Unholy Chapel

Chapter Two; Untainted Chapel

TW: Negligent Parenting, Mentions of Blood, Angst.

The family found that Evan enjoyed to sleep most of the time, eyes fluttering and breathing soft. He carried the bloodied and crusty Fredbear plush wherever he went, and it was still covered with his remains because no one could bear to wash it in case he didn't survive. When he did he latched onto it even harder.

This time Michael didnt torment his brother. Clara or Elizabeth often found him pulling at his skin in the bathroom or crying in his room. He rarely looked Evan in the eyes since something unknown was passed between the two brothers.

William would leave for work early in the morning and come home late at night. Papers for divorce came in and he signed them after reading them thoroughly. Sylvia didnt want custody which he was glad about. He became a single father of 4. He stopped buying clothes for his children, leading Clara to shrink some of her clothes for Elizabeth and get a job, and Michael to give Evan his oversized shirts, making Evan look like a smock in oversized tshirts and baggy sweatpants.

Elizabeth would routinely steal money from William for food and other necessities that she would give to Clara who would go buy it.

"Father, at some point you need to support your family besides just living with us." Michael heard Clara say. He heard mumbling and murmuring afterwards, the hushed speakings between father and child. Michael glanced at his two younger siblings to make sure they were safe playing with blocks before sneaking over to the kitchen where he saw William gesturing to Clara, back to him.

"...A Church? Why in the world would i go to a place like that?" William asked almost with a snap to his voice, causing Clara to clench her jaw and steel her bubbling anger.

"Because it could be good for you to just meditate. You dont have to believe in god, but we've started getting our food and clothes from their donations because you, an idiot of a man refuse to share your money." Clara said, the last part with one solid breath, anger punctuating words she meant to cut through to William.

William straightened his back as if to say he was offended and steeled his eyes on his eldest child. Michael swallowed as he watched Clara's reaction as she raised her chin. "Just go... just go once. Ok? You don't have to sit, you don't have to pray or participate, but the time to think could help. you have four children who are struggling in life because you refuse to take care of us."  Clara said with a stern tone of voice, something that came from William. 

Her Scottish accent was something that stood out in a primarily British household. it made most people laugh when William would talk at his workplace and then his tiny carbon copy would speak fully Scottish. Michael knew she was the favorite since they were kids. Even now, when William tsk-ed and waved his hand in agreement, Michael had to silently swallow the knowledge that his sister was the favorite.

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If William wasn't planning to go to mass on Sunday then he would have left early in the morning or done something to get out of it the night before, but no, he played with Clara, Michael, Evan and Elizabeth, and they fell asleep on the couch watching Immortal and the Restless. He woke up early the next morning and got into a formal outfit, styled his hair and Elizabeth saw a light purple rosary tucked in his pocket as Katherine had been a devout christian and very strongly religious. William was agnostic or Atheist, he didn't exactly believe that someone controlled actions and how a person was made. 

"If you brats are ready, we'll head out soon." William said, standing near the door, attire varying in shades of purple. Clara was in her wheelchair, in a simple formal outfit, a summer-ish length dress with a green pattern on it. Evan was in a sweatshirt and pants, Elizabeth in her favorite frilly dress that Sylvia bought her and Michael in his traditional garb of a grey tank top and darker sweatpants he stole from William, meaning they bagged by his ankles. Michael and William helped the two wheelchair-bound children into the car and headed out, turning into the parking lot for a massive beautiful cathedral and chapel. As William speed walked because Clara was rushing them for being late, he heard angels. 

He thought angels weren't real? why is an angel singing in the chapel? William found himself drawn inside, towards the clear and bright tones that reverberated through his body and mind. The tone was near-perfect, hypnotic, drawing the disheveled man inside as he looked for the source of the voice.

There you were, Y/N. the 22- year old lead cantor for the church. Light hit your face and made your skin glow, your hands flitting around the music on the pupil before you, lit up and delicate. Your eyes shone and your lips looked soft as you smiled at the incoming family. Your worried were alleviated and replaced when you saw the man that was with them. the 4 children had a parent (?) who was staring you down in your choir robes. You almost felt as if a predator was gazing at you somewhere in the large chapel and cathedral area. it plagued your mind as you finished the opening hymn and stepped away from the alter, sitting in your designated spot by the organ. 

You were a singer in your free time but you had a profession that came first. often times you wouldn't be able to practice chapel music until the morning or night before mass. you worked at a moderate-paying job, just on the crest of finishing college with a major in one of your favorite topics. You knew you probably wouldn't be able to use criminal psychology much in the job that you had, and you definitely didn't have the mentality or the strength to go into the police force. 

All of that brought you back to here, when the choir you sang with stood to sing the gloria. Your friend Wendy was next to you and was watching you as example as your voice rung out in equity with the other choir members. you felt that predatory gaze on your the entire mass, anxiety shooting up your legs and through your stomach, placing its feet on your diaphragm and the center of your chest. you weren't small or defenseless by any means, but you did look rather unathletic, with baby cheeks still strapped on when most of your peers lost them by 19. 

The rest of mass was spent with this anxious feeling as you went up and down to lead and to sing. 

At the end of the anxious prayer service, you searched for Clara and her family, knowing it always took them a while to leave due to the mobility aids. You reached them and caught your younger friend as she nearly slipped while climbing out of the pew while the man from earlier set up her wheelchair.

"Ms. Clara, you should be more careful, wait until your brother or sister set this up before you start moving. Or me" you grin playfully at the brunette girl, your own hair having lost some of the sheen that was on it when up on the alter just because there wasn't as much lighting here. You took a millisecond glance at the older man who accompanied them, finding that Clara was his carbon copy. "hello sir" you said briefly as Clara sat in her wheelchair and grinned back at you.

"you're a good friend, you know? you're even still in your choir robe, i know you complain about those being hot." she said still smiling as Elizabeth and Michael focused on the smaller brunette boy. you knew him as Ev. or Evan. Or C.C. or Chris. You didn't hear about the incident as you never really went to children's entertainment centers but you knew before they started coming to your church, he was a lively boy with a life ahead of him. 

"Aw thank you. Are you picking up food donations this week? I donated a bunch of T.V dinners for you guys." you say, moving your head towards where the food was dropped off and picked up by poorer families. Elizabeth, Michael and Evan had already headed over and begun picking out things they wanted or would need for the week. You didn't pay attention to the long and thinner hands that gripped her wheelchair handles. 

Until you heard the owner speak. "Are you a friend of Claras? I would take the answer would be yes but i just want to keep her safe." the stern British accent startled you, as Clara was Scottish and the other siblings never talked much.

You looked up into his eyes with an answer prepared and realized where the anxious feeling had come from. The dark shining eyes of a father who was obsessive over his children. 

The stare of a predator catching prey.

(Word Count: 1522)