《Satan's Vessel》*
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'I-I have to go to the bathroom.'
Hurrying away, she descended another set of stairs. She could see the bathroom down the end of the renovated hallway. Her bare feet slapped against the cold floor. The bathroom door slammed shut with a boom behind her. The cubicle door creaked as she closed it.
She fell too heavily onto the toilet seat. Again, she tried to calm her breathing, knees pressed awkwardly together, her head in her hands.
'Get a hold of yourself,' she said, clawing her trembling fingers into her scalp.
It took several minutes before she succeeded. After cleaning herself up as best she could from the night's forgotten events, she left the cubicle and splashed water onto her face, then patted it dry with a paper towel. She took a moment to look herself over in the mirror. She was pale and the dark circles under her eyes were worse than ever. She was looking so much older than her twenty-five-years.
Briefly she attempted to rake her fingers through her hair but quickly gave up.
She turned with a start at the sound of a light tap on the door.
'Who-who is it?' she said.
'It's Alex. I have some toiletries for you.'
She opened the door. Smiling, the old priest held out a plastic bag to her, his grey eyes warm beneath his thick eyebrows. 'Thought you might need it.'
'Thank you,' she said as she took it. 'Thank you so much!'
He bobbed his head. 'I'm setting up breakfast for you. Come and join me and we can talk.' He turned and walked away.
Toothbrush. Comb. Deodorant. It might not be the shower she'd hoped for but it still felt like heaven. Kaitlyn could have almost laughed.
By the time she returned to the nave the sun had fully risen, daylight pouring through the church's magnificent stained-glass windows. It beamed against the huge, brass crucifix hanging on the wall behind the altar. It lit up the podium and the intricately carved pillars that held up the domed ceiling.
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Despite what she felt about churches, they still managed to fill her with awe. 'It's beautiful,' she said.
'Thank you. I think so.' Father Alex smiled at her as he stood by one of the pillars. He gestured at a small timber table that thad been erected in front of the chancel steps. Kaitlyn's stomach growled at the smell of toast. She saw butter, honey, cereal. 'Please. Eat.'
So she sat. Looking at all the effort he'd put in, she suddenly felt guilty. Gripping the edges of her seat, she took a breath. 'I'm sorry for being angry before. I-I wasn't myself.'
'Perfectly all right ... and understandable.'
Kaitlyn picked up a knife but paused as she swept her eyes around the room. 'Where are they?'
'Close by. They're giving us some privacy. All this must be overwhelming for you.' Clasping his hands in front of him, he took a breath. 'It's overwhelming for me too. When they knocked at my door, I couldn't believe it. I still can't believe it.'
You're not kidding. 'Are they ... are they really angels?' Even as she said it she felt embarrassed, as though she still wasn't quite sure she'd imagined it all.
'Yes. There is no doubt. And they're here to protect you.'
From what? Though the question burned, she only nodded, unwilling to ask it. Flashes of her dream came to mind, making her shift awkwardly in her seat.
She pulled the bowl of warm porridge towards her.
'When can I go home?' she asked between mouthfuls.
'That is unclear.' Pulling out a handkerchief from a pocket in his black robe, Father Alex dabbed at his forehead.
Kaitlyn waited for him to elaborate. He seemed to have trouble meeting her eye. She swallowed. 'Do you have my handbag? I need to call my roommate and let her know I'm all right. I need to call work and tell them I can't come in tonight.'
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He shook his head. 'We know of no bag.' He looked apologetic. 'And I'm afraid I can't let you contact anyone, in case the call is traced.'
'Traced by who?'
'Our enemies.'
Kaitlyn lowered her spoon. Milk dripped onto the timber. 'Our enemies?'
'Those who would do you harm. Whether from the depths. Or from Earth. Or from the skies.' He swallowed, then abruptly looked away, dabbing his forehead again. He was looking pale.
'Are you all right, Father?'
He nodded. 'Just ... a little tired.'
Kaitlyn ate a little more. After a few mouthfuls, she said, 'You spoke about this "Reckoning". You said I was at the centre of it ...'
'Excuse me,' he said, suddenly turning deathly pale. His lips went blue. He hurried across the nave, disappearing down the steps towards the bathroom.
By the time Kaitlyn had finished her breakfast, Father Alex still hadn't returned.
But Zeke had, followed by the redhead and Jacob. All were dressed in their ridiculous sweaters with their hoods pulled over their faces as they marched through the front doors. Red. Grey. White. They reminded her of a flag. On anyone else it would look dumb. But on them ... well ... Kaitlyn doubted they could look dumb in anything.
Kaitlyn watched as they pushed their hoods back. She dropped her eyes too late when Jacob pushed back his. He smiled at her and she was forced to give a trembling smile back.
He looked around curiously. 'Where is Father Alexander?'
She nodded towards the stairs. 'He looked unwell.'
Zeke raised his eyebrows. 'Did he speak with you?'
'A little.'
Zeke and Jacob looked at each other. Jacob nodded at Zeke, and Zeke went to check on him, vanishing down the stairs. The redhead followed.
'I'm sorry. I should have made sure he was all right,' Kaitlyn said guiltily.
'You have nothing to be sorry about.'
It was just the two of them now. Kaitlyn flushed and peered down at her empty bowl. A pew creaked as he sat down. There were so many questions. So many things she needed to say. But it felt like her tongue was all tied up. All she could do was stare down at her bowl.
'Your necklace, where did you get it?' Jacob asked.
Kaitlyn grabbed it in surprise. 'My grandmother gave it to me. She gave one to my mother too.' She raised her eyes to his. 'Why?'
The angel was leaning his elbow against the pew in front of him as he watched her. His face was bright. His emerald eyes seemed strangely deep, as though he was looking into something. 'It means something to you. Something great and pure. It gleams with the light of God.'
Kaitlyn gripped onto it more tightly as a lump rose in her throat. 'Yes.' She swallowed. 'It does.'
He closed his eyes. 'Your mother is safe in God's keeping. As is your grandmother. And your father.'
Tears welled in Kaitlyn's eyes. He opened his eyes again and they seemed to bore right into her.
'You-you can see them?'
'No. God tells me.'
'God.' Kaitlyn squeezed the pendant so hard that it bit into her palm. The tears were too close. She stood. 'Excuse me.' And she hurried back to her room.
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