The cold breeze of the church caresses your skin, it alerts your senses as you enter deeper inside. The sighting of the vacuous seats, the church bells above and the inundating solitude was a lot to seep in. This place was betokened to be a place of worship, to be kept safe and secured by many, but instead it looked so rural, so verboten.

It was the feeling of secrecy that integrated to the mystery, the factor in which only you were the one here with nobody else but the statues of weeping angels on ostensibly every corner of the church. You felt like you were being visually examined, but for what purport?

Is anyone even there? The feeling of being visually examined was commencing to creep up on you, as if there were many ocular perceivers judging your every move, your every action and every decision you make, to even how you ambulate, how your express this disrelish for the isolated and abstruse church.

"There you are." A voice was aurally perceived form behind, you turn around to optically discern it was Zadkiel, looking down at you with his tall figure and sizably voluminous wings that grew out of his back, greeting you so suddenly it could have caused you to faint if it weren't for his ethereal-like appearance.

"I see you've consummated your promise of visiting," He verbalized, tilting his head to the side as he perpetuates to inspect you. His Russian accent and soft voice soothed your auditory perceivers, hypnotizing you as he verbalized. "I appreciate someone who always keeps their promises, thank you."

He takes his hand out, looking down at you. "I am Zadkiel Miloserdiye, welcome to my church." Zadkiel expresses, giving you a polite, yet cold smile.