It over in a second, but the pain stayed long after. Simon also understood why the old man(and the other people in the church) had a tattoo of a sun on their arm; but it wasn't even a tattoo. It was a scar, made from the burning end of a pole.
Reverend Dawson dumped water on the ginger's arm, sending another wave of burning pain up Simon's arm. His breathing was heavy, and he was just keeping back tears of pain. The gag around his mouth muffled the screams that had long died down. By now, he was hoping he could get out of here in one piece.
"Welcome to the Worshippers of the Sun," Reverend Dawson said again, only this time with a sadistic glee. "You may sit down now."
One of the men took off the gag, and the other helped Simon stand up. Despite pinning him down and gagging him, they seemed to pity him - almost. Simon made his way back to his seat next to Mrs. Vernia, wincing every time he moved his arm.
The Reverend went on to another sermon, but this time Simon zoned them out. He knew he was supposed to gather information from them, but it hard with the searing pain still tearing at his arm. The only thing that snapped him out of his thoughts was when Reverend Dawson mentioned 'the two newbie Supernaturals in town'. THe ginger looked up and listened.
"I have heard there was a new team of a Vampire and a Werewolf in town," Reverend Dawson said. He had disgust in his tone. "A new son-of-the-devil and his mutt. I also heard their Masters are in town. Teachin' them to kill poor innocent human souls, no doubt. We've located the building they reside in, but not their Masters. Hmph, amatuers. Still don't know what awaits them," The Rev. shook his head. "Anyway, you all know what to do. Next Sunday, have your lighters ready." He chuckled a little. "You are all dismissed."
Everyone stood, and then started for the door. Simon thought the service was too short, but with what he has been through that day, it was more than enough. But what did the Rev. mean by, 'have your lighters ready'?
"Um, Mrs. Vernia," Simon said, walking up to the older lady and lowering his voice. "What did he mean? About the lighters?"
Mrs. Vernia smiled. "Next Sunday we plan to burn the son-of-the-devil-and-his-mutt's nest. It's what they deserve, after putting this neighborhood in danger."
"What exactly did they do?" Simon asked, hoping it wasn't too much. He had his hand held tightly around the cell phone in his pocket.
"Just their very presence puts this neighborhood, this town, this whole country in danger! They have to be put down, Mr. Lane!"
Simon nodded, although the idea scared him. That was Yogtowers for God's sake! He kept calm, though, and went back to get his coat that was left at the front of the room.
When he turned around, he met a familiar face. One that recognized his own. The old man from before.
"I know you," The old man hissed. "You're one of 'em. You're on their side."
"Mr. Gregory," Mrs. Vernia called. "It's time to go. Stop patronizing the new guest."
"He's not a guest," The old man turned around and met her eye. "He's one of 'em. I saw him with them. Right outside the building, too, chattin'."
Mrs. Vernia narrowed her eyes at Simon. The ginger stuttered out an excuse. "I-I know! But I-I didn't know a-about it then....When I f-found out, I heard of this place, so I came!" He smiled nervously, resisting the urge to bite his nails that came with being so nervous.
"He's lying!" The old man yelled. "I saw him! We can't trust him, initiation or not!"
The residents of the church began to turn on Simon. The ginger ripped the phone out of his pocket, almost tearing the fabric of his trousers, and hit the 'call' button that called Lewis' cell phone. He held it up to his ear instinctively, but then something collided to the back of his head, and he dropped it.
