CHAPTER Prologue, Father Jean-luc Delance
Sister Peterson slammed the confessional door. Her hips swaying in tune with her long brown hair as she stomped out of the church, leaving Father Jean-luc Delance behind. He winced as the ancient mahogany door bounced against its frame. The blatant disrespect to god’s house wounded him almost as much as Sister Peterson’s sin.
A sin they now shared.
Father Jean-luc remained in his confessional booth, not yet ready to face the world. She had come to him asking for help, for comfort, and he had turned it back on her. Unintentionally prescribing malice when he should have refuted her guilt.
Good job Delance, way to cock that up. Thought Jean-luc.
He needed to get moving. Bottle up his concerns and seal them away until the Archbishop could be called.
He patted his cheeks, lacking the will to rise. Gritting his teeth he slapped both cheeks. The pain drowning out his fears for an instant. He rose and exited the confessional, finding an empty church. Save for two children, sitting low in the nearest pew.
They held colorful gaming devices larger than phones, something they had told him was a “Turn”. The younger of the two, a girl wearing a yellow blouse with a blue skirt, nudged her older brother.
“Why don’t Sister Peterson and Father Delance get along? She is always crying after they talk.” She asked.
Her older brother shrugged her off, more focused on the “turn” and the game it displayed. The jostling caused his screen to darken and freeze.
“Ugh! I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he is Father Delance. Anyone named Father cock would be a screw up.” Said The older boy, sitting up in his seat.
“Hahaha! Father Delance is Father chicken!” Laughed the girl, quickly earning an annoyed sigh from the boy.
“Cock doesn’t mean chicken! It means penis!” Shouted the boy.
The girl’s mouth formed and O. Surprised at his exclamation.
Jean-luc placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.
“Deckard, is that any way to speak in the house of god?” Asked Father Jean-luc Delance.
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Deckard let out a strangled gasp, eyes going wide as he realized what he had said.
“Hhgggg. That’s just what your name means in French right?” Gasped Deckard. Bumbling his attempt at an excuse.
“No, Delance means the spear, it’s closer to Shakespeare than your vulgar interpretations. I wonder what your mom would say if she heard you speaking like that.” Said Jean-luc.
Deckard’s face shifted from fear to terror.
“Please don’t tell mom! Last time she caught me swearing she caned me! Please Father I’ll do anything.” Begged Deckard.
“It was scary.” Confirmed his younger sister, holding her “turn” up to cover her face.
Jean-luc made a show of looking around the church, finding the task somewhat difficult. There was not another soul anywhere in the room. Even the sidewalk outside of the church, visible through it’s windows, was devoid of life.
“Well then. I know exactly what we’ll have to do.” Said Father Delance, folding his arms across his chest with a solemn look on his face.
A litany of punishments raced through Deckard’s mind, his imagination ranging from a stern lecture to the FBI breaking into the church and arresting him.
“I can’t seem to find your mother. So it must be God’s will for us to…” Began Father Delance
His scowl seemed to burn into Deckard, making him wonder what abuse might be in store for the young boy.
“Pardon your French.” Finished Father Delance.
He winked at Deckard, making the boy drop his game and slump in his pew. His hand covered his heart and he feigned death, sticking his tongue out and slumping sideways onto the pew’s cushion. The girl chortled at her brother. Delighted at his faux schadenfreude.
Jean-luc chuckled, breaking any vestiges of tension between them.
“What game do you have today Lily?” Asked Father Delance.
“Oh it’s my favorite! You make all these flowers in the garden and then these bad guys show up and then the flowers eat the bad guys.” Exclaimed Lily.
She went on to explain how every aspect of the game worked, with Deckard interjecting to correct her. Most of it was lost on him, but he picked up enough to ask them questions. Delighting the two children with his interest. A minute stretched into a half hour and the children’s attention shifted away from him, landing on their games.
Jean-luc stood and stretched, careful to avoid disturbing the kids. Evening Mass would be starting soon and he needed to prepare. He patted his pockets, realizing he had left his pocket bible in the confessional.
Returning to the confessional, he noticed it was half occupied.
Someone must have snuck in behind me while I was talking to Lily and Deckard. He glanced at his watch, sucking air through his teeth as he realized there was ten minutes until Mass was scheduled to begin. He opened the door, and slid inside.
“I’m terribly sorry, but there is only ten minutes until Mass and I would hate to rush a confession. Would it be possible to hear your confessions after Mass?” Asked Father Delance.
“You have time to bang my wife but not enough time to do your job. Convenient.” Growled the man.
A shiver ran down Jean-luc’s spine, recognizing the voice as Brother Peterson’s. The man shifted on the opposite side of the confessional, and Jean-luc failed to comprehend the fuzzy motions.
A steel shaft ripped through the confessional veil. Withdrawing a second later to hook on the veil and tear it open. Jean-luc pressed himself against the far wall, watching in horror as Brother Peterson tore apart the confessional divider with a tire iron.
“Go to Hell!” He roared.
His hand rose, and Jean-luc saw the sparkle of gold plating.
BOOM
BOOM
BOOM
Jean-luc felt his robes shift. His mind racing as the shots failed to register in his mind.
He could not believe what was happening. Brother Peterson stood over him, a gold plated desert eagle in his hand. Complete with black tiger stripes.
“Can-ack, this wait. Cough, after… Mass.” He choked out, voice fading with the lights.
Darkness enveloped him.