Sympathy for the Devil - Reader X Ghost - Nameless Ghouls & Papa

Ch 6 - Full moon

As a full moon beamed down upon the dark church gardens, a gentle wind played with the flame of my candles. Each flicker licked the slowly dripping wax, creating white streams that hardened quickly as they met the cold night air.

I had placed them on as many surfaces I could find; the doorstep to the main entry point, the stone window ledges, grave markers and grief benches, along the pathways right up to the gates.

Golden embers to welcome any straying passengers into Satan's arms.

Although I wouldn't want to be caught wandering during a night like this.

Myths and fables could never truly capture the wonder and power of a full moon cycle. I felt it in my core, more so than I did during my first lifetime. The unrelating pull that tugged my tired body, like gravity, only less one dimensional. A marble orb that thinned the veil between realms, allowing madness and sin to wreak havoc on earth.

I knew all too well that it was better to be alone during these periods. Who knew what mischief - human or ghoul - was afoot.

Hazy smoke danced around the glowing space I had created. Weeks prior, I had crafted some patchouli incense sticks for the Ghuleh and kept a few for myself too. Tonight seemed like the perfect excuse to use them.

A ritual for one.

Even before I began my incantation, the smoke began to swirl around the church gardens. Grey ribbons danced along the stone floor and drifted into the branches of the leafy canopy above.

I instantly knew I wasn't really alone.

My lungs stretched as I breathed in deeply. Cold air seemed like a blessing to my insides, which remained charred from hell's flames. I had no idea how limited my time on earth would be, so I chose to find the pleasure in small graces. Bathing in the moonlight gave me a profound sense of renewal, one that made me proud of my position within the church.

But, I still had questions.

Following my meeting with the cardinal, I simply could not understand why the Ghost project had been left to squander under Papa 3's egotistical reign.

Every opportunity seemed to fall flat, even a Grammy nomination displeased the Clergy. Music was played, Satan was worshipped, but congregation numbers dwindled and the accompanying secular haze that fell across the political landscape and popular culture started to slip back into conservative territory.

It felt as if we were going backwards.

Surely Lucifer knew this, but if that was the case why was I not asked to intervene?

Floral trails from the snouldering patchouli sticks were swiftly over powered when I popped open a tiny vial of black, volcanic sand. Pinching the smallest bit between my fingers, I began to sprinkle the grains over the flame of a nearby candle. Fizzing sparks turned to thunderous roars as the soot came into contact with the fire.

Immediately, hell's stench encroached on the blissful setting I had created. Tar, sulphur and charcol filled my nostrils. The cold air that had once clensed my lungs felt thick and heavy.

Recoiling from the intense reaction, billows of dark shadow circled my body.

It was all of my own doing, I needed answers.

"Satanas, our Unholiness, The Dark Architect of the Divine. You know my concerns, you see through my soul for it is yours to bend at will. Help me to understand your course..."

The silence of the empty church gardens only amplified the lonliness I felt. Lucifer's whispers were no where to be found.

"Forgive me, father, for I know not where my fate lies. I seek to know my role, to understand how I can ensure the Ghost project reaches its full potential."

Twirling patchouli waves danced with the black sand smoke. A war of wisps rose into the open air.

Looking up to the full moon, I couldn't help but feel embarrassed that my calls went unanswered. The ghosts that roamed the church gardens could have been watching in the distance, mocking me. I would have done the same.

Silly little servant, desperate to please.

Eventually, I took a defeated seat on the church doorstep. My knees pulled up to my chest in search of warmth. Two candles flickered beside me, a pool of wax reaching out for my hand as I propped myself up against the cold stone.

"It is the human in you which seeks purpose..." the growl finally appeared.

I shouted into the darkened gardens, my frustrations getting the best of me. "I seek a purpose, to please you, Lucifer. To ensure your rightful place in the hearts and minds on earth."

I spun my head, desperate to see a sign, a physical manifestation of Him. But the empty church yard was all that surrounded me. Surprisingly, the candles held their flicker, still glowing strong as Satan's whisper flew over their wicks.

Before I knew it, the black smoke had all but drowned out the wafting patchouli incense sticks.

"In good time Y/N. You will soon understand. Here is not the time nor place to discuss."

Unsatisfied, the dark smoke lifted and I was once again left in desolation.

This test of faith left me out in the cold, both figuratively and literally.

Was I supposed to simply ride shotgun as Terzo crashed and burnt the church?

Moreover, why would the garden of a satanic church be an inappropriate setting to discuss Lucifer's deeds?

In my stubbornness, I stayed awake for hours, expecting a weary traveller to find my golden pathway. Alas, all that graced the church garden was the pitter patter of tiny rat paws.

I made it to 4am until the allure of the velvet lined pews became too unbearable.

Leaving the candles to burn outside, I slipped into the warm embrace of the church and lay flat on the central pew.

Sleep took me almost immediately, my back thankful for the opportunity to rest. As I lay below the painted arches of the ceiling, dreamy visions greeted me.

Drifting in and out of conscious, I felt an overwhelming sense of dread. A grey vortex opened in my mind, blurring the lines of reality. I was no stranger to gifted visions, but something about that night left me with a sense of unease.

I chalked it up to the full moon.

As I slipped into the dreamy void, I saw things I didn't fully understand. Terzo, slow dancing with a woman I'd never seen before - nothing out of the ordinary, I guessed. Although I suddenly became concerned when I noticed their dancefloor was covered in freshly spilled blood. The pair of them seemed transfixed on one another as I fell deeper into a dark abyss.

I tried to wake, but my body felt paralysed, detached.

My never-ending fall continued as a hand reached out for me. I could have sworn I saw the glimmer of a ghoul's mask but everything began to fade out.

It was only when the kind touch of a Sister of Sin roused me from my sleep that I realised I had been out for so long.

"Sorry to wake you, Sister. I couldn't help but notice the remnants of your ritual... Did He... Was He with you last night?" The young sister asked, almost starstruck at the thought.

Rubbing my eyes, still mulling over my dream, I decided to give her the reassurance I never received.

"He was here. No complaints, Sister. He is pleased with your work."

She all but fainted at my lie, squealing as she skipped over to the priest who was quietly preparing for mass at the pulpit.

When she left me alone, I lay back down and closed my eyes once more.