WHITE WALLS. WHITE PRIESTS. WHITE CHAINS.
How long had it been since they put him there?
Every so often, the priests would leave and be exchanged with new ones. The changing of the guard was his only chance at silence before the ceaseless prayers started up again.
White walls. White priests. White chains.
How long would it take for their prayers to turn into white noise?
The Dead Moon was coming soon. Abel could feel it in the chill of his bones. There was an angel draped over the altar in his mind, pure and white save for the red staining its front. Her face was the one Abel remembered. But as its face drew closer in his mind, it shifted into one he knew far better. One he'd seen in the mirror of his bedroom.
White walls. White priests. White chains.
How long would it be until the white turned red?
YOU ARE READING
Dead Moon Chapel
FantasyA young priest makes a deal with a sexy demon to reject his faith and lose his purity in order to save himself from being sacrificed to a looming, all-powerful God. * * * All that young priest Abel Atherton wants is to become an exorcist, but that d...
