All the blood rushes to my head. My heart drowns away into a sea of black dots and ringing static, and I feel weak inside, knees wavering like paper.

The killer went into the dorms. Unless they escaped through the window, it's someone in the church.

I release a ragged pant. Someone could be dead on the other side of that door.

I want to run. Yet, something is calling me forward. It's just like that beautiful music that night – the pied-piper of fate lures me forward. This person is trying to involve me. And I am supposed to be the savior of this church. I can go ahead and hide, but it will catch up to me. There is no running away from this. My legs feel too weak to move, but they are moving.

This is my destiny. My duty to solve.

I've never been more afraid in my life, but I know I have to greet whatever Hell awaits me on the other side of that door.

My hand fumbles toward the doorknob. It's cold. Icy. As if tainted by the cold-blooded nature of the killer. I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head. If something goes wrong, Apollo will protect me, right?

Deciding just to get it over and done with, I thrust the door open.

I am met by eerie stillness. Panels of moonlight glare through the corridor. I scan the doors; all looks in order until…

I freeze. A lump slithers through my throat.

My bedroom door is open.

The ghastly moonlight illuminates a presumably corpse-like sickness upon my skin. Dread crawls upon every inch of me, and, somehow, I am hit by a premonition. A cold sweat trickles down my forehead; blood is roaring in my ears. I know what's coming. I know what I'm going to see before I've even opened that door.

My soul leaves my body as I thrust the door open.

The mattress has been thrown aside. The Lupine book sits open, bundled like a dreadful little present upon my pillow.

My breathing quivers.

They know.

My knees are weak. I sink to my bed, struggling to stand all of a sudden. My teeth begin to jitter – they know I've been reading about matebonds. It hits me individually each time, each blow harder than the last. I dig my fingers into my arms, wanting to yell; they know, they know, they know, they know!

My stomach knots. Aching anxiety rips through me. The killer knows my sin – feeling entirely naked, I am scorned by Apollo's scornful daylight. I huddle my shoulders and make myself small. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?!

I grimace. My hand starts to shake as I reach toward the book. I feel so exposed I want to puke. What awaits me inside?

It's professional looking cursive – a far cry from the erratic-looking handwriting of the other night. The words tear through me like bullets.

"Lorelei, you've been very naughty, haven't you? You better be careful. Something bad will happen to you if you get caught.

PS,

If you want to find something out, you should look into Terry Shovel.

I stare at the page for a moment. Then, I jam my nails into my mouth. I'm not really taking in the second part; I'm too stuck on the first. Is that a threat or a warning? No, there's no way that isn't a threat – they're a damn killer! My teeth cut through my nails like freshly trimmed grass; what do I do?! Will they rat me out?

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Wait. What was that second part?

I cringe as I read the page. Terry Shovel. He's… really weird. Sometimes, he just stares at you, but when you catch him, he keeps staring at you, dead in the eye. I don't know much about him – he hasn't been here long. We have two branches of the church so far, and he transferred from the other to here, which is strange because it's very hard to get in and out of this church. I don't know why we keep building in the middle of nowhere – if we want to expand, we should go into the big cities, right?

I shake my head. No, I need to focus on myself right now. I can't be getting caught up in their little games; first and foremost, I need to figure out what to do to protect myself. I've had my time to freak out – now I have to figure out how to act.

The page is ruined. They wrote it as big and boldly as possible so that I can't just tear up part of it. But… is it even a good idea to destroy the page? Their handwriting could be handy. My hands clam up just trying to think of trying to hide it. I reach my decision quickly: yeah, no way am I keeping it. I'm dead if it gets found. Larious already hit Miranda with some threats about dungeons. And if I tear it up… well, it's like the sin never happened. It was just a little chapter that scientifically explained how to trigger mate bonds. Come to think of it, why wasn't it destroyed before? If I did it, it would probably just seem like a priest destroyed it. I could maybe stop it from swaying some other innocent soul.

I lick my lips. I know what I'm about to do is wrong. But I want the sin gone and any evidence of it destroyed. Already, I feel so vile being confronted by evidence of my wrongdoings. I make sure to engrave every curve and loop into my mind. I don't know if it'll be any help – either they can change their handwriting freely, or it was written by an entirely different person.

I count when the chapter ends. I decide just to act before the weight of my guilt consumes me further.

I tear the entire chapter from its hinges.

Ripping it is almost cathartic; each satisfying tear floods me with much-needed dopamine like a hungry man-eater ripping through flesh. I disembowel it so that no one stands any hope of reassembling it. No one will ever know. I'll make sure to catch this killer to make up for the progress lost with the destruction of my sin.

I take a deep breath. I feel better, yet, my skin still crawls with guilt. I pause, looking up at the ceiling. Would he know?

My heart sinks. Apollo.

He's my God. He knows what I do wrong, right? My brow furrows. Would he be disappointed in me?

I sigh. No, I have to pray to him. I have to apologise. Should I go to the confessional? No, no one can know of this. Can I just tell Apollo? That would be like cutting out the middleman, right? How do I even trigger a conversation with Apollo?

I start to wonder what I should do. There's a killer somewhere loose in this building, but presumably, there always has been. I don't think they can strike in the dormitories – there are too many people there. But what if someone is out of bed? I gnash my teeth. No, I don't feel good about getting anyone up. There's no real proof the killer was here. If I tell Larious, there's a chance he'll sniff out that I'm hiding something. Miranda would give me advice, but I don't even know if I can trust her. My stomach twists. Wow, that hurts to think.

Rex. I'll go to Rex. He'll know what to do and protect us. And I really hope that he will not rat me out. He offered us an out, so it should be fine, right? But where does he sleep? Will Ic know?

I exhale as my eyes narrow at the bedroom door. I just have to get out of the corridor and back into the main hall of the church. Then I can find Ic, and he can take me to Rex.

Easily done, right?

I feel vile as I rush through the corridor. The sin weighs me down like an anchor. If I die without confessing to this sin, my very soul is doomed. I must pray. I must get Apollo to protect me while I find Rex.

My heart riots as I push the doors open. I breathe a small sigh of relief – I have made it to Ic unharmed.

He sits in the very back row of seats, hunched lifelessly over the seat in front of him with his inky black hair sprawling over his face. Moonlight gently seeps from the stained-glass windows and casts multicoloured prisms like a halo above his head. It's true what they say – male Lupine are very beautiful. He seems to absorb all the moonlight, and his pale skin looks so vitalised with all that energy that it truly is a sight to behold.

He doesn't move an inch as I enter the room. His vacant eyes continue to gaze forward as if his soul is somewhere else. I need to pray. But in my right consciousness, I can't ignore him. I owe him an apology. And it would be far too easy just to see him as a background accessory just because he doesn't talk.

"Um, Ic?" I whisper, fiddling with my fingers. "I'm sorry for making that light. That was obviously upsetting for you. And I'm sorry for pointing that gun at your head. You were just trying to help me."

He doesn't look up. Someone could genuinely mistake him for being dead.

My brow furrows. I don't know if this person can talk. Rex said he wasn't sure if he couldn't or just didn't want to talk. I don't even know how much of me he understands, but just in case he doesn't want to talk, I have to try. I have to show him that I'll listen.

"You know…" I look down, a bit uncomfortable looking a Lupine in the eyes. "If you don't talk, you can't tell anyone what's wrong. Even if they want to understand you…" My eyes flicker over his slumped form. He looks so lifeless and depressed. "People just don't know how to help you if they don't know what's wrong."

Well, people should still make an effort to understand him anyway, but that's wishful thinking.

Of course, Ic doesn't answer. But he does sit back properly in his chair. As his hair falls back into place, I can see a troubled expression on his face. He turns and looks toward the door.

"Oh?" I follow his gaze. I'm just glad to have him respond to me in some way. "What is it about the door?" I then remember Rex having a bit of trouble getting him into the church. I note the longing in his mismatched eyes. "Oh. You want to leave, don't you?"

Ic's brow furrows. He sighs.

I stare at the empty seat next to him. That aura from his skin is softly electric; I feel nervous just at the idea of sitting next to him. That energy makes me tingle merely from being in his vicinity. "You know, sometimes, I also think about running away. But then I remember." I force a pained smile. "I'm the one who's supposed to lead our church to salvation. And I've never been to the outside before."

Some of the kids have been on the outside, but they never seem to adapt well to our rules. I've heard a lot of stories, a lot of scary ones, but a lot of cool things too. There's a lot of sex, drugs, and horrible things like poverty, but I've always wanted to be in a theatre or maybe perform in a concert. People don't always listen when I talk, but they do when I am singing. The thought of having so many people with their eyes on me… While it is scary, it's also thrilling. So many people could hear my voice if I performed in a theatre.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I swallow. I decide to take a seat next to him, but I keep a good amount of space between us. "But it's my destiny. It's not something I can escape from. Apollo would be angry at me for letting his church fall into ruin. In a way, it was kind of destiny that you were here too, right? I mean, you were here since you were a puppy. It was your destiny to hunt wolves as much as it was mine."

Ic grimaces. Crap, did I upset him?

I'm rambling. It's hard to keep a conversation with a guy who doesn't talk. "Hey, I know!' My voice perks up. "Ic, if you can't tell people what's wrong, why don't you try telling God about it? He can hear you! He can help you! You should try praying!"

Ic groans and his eyes flicker to the side.

That was a noise! A negative one, but a noise nonetheless!

"Come on!' I say, smiling. Just the thought of sharing my faith with such a godless creature makes my heart glow – I can counter my sin with a good deed. "Praying is great! God hears your sins and relieves you of them. And, best of all, he listens! He's like your own personal therapist!"

I reach out but hesitate before taking his hand. I shake my head – no, nothing happened earlier, it's fine. I take his wrist; Ic starts as I touch him. A gentle static ensnares the point of contact. With how pale he is, he looks like he'd be freezing, but he is actually alluringly warm. I feel a surge of energy tie us together like a ribbon. Even just touching a Lupine soothes my erratic soul.

"This is my favourite artwork of Apollo," I explain as I lead him forward. "I don't know why, but I've always felt like this one piece has a great energy. It exudes such a positive vibe that it makes me feel really warm inside. You can really feel God glow inside you when you look at this piece."

Prisms of gold bathe our skin. Ic looks at the artwork with an incredibly puzzled expression. He looks back at me. His eyebrows are raised, and then he furrows them again.

I look up and smile warmly as I am greeted by Apollo's big pectoral and sculpted torso. It depicts him bathing with the sun as a halo behind his head – it's a lot like my dream that night. I get a little dazed as I admire the intricate detail of his muscles; the golden palette of the glass invigorates me with warmth that surges through my core. "It's beautiful, isn't it? Some say it's cursed, but I disagree – it's clear the artist had a great deal of inspiration of our Lord."

Ic looks at me and scratches his head.

I get a little lost as I admire the craftsmanship. I can feel love for my God flow through my veins. It's not often that I get to look at this piece without looking suspicious. Maybe if I stare at it long enough, I'll be able to trigger another dream about Apollo where I can talk to him.

I start as I remember what I'm supposed to be doing.

"So, uh!" I cross my arms over my chest and mimic the shape of a sun with my fingers. I get to my knees and Ic hesitantly follows. "You just do this and talk to God about what's been happening to you. He wants to hear. Tell him all your sins. He'll forgive you."

Ic closes his eyes. A ray of moonlight shines upon him like a direct link to God. I smile to myself; it's really nice to see a Lupine praying like this. Maybe I truly can save this creature's soul.

I shut my eyes. This isn't just a demonstration for Ic. I feel my skin itch with sin. I have to cleanse myself and get Apollo's blessing before I can safely proceed through the church.

Apollo, please forgive me for reading that book. Perhaps it did taint my body in negative ways. I'm sorry for disappointing you.

I stay still and silent for a moment. My love for Apollo wells; I can feel my connection to God surge. My body steadily dips into a sense of purity, and I feel cleansed, as if I am bathing alongside him.

Suddenly, the door bursts open.

"Lorelei, what are you doing?" Larious asks.

My stomach lurches. I feel my eyes widen. I start to splutter as I slowly turn.

Oh, dear God. I was praying to the sexy stained glass, wasn't I?

I lick my lips. All of a sudden, the temperature seems to drop. Larious looks down his long, thin nose at me. This man is the polar opposite of Apollo; whereas my God is a warm, melting wave, Larious is a cold, slowly stirring storm. His grey eyes pierce me – they are windows to an icy, unfeeling soul. Yet, I feel the fire in them – the scornful gaze of a man who enacts judgement on his God's behalf.

Ic nearly jumps out of skin at the sight of him. He turns paler than a ghost. His chest starts fluctuating; the whites of his eyes devour his iris and his pupils shrink.

Hey, why are you so scared, Ic? I know he's scary, but surely this is a bit much, right? I swallow. You're supposed to protect me. You'll be able to do that if things go south, right? Right?

I then realise: Larious is on the move out of bed after a close encounter killer.

It could very well be him.

My stomach plummets as I search his eyes. He could very well know my sin with the frost they shear. Ic's fear is infectious; panic rises like water flooding through my lungs. God dammit, I should have got him to lead me to Rex right away! My hand shivers; I slip it into my pocket and smother the handle of the gun. Okay, I'm armed and he isn't. I've got a Lupine to protect me. Nothing is going to happen here! He may be strict, but he isn't a murderer!

I gnash my teeth. But why do I have such a dreadful feeling in my chest?

Larious' leather shoes click upon the flooring. His long white robes make him appear to levitate like some otherworldly being as he descends upon us. Ic backs away; his body hits the wall. He grabs onto the ornate wooden protrusions, chest heaving harder with every step Larious takes.

"Icarus," Larious says lowly. "My, it's been a while, hasn't it?"

Ic starts panting, tense as a statue.

Larious stops dead in his tracks. "Icarus, just what were you doing with Lorelei?"

Ic bares his gums. He shakes his head.

"We were praying!" I stutter.

"Praying? A Lupine?" Larious ponders. "Lorelei, Lupine are demons made by God to test human temptation. You cannot pray their evil nature away."

I find myself nodding swiftly. It is only in the presence of Larious do I realise how absurd my idea was. Nothing could ever prepare me for how charismatic and alluring Lupine are. My body tingles merely standing close to him. Anything more and he could lead my soul astray.

Larious peers down his half-rimmed glasses, his bottom lip stuck out in disgust. "And besides. Why would a creature like you need to pray for? Do you see the common mongrel uttering a prayer for the Lord?"

My features harden. For some reason, Larious' words really piss me off. "He is not a dog," I spit.

I say it without even thinking. My eyes immediately widen as I realise what I have done. Ic looks at me. I steal a glance back; fear still dilates his pupils, but warmth oozes through in the form of an electric blue.

Larious leers in utter disdain. His features are stony apart from the occasional twitching of his downturned mouth.

He looks up at the stained glass above me, the golden light illuminating his figure with much needed warmth.

"Lorelei, you seem to like this particular piece of art a lot, don't you? I've caught you staring at it a few times."

I swallow. A dirty feeling slithers across my skin. I huddle my shoulders, tucking my chin into my neck. I can't meet his eye. I'm too ashamed.

Larious inches closer. I can smell his breath. It's a ferocious mint that burns my skin. "Lorelei, you are hiding something from me, aren't you?"

My stomach pangs. Larious' eyes flare as our gazes snag; I feel as though a hole has been blown straight through my chest. Those eyes. Those goddamn eyes! They are an icy pierce more wrathful than God's himself! I have to look away, but in doing so, I radiate dishonesty. Shit! I can't keep myself from stumbling over my tongue!

Cold moonlight flashes off Larious' glasses and illuminates the taunt skeletal structure of his face. "I've been thinking. Lorelei. Perhaps being the one who worships isn't a good fit for you," he says.

I freeze. "What do you mean?"

I love my God. Perhaps a little too much. How can worshipping him not be a good fit?

Larious carefully chooses his words as if slowly sharpening a knife. "There is no hope for you. You were given a one-in-a-billion miracle of a gift, yet you chose to disregard our Lord's gifts and love with disdain for your own miracle body. You are sneaking around at night with demons and sharing our sacred rituals with them. You lust frequently, and worst of all, you gaze upon our Lord with desire."

I feel a shiver pass through my spine. My sins crawl like I am swarmed with insects. I am ice cold, yet burning alive at the same time. Cold sweat dribbles down my brow; the prisms of moonlight feel fluorescent all of a sudden, exposing my every sin for the vengeful Lord to judge.

I cower and splay my fingers in the shape of a sun across my chest. "Please forgive me," I whisper.

Larious gently lays a hand on my shoulder. "But there is still hope for you."

My head snaps up. The tears prickling my eyes momentarily cease. Anything. I'll do anything to be pure.

Larious' voice drops. "Lorelei, do not tell a soul about this," he warns.

I glance at Ic. I can tell by the low growl in Larious' voice that what he is about to say is in a secretive manner. Yet, he disregards the Lupine completely as if he is furniture in the background.

I nod quickly.

"There is no hope to resolve you of your sinful nature. Our only hope is to bend the rules so that they no longer apply to you. Lorelei…" Larious' nails grip my shoulder like a vice. "Here in the Helioist church we believe that those favoured by Apollo have been selected to become Gods. Darius was not just our leader. Within the higher-ups of the church, he was our God. And now, as the one favoured by Apollo, it is your duty to take his place. You must gain enough favour with Apollo until he shares his powers with you, and you must use those powers to protect us from the evil slaying our brethren in the church."

My eyes widen. Me? A God? No, that can't be right. Is such a thing truly possible? I don't remember worshipping Darius. Is Larious lying to me?

My heart starts racing – the thought is too enticing to think about the faults of what he said. If I could become a God, I could be free. I could absolve myself of my many sins. But the thought of being such an icon and so adored is scary. So many eyes would be on me – there would be even more pressure than there is now. Is this something I have a choice in, or was this decided before my birth? My heart races with excitement, yet my stomach knots with anxiety. Is it truly possible?

It is then I hear Ic utter a growl. He dashes between us and spreads his arms, baring his teeth.

His and Larious' eyes lock.

"Move, you damn dog, or I'll forcibly put you back from where you came."

Ic swallows and his growl wavers. I can see him shake at being so close to Larious, yet he remains rooted to the spot. He does a noble job at standing up for me despite his clear terror at Larious.

I put my hand on his shoulder. "Ic, it's okay."

Ic turns and shakes his head, looking at me with pleading eyes. He starts gesturing wildly.

"Ic, please get out of the way," I say firmly. "I have to do whatever I can to save my soul."

Ic's face sinks. He hangs his head and moves but not before shooting Larious a deadly glare.

I square my shoulders. "How come I've never heard of Darius being a God before?" I ask.

"Because he was only worshipped by the upper ranks. There are a lot of things you don't know about the church, Lorelei. Do as I say and it will all become clear to you."

I narrow my eyes. "And why don't you do it?"

"I don't have the charisma, Lorelei. I can't be an icon of worship – the church would die under my reign. And even if I wanted to, Apollo has never liked me. He'd never select me. But you…" Larious' charcoal eyes scan over me. "You have more favouritism with God than anyone else. And who am I to question His plan? If Apollo has plans for you, then it is up to me to make sure those plans are good for the church."

But I don't have charisma either. Why me?

"And what would I actually have to do?"

"You have to not be like Apollo. You must be a God that represents the ideals of the church. There will be people helping you make decisions behind the scenes."

"But you said I am beyond saving."

I scowl. Clearly, he doesn't think I'm a good role model.

Shadows flicker over Larious' features as he raises his head. "You will be shaped into one."

Ic stomps his foot. I look at him and his snarl intensifies; pure loathing blazes from his eyes.

I ignore him and touch my chest. I don't know that I have a choice. Larious told me I was beyond saving. Apparently, I was born a sinner. Will I burn if I don't do something?

"Can I talk to Apollo about this?" I ask.

Larious shakes his head. "You must never speak of this to Apollo, Lorelei. If Apollo finds out mortals are trying to get close to him for the sake of gaining power, he will be very angry."

I hang my head. I don't want to take advantage of Apollo's affection for me. Yet, every inch of me writhes with sin. I feel utterly contaminated. The idea of being free of my sins shines like a beacon of light. If I was a God, I'd be free of all of it. Free of the constant dread of being burning in Hell. Free of constantly feeling ashamed. Free to be me.

But something doesn't feel right. It seems like there's some bigger picture Larious isn't telling me about.

It is then the door opens. Miranda stands in the doorway, examining her nails with a smirk. Of course she's out of bed right now. Of course she's hanging about after a close encounter with the killer – every single time something happens, she is there.

"Becoming a God, huh?" she purrs. "Now that does sound interesting."