Unholy Communion

The Fire Ghoul

The old chapel was full tonight. The congregation waited expectantly for Secondo to arrive. It wasn’t often that he visited the small rural abbey, so when it happened, it was always a massive deal. The Sister arrived late and couldn't secure a spot close to the front, so she had to settle for squeezing into a tiny gap on the end of the very back pew.

The dim glow cast by the candles flickered in the drafts that made their way into the ancient building through cracks and crevices. It was cold, but at least the old stone structure offered some protection from the raging storm outside.

The murmur of excited conversation died down as the door at the front of the chapel opened. It felt as though the room couldn’t contain the powerful forces of nature that had entered when Secondo strode through the door, followed by his five ghouls. The atmosphere became suffocating and sublime all at the same time.

The congregation held its collective breath as Secondo’s eyes roamed over those who gathered there with his typical sneer of disdain evident. The Sister couldn’t tell if he was pleased or disgusted by what he saw, but if she was pushed to guess, it would be the latter. She subconsciously shifted in her seat, straightening imaginary wrinkles from the material of her habit.

The ghouls that flanked Secondo were all of them huge. Black hooded robes covered them from head to toe, and black masks obscured their inhuman features. Only their eyes were visible, and they glowed like coals from the pits of hell. Nobody ever saw the ghouls without their masks, but if their eyes were anything to go by, their true appearance would match their beautiful and terrifying air perfectly. Their robes were each embroidered with their elemental symbol, which was the only way to tell them apart other than the colour of their eyes. They stood unnaturally still, surveying the Siblings who sat in rows, ready and waiting to hear the word of the Dark Lord.

The congregation cast their eyes downwards as one as Secondo began his sermon. Magic punctuated his words, and all ears concentrated on every syllable he spoke. The crowd listened, mesmerised by everything he said and the trance was only broken when it came time to take Unholy Communion.

The Siblings obediently lined up, waiting their turn to get onto their knees before Secondo and receive. The tainted wafer and the communion wine were laced with a little something extra to enhance the spiritual experience. The Sister waited patiently, slowly shuffling forwards down the aisle with downcast eyes. Her heart galloped as her body rebelled against being made to move closer to the wall of deadly menace that waited at the front of the chapel.

By the time she got to the head of the line, her breathing was shallow and her palms were sweating. She kept her head down as she dropped her knees to the floor. A leather gloved hand grasped her chin roughly, tilting her face upwards. The Sister flicked her eyes up to meet the green and milky white stare of Secondo. Once their gazes locked, she couldn’t look away. She felt the tingle of the magic in his words as he spoke to her and suddenly the world dropped away. There were only the two of them now; the two of them and their connection.

“Do you accept the body of Satan, my child? Do you accept all that He is and all that He wants?”

“I do," she said breathlessly. She opened her mouth, and the wafer was placed carefully onto her tongue. It stung as it dissolved and the bite of it sharpened her senses.

“And will you drink the blood of our Dark Lord, Sister? Will you accept it into your body and welcome his Unholy Majesty?” Secondo asked, his voice low and chilling to her heightened senses.

“I will,” she answered, feeling the drugged wafer already taking effect. She drank from the pewter goblet that Secondo presented her with. The wine burned her throat as the spices and the bane flowed into her.