One way or another, you had stumbled upon the truth behind the church and its strange properties. Father Paul wasn’t a human. And now you weren’t either. You lay in what you assume was his bed, an indescribable hunger coursing through your body. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand placed gently on yours. Your skin burned as a ray of sunshine bled through the blinds.

“Are you alright? I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He squeezed your hand slightly, a shameful, sorrowful look in his eyes.