, she nearly shouted out 'Satan' instead, barely managing to cut herself to a whisper. Christie eyed her strangely. She felt the urge to spit at the mention of Mary, to laugh at the mention of the angels. She felt herself being controlled -- no, operating on some kind of instinct. It was as though a deep part of her, a new part, were railing against the service. The singing was as a cacophonous noise beating in her ears, making her both feel angry and fearfully small and pathetic.

And through it all, the glowing. The painful brightness. It seemed to intensify with the service, causing her skin to burn and her head and eyes to hurt. It got to the point where she spent the end of the service bent down with her head in her hands, pretending to pray.

It felt like an eternity before it ended. Amber rushed to her feet, practically pulling Christie after her. "We need to go, now."

Christie followed wordlessly, watching Amber with a frightened expression.

"Where are you going girls, slow down!" Amber turned as Maria approached them, painfully flashing her eyes past the crucifix. She groaned, her head pounding as she took in Christie's mother reaching out towards her. Maria took Amber and Christie each by the hand, walking them out of the building, but not before Amber noticed something strange.

As the priest stepped away from the altar, he changed suddenly. Where he had been the brightest by far during the service, as he left the altar his light vanished. Amber gasped as she saw his new form: not dim as Maria or plain like Christie, but black. The man seemed to be made of darkness, sucking in light and killing it somewhere deep. She didn't know what it meant, but her feelings towards the man changed in an instant. Where seconds before she had feared for her life if the man found her, now she felt strongly, incredibly attracted to his presence. To bask in the darkness, encourage it, cultivate it... it was an urge stronger than she had ever felt in her days at church. She wondered if this was what people meant when they described a "religious experience".

No matter how painful that service had been, no matter how oppressive the building was, as Amber buckled into the car with Maria and Christie one thought passed through her mind: she would be back for that man.