Devil's Tango (Quackbur)

Chapter 1

Thunder rumbled and lightning crackled as rain beat down on the stained glass windows of Church Prime.
More and more dark grey clouds rolled in until the previously inky-black sky was covered fully with clouds that sent down tiny spears of water- the raindrops were sent with so much force, they may well have been mini spears.
Anyone caught in this gale would regret it immediately or perhaps seek shelter, since it showed no signs of stopping.
The thunder rumbled more ferociously and, as lightning struck and illuminated the night sky, small veins of red were seen in the spaces between the clouds.

A deep, evil laugh pierced the night.

It all started with the shards of glass on the floor.

Quackity woke early, headed to the church, and was surprised when he stepped in something sharp.
"Ow!" he hissed, picking the shard of glass out of his shoe. It had gone right through the shoe and into his foot, which was bleeding a little.
Pain soon turned into confusion.
"Wait, what?"

Quackity glanced at the floor as a light breeze was blowing through the window.
Shards of stained glass littered the stone floor, and one window was completely gone, which explained the breeze in the church.
The shards were all in the same place, which supported his immediate assumption that one window had shattered in the night.
"Shit! Better get this cleaned up," he murmured to himself, ignoring the drip, drip, drip of excess rainwater sliding off the roof. The storm had gone on all night and had only stopped a few hours ago.

The sound of a door opening and closing reverberated through the echoey church.
Foolish.
"Hey, Alex, what are you doing?" Foolish asked, his heavy steps echoing as he made his way towards the scene. "Holy shit, what happened there?" he asked, surprised upon seeing the glass on the floor.
"No idea," Quackity said truthfully. "Came in and it was broken. My foot's bleeding a good bit as well."
"Hm. We'll have to investigate this. For now, though, you gotta come with me to the medic," Foolish said.

He was a caring man, Foolish was. Very religious, mind you, but he upheld many of the... better... values that Church Prime taught- he always helped those in need, he donated to all the charities he could, and he always looked out for people.
He was nice, but Quackity didn't feel any sort of special connection with him like the others did. He was just another priest.

Oh, yeah, Quackity was a priest.

He wasn't a bishop or anything, no, he was just your average standard priest for Church Prime, doing the average things a Prime priest did.
He led sermons, taught verses at schools, oversaw funerals and weddings, etc.
Nothing special.
Still, this phenomenon of a window shattering randomly in the night... that was something he had to look into.

You see, Quackity's life was pretty boring.
He had no SO, no family close to him, so he lived alone.
He'd been raised in a religious family, so he'd obviously gone into priesthood at the age of 19. Seven years had passed since then, and he couldn't remember one of them.

So... yeah.
His life was boring.

He wasn't much of a looker, to be honest (or at least that's what he thought of himself, anyway).
He had a sort of black mullet, but the top was always covered by his LAFD beanie he'd got as a present from his parents when he became a priest, and he usually donned basic wear. Robes were only for services and special events.

Quackity nodded at Foolish and allowed the other man to prop his foot up and help him get to the town doctor, wincing a little.

That night, Quackity lay awake wondering what had happened to the window. The more he thought, the less sense it seemed to make.
Wind can't break glass unless it's strong enough, and if it had been strong enough... why weren't any of the other windows damaged?
Why just that one?
Why weren't there any other windows that were damaged?
And why was there no shards left in the window frame?

It was too precise to be an accident, and Quackity decided he would do something about it.
Wincing a little as he got up (the wound in his foot was still relatively fresh), Quackity pulled on a raincoat and some boots before heading out to the church.
He'd stay the night to make sure that nothing else happened.

As he stepped out the door, the gale nearly knocked him off of his feet. Blustering winds tipped him to and fro as he rushed through the pounding rain, hood over head, trying not to get soaked to the skin.
The rain splashed on the damp gravel as he hastily unlocked the broad church doors and headed inside.

Quackity shook some of the rain off and pulled down his hood, then proceeded to take off his coat.
Discarding it on the floor, Quackity sighed. He'd come all this way, in the middle of the night, in a fucking thunderstorm, for what? A dark, empty church with nothing going on inside?
God, he was stupid.
Shadows danced and footsteps echoed as he took a closer look outside the window.
A crack, and the sky lit up for a brief moment. Another thunderstorm.
Even though he was able to get to the church previously, there was no way he'd be able to get out of it- not now- without being turned into a human lightning rod.

Guess I'll have to stay the night, he thought sullenly.
Just as he was looking for the most comfortable place to rest, a laugh echoed in the empty church and Quackity tensed up at once.
"Is anyone there?" he asked. "Show yourself, in the name of Prime!"
"I won't be doing it in the name of Prime. I'll do it in my own name," the voice said with a sneer at the end.
"Where are you? Show yourself, in the name of... whoever you are," Quackity commanded weakly, his confidence faltering in the presence of this overconfident person.
"Only if you summon me, I'll show you."

"Summon?" Quackity spluttered. "What are you, some kind of-"
He cut himself off and ended his sentence quietly.
"...demon?"
"You've figured it out, have you? Well done," the voice said in a mocking tone. "Now summon me."
"Why should I?" Quackity demanded feebly. "As far as I know, you're just a... a voice. You can't hurt me."
"Oh, but I have hurt you."
"What?"
"That's a nasty wound you have on the underside of your foot, isn't it?"
Realisation hit Quackity like a truck.
"Wh- you did it! Why?"
"That's where you come in. Summon me, and I'll explain."
"And what if I don't?"
"I'll continue smashing everything in this church until it is no more," the voice responded, deadpan as anything.

"...oh."
"What'll it be?" they asked in a jeering voice.
Quackity sighed.

"How do I summon you?"