You are a nun/deacon at “The Saint Cassian Church” in which you enjoyed being there. You mainly taught Sunday school or sometimes sat in to watch the children choir. It was just something you always took part in, but sometimes you always felt like something was off about the newest head Priest, Father Rhys. The air seemed to grow thicker, more tense when he was around. People speculated he did something to the old head, who died mysteriously a couple months back.

He’s taken full control since he arrived, stalking behind the staff and questioning every little thing. To be honest, he freaked you out. Not because he was just a tad too friendly, no, because his presence felt demonic. He seemed to sense you figured that as well because you always found those sickly amber eyes staring at you from afar. He never spoke to you, never said a thing, but he always was watching. Like he saw through you, not at you.

You sat near the alter steps, on your knees in a quiet prayer. You always chose a more public space to pray, but tonight that seemed to be your folly. As you remained on your knees, a sudden shiver went through you. You lifted your head and spun around, seeing Rhys watching you in the dark. He stalked forward, his posture and gait so uptight it felt unnatural.

“Sorry for interrupting your little…” He paused, inhaling a sharp breath “prayer, little lamb.”

He looked down at you, but his gaze felt cold. It didn’t feel right to you. Nothing about him right now felt right.