Sineater

One

New York City

Sirens wailed in the distance as Father Seokjin walked hurriedly down the street. It was a bit cooler this evening than it had been the previous night. Autumn in New York really was beautiful, but temperatures were almost frigid. The sun was close to setting and it was sending sparks of firelight off the glass of nearby buildings as, head down against the cool evening air, Jin kept a brisk pace.

He rounded the corner and continued walking to the set of oak double doors and stomped his feet free of dead leaves.

"There he is," said the man. He was sitting in the driver's seat of the expensive black rented sedan. He spoke to another man, a man whom he respected greatly, sitting in the backseat. "That's Seokjin."

The elder man spoke, confused, and his voice cracking with age, "He's young."

"But an old soul, Father," said the driver. "He's an old soul."

They watched from across the street as Jin entered an ancient looking church. The gray stone surface of the outside of the building cracking in places along the doors and windows. The arched windows were each bricked in, creating a small ledge along the outside. The sign above the door read CHURCH OF THE TRANSFIGURATION.

The driver exited their rental car and, looking both ways first, walked across the street, entering the church not far behind Jin. He listened as the choir harmonized with each other, waiting for Mass to begin. He thought the choir of young boys sounded beautiful the way each voice hit the projected note and hit it perfectly.

Jin was in the rectory behind the church, donning the garish robes that every priest wore during Mass. He slowly and precisely layered each article of cloth the way he was taught by his mentor. He kissed the fabric of the disconnected sash before finally setting it in top, the final piece to finish his so called uniform. He took to the hallway leading to the sanctuary.

The man watched as Jin walked from the doorway leading out of the rectory. He held his hands together as if he were already praying and walked slowly to the table set in top of the altar of the sanctuary where candles were set atop it, burning, and bread and wine were ready to be spread among the procession.

He knelt down before the altar and said a silent prayer, before rising again and speaking to the entire congregation in Latin. There weren't a whole lot of people that attended services, but the few who did were as dependable as they were devout.

"Mea culpa," Jin spoke, nearing the end of the prayer he had been saying. "Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa."

Following the short sermon he had given, spoken in somber tones and emotion-light vestige, he invited his people up for communion. One by one they came up to the altar and said a short prayer, followed by crossing themselves.

As each devotee stopped in front of Jin, he said the eucharist "Corpus Christi" to which they each said "Amen" in reponse.

When he reached the last in the procession, Jin realized that he didn't seem to recognize the new face staring back at him. He wore the typical black slacks and black shirt with the white collar of a priest. Jin thought he remembered him, now that he was studying him properly. It had been so long since he'd been in contact with anyone else from the Church.

The priest was a little shorter than Jin, with earlobe length gray hair, a tanned, olive complexion and almond shaped, dark brown eyes. His hair was unkempt, as if he hadn't ran a comb through after waking that morning, and he had a stern, fatherly look about him. He didn't smile at Jin, but he could see that his fellow priest had a set of impressively white teeth.