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Raven Hood (and the Cloak of Azrael)
Chapter 5: Something's Out There...

Chapter 5: Something's Out There...

“What did you say?” I asked, leaning over to get a closer look. “Did I hear you right?”

“Back up off me, gargoyle!” Mickey spat. “Get away from me!”

“Do as he says, Revan.” Father Donovan said. “He’s dangerous. Don’t listen to his words. He’s just playing games with your head.”

But I didn’t budge. Ignoring the rancid breath, I took a knee and crawled halfway up on the bed before Father Donovan could stop me. Mickey reared back his gums again and tried scooting as far away as he could. I reached out and put my hand on his forehead. The vampiric faun wheezed and closed his eyes as if I were about to electrocute him.

The hair was soft and still damp from the barrage of holy water. I petted him between the eyes like I would a cat. At first, he hated me for it but I knew the pettings would get to him at some point.

Slowly but surely, Mickey’s demeanor softened and I felt him leaning more into my scratches.

“Oh, oh, that’s the stuff. Don’t stop.” Mickey’s foot began to shake like a dog's, his mouth turning into a satisfied smile.

I looked over at Father Donovan. He was reaching out for me, about ready to stop whatever it was that I was doing but now was stunned. He watched me rub my thumb on the nose of the monster for a few minutes before Mickey interrupted it.

“Alright, alright, you’ve calmed Old yeller,” he said. “Priest, you were right to purchase this Gargoyle for your biddings. He’s not as bad as his race goes I guess. Still, don’t tell anyone I said this, alright? This is between you and me. I’ve got a rep to hold ya know.”

“What’s he talking about?” I asked. “What’s all this talk with gargoyles?”

Mickey looked at Father Donovan, then at me, then back at the exorcist. “Holy shit, don’t tell me,” Mickey said. “Don’t tell me the little prick doesn’t know.”

Father Donovan didn’t say anything.

“Oh, shit, really? Oh, boy, this is gonna be a much bigger sit-down talk than the one you got about the birds and bees, kid.” Mickey elbowed me before letting out another scream as Father Donovan sprayed him once more with the Jesus juice.

“For fuck’s sake, stop!”

“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked Father Donovan, not taking my eyes off him. I could only see a blurry version of his face, but I could still make our anxiety there. “What’s going on with me, father?”

“We’ll talk later.” From the deep, grave tone of his voice, I knew I wouldn’t be getting anything more from him until he was ready to.

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I thought about prying more into this but figured it was best just to wait until we were both back at the church. Sighing, I said, “What do we do with Mickey?”

“I’m still working that out,” Father Donovan said. “While you’re here, I guess there’s no harm in helping me.”

“Yes!” I said, pumping my arm. Finally, something to take my mind off me losing my fourth tooth and getting hit by a bus after causing $20,000 worth of dental damage to a murderer who didn’t even know he was a murderer yet (well, more like manslaughter at this point but whatever.) “What can I do?”

“Go over to my bag and-”

Father Donovan stopped speaking and spun toward the window. I looked over his shoulder but saw nothing. I was just about to ask Father what had distracted him when my ears picked up on the soft clatter of footsteps on shingles.

“Who’s out there?” I whispered, but Father put a finger to his lips to shush me while keeping his eyes glued to the window.

I looked back at Mickey to see if he had any clue on what was going on. The cursed faun’s eyes were wide and the iris jolted with each of the steps coming from outside.

He hears it too, I thought.

Despite being inches from a goat who wanted nothing more than to suck my blood, I was more afraid of what was to come. I don’t know why, but my instincts were barking from deep within me, telling my ass to get the hell out of Dodge. Something was out there and wanted to be inside with us. By the sound of its silent steps, it didn’t want us to know it was coming.

“Revan,” Father said, raising a hand to grab my attention. “I’m going to make you a promise.”

“What’s that?” I replied, trying to sound just as collected as he.

I saw his Adam’s apple jiggle as he swallowed. “Listen carefully. I want you to run down the stairs, out the back door, and make for the wooden gate. It’s seven feet tall but I’ve already placed a getaway handle. You’ll see it easily as it’s just a rope connected to the handle. I’ve weighted the other side so just grab the handle and use it to scale the fence. You’ll find yourself in an alleyway of gravel. Go to the left and run all the way down to the first street. Take off one shoe and throw it as far as you can to the right while you take another left. Take the long way home. Once at the church, go to your room and lock the door. Don’t close the shades but keep them open the way they were before you left. Go to the back of your closet and squeeze behind all of your clothes. Are you following me, Revan? This is serious. This is life or death.”

I didn’t say anything and I couldn’t raise my eyebrows higher than they already were.

“Are you listening?! Pay attention dammit.”

I grimaced. Until now I’ve never heard Father Donovan use a single swear.

I nodded.

“Good. At the back of the closet feel all along the back wall with the back of your hand. There will be a bubble in the paint at your shoulder’s height. Press hard against it and keep quiet as the closet will swivel to give you access to a safe room behind your wall.”

“Safety room?” I said. “Like one you use to hide from an intruder?”

“Exactly,” Father said. “And don’t you dare touch anything.”

“Why not? What’s in there?”

Father Donovan sighed. “Stuff that could kill your kind with a single prick of the finger.”

He walked over to his black bag resting on a dusty chair and knelt beside it. He opened the lid of his Holy Water and placed it on the ground close to him. He then unbuttoned the two silver knobs of his bag and began to rummage through it. A second later he hoisted out an oblong object I couldn’t make out.

I walked closer and gasped. “Is that a crossbow?”

“No,” Father Donovan answered, pulling two wooden arrows from his bag. “This is our savior.” He dipped the tip of both arrows in the Holy water, placing one arrow on the already cocked crossbow and another between his teeth.