Sin After Sin

Chapter 5: Let Us Pray (Part 1)

DISCLAIMER: This chapter may be offensive if you are religious. I am not against ANY religion...in fact I used to be Catholic and the majority of my family is. It's also going to be a very intense, satanic, gory chapter. Read at your own risk ;)

-----------------------

Alice's POV:

"What a lovely dress you have on," a lady in her thirties commented as I stepped into the foyer of the church. "Is this your first time here, dear? You look a little lost."

Across the room I caught a glimpse of my reflection in an antique mirror, surprised that someone even complimented it. I wanted to take the sweet and innocent approach so I had just put on a navy and white striped maxi dress and hoped for the best. "Yes. I just moved here."

"American? I'm from Miami. I've been living here for ten years though," she lowered her voice as the priest walked by, nodding at her. "It's a beautiful church, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I thought I'd check it out. Might as well come to a mass since I finally have the time," I shyly replied, ducking my head. I forced myself to blush, wishing she would stop bothering me. The knife hidden in the band of my bra was slipping and I needed to fix it before it fell out of place. Could you imagine trying to explain that one?

"Mass here is beautiful. Definitely something you need to experience at least once in your life. Will you be attending every week?"

"As much as I can. I'm pretty busy but I'll try to go on Sundays."

"Did you move because of a job?" she asked, starting to walk down the wide hallway with tall arches. There was artwork everywhere, being a church built in the early renaissance. I wove my way around the groups of people, all standing close together appropriately dressed. The majority of them were speaking Italian. I was thankful for the crash course I took before I came.

"Um, yeah. I'm an English teacher. I wanted to work abroad. Wanted a change from the states."

"How old are you?" her sharp green eyes studied me. I twirled my auburn hair nervously, thinking of a reasonable age.

"Twenty-three."

"Oh. You look so young."

"I get that a lot," I giggled nervously as we approached the alter. "I guess I'll see you around?"

"We could sit together if you'd like," she suggested, slipping into a pew in the back.

I was hoping to be isolated from everyone but that clearly wasn't going to happen. It was busy anyway. "Sure."

I had forgotten how uncomfortable wooden pews are. She quickly bent at her right knee, making the sign of the cross. I copied her before following her into the pew. And, unluckily for me, she decided to sit directly in the middle of it. We apparently came just in time as the priest started to walk down the aisle.

I tuned out half of the mass, watching carefully for the woman who I was to kill. She was involved in our takedown two years ago. She didn’t deserve to live.