FIREWEAVER | A Spiderverse Fanfic

Chapter Twenty-Six

Father Jennifer D'Angelo lived in a small apartment down the street to Saint Patrick's Cathedral, where every morning she could easily walk just five minutes to her workplace.

When she arrived she tended to the place like it was her child- cleansed it of any dust and dirt, lit the candles one by one, and sang it to sleep with a kingdom melody.

She always made sure the people who attended felt welcomed like her own family. Held weddings and funerals alike, baptized babies, and gave a sermon every Sunday morning. She listened to each confession with much understanding and prayed with them for forgiveness.

She enjoyed her job, and she was without complaints. But. She just wished the one funeral she held hadn't been for her own sister.

The memory plagued her, greeting faces more ghostly than the one she had lost. Forcing a cordial smile, speaking to the attendees with a balance of graciousness but not too happy as if this was a wonderful occasion. Even though she and Dana had been estranged, it was anything but happy to lose your own life and soul.

It was so long ago now, a funeral long buried behind her. The grief still stung, but she had to move forward. Keep praying that the soul who took her beloved Dana away would pay.

But now wasn't the time to think about that. She heard the door open to the confessionary box. Bits of yellow light fell through the wooden screen, a halo of light dotting half her face.

Between the thin wood that separated them in the box, she could hear the heavy weight of a man shift onto the bench. But everything else about him was utterly silent. No sound of breathing. No rustle of clothes. No anxious tapping of fingers. This man was completely calm, and there was an odd touch to the air around him. A thick coldness that made her feel like her head was being held underwater.

Nonetheless, she had a job to do. Father Jennifer moved her hand from shoulder to shoulder, head to chest, and then took a deep breath.

"Good morning, Father." The man's voice was older, but not gravely. He sounded healthy and ancient all at the same time, and it made her bones ache.

"Is there something weighing on your conscious?" She waited, trying to keep herself calm.

"Oh yes. What was it that we start these things off with? It's been a while since I've been to one of these." The man chuckled- his voice was so chilling it lifted the hair up her arms and spine. "I haven't believed in a God in a long while, but I respect those who have kept their faith even as the odds are stacked against them. That's true faith, in my opinion. A determined loyalty to the beliefs everyone deems wrong. Sparing the naivety."

Father Jennifer forced herself to swallow the wood-chips that she accumulated in her throat, gripping the edges of her robe. Something felt very wrong about this man. She out of everyone knew Nueva York as of recent years had become a beacon to many dangerous criminals much like the one who killed her sister, but she supposed she was safe beneath God's roof. She didn't trust anyone else to protect her.

When she made no remark, the man continued.

"I remember now. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I am on a path of revenge." She could almost hear the smile in his tone- this was no man who felt any repentance. But she listened. "I want to share something with you, Father, a little lesson on revenge. You see, it's not what any of what most mortals say it is. It's not a simple eye for an eye."