《He Who Flew Too Close》


 Chapter 1

    In a void of darkness, my fingers press against the mirror before me. My brow furrows in discontent at the person staring back at me. Undoubtedly, this is me, and yet, somehow it isn''t; the body is petite and slender with a delicate face, but spirit feels mismatched like I am some sort of zombie resurrected with body parts that aren''t my own.


    ¡°Luminous One.¡± A lilting voice rumbles like thunder around me. The irresistibly masculine sound ignites my soul, and instantly, my world is scalded in beautiful, golden light. ¡°You say you love me, and yet, you question the beauty of my creation.¡±


    I freeze before turning. There before me is a man who glows like the sun. A man so beautiful it makes my heart ache. His golden hair freely flows like fire and his eyes peer up through it like pools of glistening honey. Despite his gaze''s hypnotic beauty, I can''t stare away from that chest of his. Every ripple of muscle is so immaculately sculpted that I feel as though I''m looking at a work of art. My cheeks burn as my insides prickle with jealousy before I remember it is rude to stare, but I just can''t seem to sever my gaze.


    He smirks and lounges back against the edge of the glittering pool like a king on his throne. From the glint in his eye, it''s almost as if he wants me to look. Without breaking eye contact, he beckons me with a slow movement of his finger.


    ¡°Come here,¡± he whispers. ¡°I shall give you the love you so desperately crave.


    My heart leaps. My whole body reddens like I am some chameleon trying to blend into the sunset behind me. I stutter and stammer, and then I wonder if it would be rude to decline. Admittedly, it doesn''t take me long to reach this conclusion, but this is a dream, and he is my God. Or so I hope so anyway, as they tell me my dreams are prophetic. Surely, it can''t count as a sin if it isn''t real, right?


    I swallow and dip my toe in the water, shielding my shameful chest from his eyes with my arms. It''s warm. So irresistibly warm; the golden water feels purifying as I steadily wade into the blazing aura of the sun god. As the water rises up by my chest, I feel free, as if there is nothing ugly about me before him. Despite this, I still cannot manage to meet his gaze. Those eyes feel as though they are unraveling my soul.


    Just as our chests are about to touch, his body distorts. His torso thins to the tall shape of a rake, and his eyes pale to the most monotonous grey. Those glistening golden locks wither away to nothing and his voice heightens to a nasally wheeze.


    I look up and find I am locked in the arms of my pastor.


    ¡°Repent vile child!¡± he thunders.


    I awaken screaming from yet another homoerotic dream about my god.


    The book that was tucked under my arms flies on its spine as I jolt upward. The sound of it crashing to the floor smacks the sense back into me; I''d fallen asleep with the Lupine book in my arms. No wonder I had such lucrative dreams. I curse as my chest heaves, knowing instantly what was to blame for this¡ªthe damned sexy stained-glass window had struck again. That was the only image I had to base such a fiercely masculine form on. I had shielded my eyes every time I passed it, yet still, I had fallen prey; every time I looked up to avoid the gaze of the audience when I was singing, there was Apollo and his stupid sexy abs.


    In hindsight, commissioning such an accidentally sexually-charged piece of art was a rather obtuse error for a church that practiced abstinence as a form of worship. So many innocent souls had fallen to that infamously sexy stained glass. Its hypnotic power is so prominent that some even said that it was haunted¡ªthat the deviant souls of the countless Lupine slaughtered by the church had flocked there, continuing to seduce the innocent youth even in death.


    That was the only natural reason it would continuously weasel its way into my mind, right?


    I realise then that the boys hadn''t pounded the wall in their dorm like they usually do when I wake up from my nightmares. They must have been sound asleep. The thought of being alone with my thoughts is almost as uncomfortable as the dream itself; I close my thighs and try to ignore the warmth glowing between them. Shame shrouds my features and as I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I feel utterly vile. I just can''t lie here like this. With each moment that passes, I feel my soul sink deeper and deeper into deviancy.


    Thankfully, I have my Priest on speed dial just for this reason.


    Although I have been banned from confessions during the night, this does not deter me. This is an emergency. I feel contaminated with every moment that passes.


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    I grab the soul-transmitter and press it to my forehead so hard it leaves an imprint, mentally screaming out his name. I''d rather speak to Sister Miranda to weigh out the punishment for a sin like this, but women are not permitted to cleanse sin in Helioistic beliefs. My hesitation is too late, however; I don''t realise the transmission has already started. Golden sparks, ignited by my body''s aura, surge through the crystal transmitter.


    There is no response. As I strain my ears over the sound of rain lashing upon the ceiling, the gentle sound of static leaks in like a centipede wriggling its way into my ear canal. My brow furrows and a strange flutter of unease worms its way inside me. It distorts, growing louder and louder like a choir of rattlesnakes. As thunder suddenly roars, I catch a snippet of something:


    What sounds like the tail-end of a gargled choke for help.


    My stomach plummets. Nauseating anxiety tickles my insides, but I remind myself to take a moment to process the scenario. Logic tells me that, given that this device transmits from the soul, he could be having a nightmare¡ªit''s certainly happened when I''ve called during the night before. But there is also the possibility that something with a powerful soul-reading could be interfering with the wire. Something like a wretched hellhound.


    I swallow. If I wake anyone up during the night and there is no threat, I''ll be scolded, if not worse. So I try to tell myself that it''s nothing. That it''s the usual panicky Lorelei overreacting. But it''s no use, I have to repent right now or I am literally going to explode; every second I spend hesitating is a second more my soul is tarnished. I wipe my clammy hands upon my pajamas, reminding myself how many times I''ve cried wolf before, and I get up, almost forgetting to hide the Lupine book before tucking it under my mattress. I don''t even want to think about what would happen if they find out I''ve been reading about mate bonds in the forbidden section of the library.


    Just as my fingers touch the door handle, the sound of music weaves its way into my eardrums. I breathe a sigh of relief. Sister Miranda often plays the piano at unusual times as a form of offering to Apollo. Granted, it was usually early morning when the sun rises, but this nighttime song could be a new ritual as a tribute to Artemis also. I know it''s her. I''d recognise the beautiful sound of her playing anywhere¡ªshe''s sort of like a beacon of light in this dark place. While I''d never admit it aloud, I''m a supporter of her liberal beliefs on religion.


    I open the door. The piano peels like the pitter-patter of delicate footsteps. Moonlight glares at my skin as I pass through the panels of it shining through the tall, arched windows. I swallow, always feeling uneasy in the full moon''s gaze¡ªit''s when the lecherous wolves are at their strongest, after all. But the music makes me feel so at ease that it lulls me into a sense of security like a beautiful siren''s song.


    As I reach for the handle leading into the main room of the church, the music stops. It is accompanied by a thunderous clatter, the unmistakable screech of the church''s ancient doors being pried apart.


    ¡°Miranda?¡± I call, pushing the door open.


    There is no response. The room is unbelievably dark. The doors are slightly ajar; whoever was in here has escaped into the night. I hurry to the doorway to attempt to catch a glimpse of them, but as I do so, I trip. Something rolls across the floor as I crash. Liquid splatters across the floor.


    I groan, finding my hand plunged into a warm, wet liquid. I stare at my hand; something dark is sticking to my fingertips. Just then, thunder roars like the growl of a rabid wolf. Lightning strobes like its shift, revealing a sleek red coating my palm. Just as my heart sinks, I see it:


    A flash of a decapitated head staring soullessly into my eyes.


    The blood drains from my face. Ice-cold goosebumps electrocute my spine. I scream, but no sound is coming out. Or perhaps I just cannot hear it, for I am utterly consumed with terror.


    There is a corpse before me. There is a corpse before me. THERE IS A CORPSE BEFORE ME!


    I don''t know what else to do. I scream like I''ve never screamed in my life. I scream until I can no longer breathe, until I am gagging and hemorrhaging and feel the urge to faint.


    Static blows my eardrums apart¡ª it is only when the light switches on that I realise that someone has come. I can''t process anything; my heart is pounding so fast I feel suffocated by my own rib cage.


    Trembling, I smear blood down my face as I violently clutch myself. I don''t want to look but it''s like something is telling me I have to. I am a soldier reared to slaughter wolf-shifters. If I cannot handle this gore, I will never prevail at my god-given destiny.


    I clench my shaking fists as I look up and, instantly, vomit rises in my mouth. There is Father David''s severed corpse splayed before the altar. He is drowned in a pit of black blood pooling upon the marble flooring, and his shattered neck-bone sticks out of him like a pike. I have never seen such ghastly terror in a pair of eyes before¡ªthey look as though they are about to burst from their sockets. The position I have forced his head into creates an utterly chilling image where a loose tear continues to roll down his cheeks long after his head has been ripped from his shoulders.


    I cover my hand over my mouth and wretch. I know then that that image of his glassy and glittering gaze has been carved into my soul forever. That I will never be the same ever again. I will be haunted by this image for the rest of my life.


    The final straw that causes my own tears to well is the defaced image of His Radiance. The statue of Apollo has also been decapitated. His marble toga has been smeared in blood like the killer had thrown handfuls of it in a rabid rage, and blood resides upon his outstretched palms, plummeting like tears onto his broken head below.


    Behind him, the words "your god is a liar" are written in blood across the wall

 Chapter 2

    There''s a commotion going on around me, but I am not all there. The sound of someone else screaming sounds distant like I am hearing it from under a sea of static. I feel so numb and aloof that it is as though my soul has ascended; I am now but a lifeless husk of a body rooted to a nightmarish hellscape below. All I can do is stand there, simply stunned. I can''t process what I am seeing. My beloved home, the church that had raised me when my family would not, has been tarnished by red. The once grandeur, ornate walls are vandalised with manic handwriting that bleeds into the intricate golden detail like the world''s most gruesome sunset. The white flooring is now tainted with an abyss of black blood.


    I read the words "your god is a liar" over and over, but I can''t make any sense of them. Simply put, I cannot comprehend such a fact. After all he has done for this planet, I cannot believe someone has the audacity to not only call him a liar, but to slaughter in his place of worship.


    Someone screaming my name snaps me out of my trance. Try as I might, I can''t get that image of lightning strobing over those lifeless, glassy eyes out of my head. I gag, chewing upon my nails like a frightened mouse. I seem to have forgotten how to speak ¨C all I can think about is the corpse. My mind''s eye is too focused on the severed strings of flesh oozing red. My heart is too preoccupied on the fact this was a living, breathing person only moments before.


    Suddenly, I am grabbed by the shoulders. Father Larious is there before me, face reddened with rage. As he shouts, sound explodes into my ear with the intensity of a gunshot.


    "WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?" he screams, shaking me violently.


    It takes me a moment to form words. To recall what actually did happen. I heard the sound of a piano and... no. That couldn''t be right. There''s no way the killer was playing piano after they killed him. That would be like they wanted to get caught. But then I realise that Father Darius couldn''t play the piano. As unhinged as it sounds, it was the killer, or at least someone who was with them, almost as if they were taunting me.


    "Check the doors!" I shout suddenly. "There was someone here only moments ago!"


    I yank myself away and run to the doors. I pry them apart as far as I can muster and am blasted by torrential rain. The wind batters my clothes, howling like a banshee. Father Larious pries me back as lightning flashes; in the brief explosion of light I rake my eyes as far as they can see, but there is nothing. The night returns to torrential darkness.


    "Get back here!" Father Larious spits. "You''re not going anywhere until you answer my questions!"


    He yanks me backward and I search his face. His thin, shrewd lips are pulled back into a snarl and he is psychically shaking. Never before have I seen him look this angry.


    I take a deep breath, trying to form words. My voice doesn''t sound like my own when it finally comes out.


    "I had... a dream," I say. I stop. I can''t tell him about the dream with Apollo; if they find out that I''m having raunchy dreams about my own Lord and Saviour, God knows what they''ll do to me. I move on quickly, simply hoping hell be too preoccupied with the murder to ask. "When I awoke, I heard the sound of a piano being played. It was... beautiful. I thought it was Miranda so I came to talk and when got here I found..."


    I cut off. Those bulging, glassy eyes flash in my mind yet again. I shiver, icy goosebumps crawling like insects over my body. Once again, I find myself unable to speak.


    I don''t think he is going to accept that answer. None of it makes any sense. I happen to have a dream of my god that wakes me and when I do so, I am lured to the scene of the crime at just the right moment. Oh my God. My heart wrenches with anxiety. Are they going to think that I did this?


    Larious bespeckled eyes light up as if struck by a revelation. His lips peel back into a snarl. "Miranda," he hisses like a snake. "Headcount!" he shouts rushing back to the corridor.


    "Wait!" I cry, realising that I''ve set him upon her. "No, it wasn''t..!"


    He ignores me and goes to presumably chap everyone up. The door slams shut and I am left with only a corpse for company.


    Tears prickle my eyes. Who would do such a horrible thing? Why was our church, of all places, the one to be targeted? We''ve never done anything but good. We are the ones who keep the streets clean of man-eating Lupine. We are the ones who raised the homeless orphans when they have nowhere else to go. I ball my fist tightly, baring my teeth as hot tears roll down my cheeks. It had to be a damn hellhound. Nothing else would have the strength to rip a head clean of the shoulders.


    It occurs to me then that this is an odd killing for a Lupine. As far as I could remember, none of the flesh looked like it had been eaten. It is clear to me then that this is a grudge killing. Perhaps the family of one of the wolves we''ve slaughtered.


    I have to check the corpse for clues. I am the Luminous One after all ¨C the one foretold to be the prophet of Apollo by his natural ability to create light. One day, I am going to lead this church. This cannot be allowed to happen upon my watch.


    I swallow. I tiptoe my way around the blood and do my best to avoid looking at the gore as I reach for his pockets. I don''t know what I''m looking for. Just some sort of clue to find out what he was doing before he died. Who knows, it might help...


    I don''t know what I am expecting as I rummage deep in his pockets, but it certainly wasn''t for gold to start spilling out them.


    My eyes widen. There''s so much of it. What must be worth thousands of majika seems to spill out for several seconds. I''m shocked that the killer hasn''t taken this; perhaps they didn''t know, but it seems far too coincidental that there''s been a death when money has been involved. Perhaps they didn''t have time to.


    I shuffle over and search the other. Something weighted falls upon my hand. I pull out what appears to be a cylinder shape and find... a jar of honey.


    I rake my brains but I can''t figure out the meaning of this. What connection could gold and a jar of honey possibly have? Is there any? Am I just looking too far into this? The only connection I can possibly think of is that they''re both gold.


    Yes, I am sure that''s it, I think sarcastically.


    I make my way to the piano. The blood embellishing it has been hastily wiped clean. I examine it more thoroughly, but there is no evidence of prints to be found.


    The door slams open. I hear the chaotic chorus of voices outside. I don''t think Larious has told them what has happened yet ¨C they don''t sound quite panicked enough for that ¨C but the air is definitely electric with speculation.


    Larious reappears in the doorway. I notice then how shadowed his eyes are. I''ve never seen him look like this. Something has been making this man lose sleep.


    Could you know something? I wonder. Was there any way he could have hidden and made it appear as though he had entered the room when he had never actually left? Did it even need to be that complicated? Could he have just hired a hit on someone for some reason or another?


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    We lock eyes for a moment. The seeds of distrust have been sewn; in that moment, I have a sneaking suspicion that he suspects me as I am him.


    Shadow passes over his taut features as he closes the door behind him.


    "Lorelei," he says lowly. Venom rears its face in his features. "Miranda is missing."


    My heart seizes all action within my chest.


    *****


    There is no sign of sunlight as the hours filter into morning. The skies are bleak and empty and rain gently pours against the ceiling as if the Lord Himself is crying from the depravity of the deplorable act. I''ve spent the entire day reliving my trauma through the countless questions of the higher-ups. Eventually, when I am allowed to go free, I lock myself up in the "Lorelei designated" dormitory, knowing I will be hounded by questions if I so much as show my face.


    Eventually, an emergency ceremony is called. The rest of the youth stare at me as I make my way through the hall. I can only imagine what rumours and speculation are buzzing through the air; several people stop me by calling my name, but I ignore them. These people never wanted to talk to me before, but now something juicy is afoot, I am the talk of the church.


    My eyes are fixated ahead of me as I storm through the onlookers.


    "I''m not allowed to talk about it," I mutter to whoever may ask, hurriedly pushing my way through. I feel all their eyes burn upon my skin. Usually I feel alienated enough in this place, but today it is toned up by one thousand.


    Eventually, I find myself in the ceremony room of the church. The rows are of crammed full of chattering people; they lean in and whisper as I walk in with my head down. I can never look at this place the same now that I''ve seen it ravaged by blood. I feel bad for whoever was forced to clean that mess.


    I''ve entered late enough that hopefully people won''t have time to question me before the ceremony. I take my seat in the most desolate corner; the only other is a young boy named Timmy who sits with his hands clasped as if in prayer. I''ve never really spoken to this kid before, but he never bothers me like the rest of them do. As I take my seat, he looks up ¨C even this meek young boy that usually blends into the background has his eyes upon me.


    I feel the desperation in his stare. He wants to ask me, but I will not offer any info unprompted.


    Just as he opens his mouth, Father Larious descends upon the altar. He is dressed in black head-to-toe, robes fluttering like a pair of bat wings as he strolls up to the podium. All falls quiet; anticipation surges through the air as everyone, with bated breath, waits for him to speak.


    He licks his finger and carefully turns the pages of the book before him.


    "May we begin with a verse from the Lumina," he says slowly. He sounds unusually calm. He takes a deep breath, waiting his sweet time as if he is almost loving the attention. He begins to drone in his monotonous voice.


    "And lo, with a sword of light in hand, God severed his wing in two and from its remnants, the sun was born and the gift of light was permitted to nourish the Earth. Cut into two, the perfect being was rendered imperfect; from the stars he fell, where Mother Nature met him with a warm embrace as he came crashing into the mortal domain. As he lay dormant among the Earth, she whispered sweet nothings in his ears and the ways of the Earth were embellished upon the Sun God. The desire for love and lust contaminated his soul; for man, not only had he fallen from the skies, but he had fallen to the temptations of the mortal realm. For man, he bled for thousands of years beneath the Earth, his severed wing the glowing life force that ran through the planet''s veins. Now susceptible to human sin, he was banished from the realm of the gods and, forced to wander the Earth for eternity, for man, the Perfect One became but a man himself."


    Larious stops. Slowly, he pushes his glasses up his nose and steadily pushes the Lumina shut. His eyes narrow as he meets every single one of the audience''s gazes, and I swear he lingers on me a second longer.


    "You may be wondering why I am reciting such an early verse of the Lumina," he says slowly. His fingers curl to a fist upon the podium and he licks his lips. "The truth is that our beloved church has been the victim of numerous hate crimes. Last night, Father Darious Ratchet was murdered within the house of Apollo."


    The crowd erupts and gasps with panicked chatter. The boy next to me straightens his spine; suddenly, he is alert from his praying form.


    Great relief washes over his features and a smile forms upon his lips.


    "God is real," he mouths to himself.


    I look at him. His face reverts to a resting position instantly but I can see an elated sparkle in his eyes.


    He knows something. I have to ask him.


    "Silence!" Larious demands, somehow commanding what he asks despite the panic surging from the crowd. His eyes darken. Somehow, he looks really at home standing atop that podium, like he''s been awaiting this for a long time.


    "It is clear to me that His Radience is displeased," he spits. "In this church, we worship Apollo by denying the temptation of mortal sins where he could not. If our beloved leader can be killed without the protection of God, it is clear that some of you are succumbing to sin."


    I cower, the dream of Apollo making my palms sweat. I''ve clearly been succumbing to sin. Not only that, but I''ve been reading about mate bonds, a ritual where Lupine tempt innocent humans with sex and then devour the soul, forever preventing it from returning to His Radiance in the afterlife. I just wanted to know more about what we were fighting against, but if they find that out I''ll be done for. I fidget and drum my fingers against my knees. Is this my fault?


    "From now on, every single one of you will be attending mandatory confession time. Our hunters will double their training time to protect against any rogue wolves. And as for me... I will be taking Father Darius'' place as the new leader."


    My head snaps up. Who the hell decided that? This decision seems to have transpired awfully quickly. Even if he wasn''t the killer, Larious has seized his opportunity for rising to power rather promptly.


    His eyes stare at the door like a cat sizing up its prey. I hear a creek; I turn my head towards the door and so do many others.


    There is Miranda peering through the doorway.


    She hesitates as she realises all eyes are on her. I''m just glad she''s okay, relief releases through my heart. Carefully she tiptoes through the crowd, attempting to seamlessly blend in an empty seat, but Larious is not having it.


    "Sister Miranda," he growls, not caring one bit that there''s a huge audience. "Where have you been?"


    She balls her fist. I notice then that her beautiful golden hair is tousled. The top button of her black dress is loose; she looks like she has hastily pulled on her clothes.


    "Nowhere," she mumbles.


    Larious'' grey eyes narrow into lines. They glare at her like sharpened icicles.


    "Sister Miranda," he calls, but his gentle voice does not match the sinister look sharpening his features. "Last night, Father Darius was murdered and you just happen to be missing, refusing to tell us where you were?"


    Miranda folds her arms and sucks in her cheeks. "I had nothing to do with it," she says quickly.


    You can cut the tension with a knife. Tense whispers fall upon the crowd, but Miranda is not deterred; she walks with her shoulders back and her head held high as she descends upon Larious.


    "I will ask you again," Larious whispers. The softer his voice goes the more toxins rear in his eyes. If looks could kill, she''d be dead. "Where were you, Miranda?"


    She stops upon the podium. She throws her blonde hair over her shoulder almost defiantly and it glistens like a halo at the top. "You want to know where I was?" she asks. Her voice booms, not just addressing Larious, but everyone whispering about her.


    Larious nods, shadow descending over his features as he does so.


    "I was with a boy," Miranda says matter-of-factly.


    There is a chorused gasp from the crowd. I freeze, slapping my hand over my mouth. Did she just say what I think she did?


    "You heard me," Miranda says, scanning every pair of eyes upon her. She straightens her back, standing tall despite the outrage caused by her confession. "I was told by God himself it''s okay."


    Larious'' eyes look like they are about to burst from their sockets. He opens his mouth, but for a moment, no words come out.


    "Blasphemy," he whispers. He''s psychically shaking; he balls his fist by his side, and suddenly, I am afraid for Miranda. Wrath ignites his features. "You''re the reason why this has happened to us. You''re the reason we''ve lost God''s protection upon the church!"


    "No," says Miranda. "God is angry, but not for the reasons you think. Our methods of worship are displeasing to him. I have been chosen by him to lead this church."


    Boos begin to erupt from the crowd. No way will they ever accept her as the leader. She''s the rebellious type and always in trouble; her beliefs on religion are very liberal. Some even begin laughing at her but Miranda takes it well; she continues to stand tall like a statue.


    Larious'' face is also eerily still. You can see the gears turning in his mind. I can only imagine what he is scheming for Miranda. While her initial lack of surprise about Darius'' death is suspicious, I don''t think she''d lie about being with a boy. Why she''d ever admit that is beyond me.


    "Everyone leave," Larious says. His voice is soft yet rugged at the same time. It sounds like the prelude gust of wind to a massive storm. "I want to be alone with Miranda."


    I stay rooted to my chair. I''m afraid for her and not leaving her by herself.

 Chapter 3

    The shadows immersing Larious''s features feel as though they are increasing tenfold all of a sudden. His cold, calculating gaze seems to weld my skin like a branding iron; so many people are watching and whispering that I feel heat cling to my face. Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God! Why am I doing this again?!


    "Lorelei." His eyebrows raise and his lips tighten. He looks as though he can''t believe what he''s seeing. In fact, I can hardly believe it myself. "Leave."


    I fidget. The last thing I want is to be sitting here, but I don''t think this is the time to be leaving people alone with one another. Especially young women with weird old men. I remind myself of this and grip onto the seat like a vice, nearly having to chain myself to the damn thing so I don''t leave her alone in her time of need.


    Time seems to be passing very slowly all of a sudden; I find my pulse racing even from a simple act of defiance like this.


    "Fine,'' Larious says sharply. "I''ve been wanting to speak to you anyway."


    I sink into my seat and slouch my shoulders. Oh dear God, what does he want?


    Larious seems to have had enough of me. I''m not the biggest problem here.


    Miranda folds her arms. I wish I had the spine that she has to glare at him so venomously; she retains her posture, head held high as she shoots daggers into his skin.


    "How about the pair of you step into my office?" Larious asks as though it is a question, not an order.


    Me and Miranda glance at each other. I''m relieved about this development; a chorus of murrmurrs resonates all around me¡ªI don''t want to be subjected to these stares a moment longer. I can only imagine the gossip that is going to be circulating about us.


    I get up and we walk in silence to Larious'' office. I tuck my head into my neck, feeling very small all of a sudden. He does not hold the door open for us.


    I note that, for a room in a building in worship to a god of arts, his office is exceptionally plain. The claustrophobic walls are plastered with a monotonous grey as dull as Larious'' sermons themselves; there is not a lick of creativity nor anything but the bare necessities to brighten up the place. Not a single trinket or piece of paper slips out of line. My imperfect self feels out of place here¡ªthis office is as prim and proper as he.


    Larious takes a seat and the two of us follow. My leg absentmindedly vibrates and I rub my sweating palms across my trousers. Larious'' punishments are notoriously brutal. What''s going to happen to us?


    Much to my surprise and immense relief, the hardened glare on his features softens. Larious touches his chest and speaks in a gentle tone.


    "Miss Miranda Salem," he says. "I am simply trying to save your soul."


    Miranda slouches in her seat. Those brown eyes of hers ¨C the hue of tree bark kissed in golden sunshine ¨C burn with defiance.


    "My soul does not need saving," she says sharply.


    Larious sighs. "Miranda, I will tell you a story," he says, spreading his palms in an open-armed gesture. "My mother. She was a prostitute." His brow furrows and he licks his lips. It takes a moment for him to collect his mind. "She got pregnant with me. She could have aborted me unethically like others in her line of work would, but she decided to keep me. And so, she worked tirelessly to feed me. Despite being caught up in such a deplorable scene, she had a good, kind heart. Things were tough though¡ª she was a single parent, after all. So she started sleeping with Lupine. Male Lupine love human women and will pay good money to sleep with them." Genuine sadness clouds his eyes. I genuinely did not realise he had a heart. "She was¡­¡± Larious pauses and his mouth twitches to the side. ¡°...eaten.¡±


    Miranda''s expression remains still. The air hangs with a heavy silence.


    ¡°Don''t you see?" Larious touches his chest. There is exasperation in his voice, and I can tell he is speaking from the heart. "Lupine are naturally drawn to sinners. God put them on earth to punish the bad, but my mother was nothing but kind. So, obviously, it was her sexual nature that damned her¡ª why else would god take such a kind heart? She was literally killed while having sex. The message could not be any clearer. If you do not see the error of your ways¡­" His voice flatlines and his eyes flare. "That will be you."


    Miranda bares her teeth. She sucks in her lips to hide it; she looks as though she is doing all in her might to suppress an outburst.


    "I told you," she snaps, "God himself told me it was okay!"


    "Stop lying!" Larious bellows. He slams his hands onto the table. No longer is there a gentle cloud of his eyes ¡ª she has gone too far. To save these preposterous things is one thing, but to say them in God''s name is utter blasphemy.


    ¡°How dare you sprout such¡­ such¡­!¡± Larious seems to struggle to find the words to describe what she just came out with. ¡°Such deplorable nonsense! You''ve never shown a lick of interest in God nor worshiping him ¡ª why would anyone ever believe that you have been visited by God?!¡±


    Miranda''s folded arms tighten. ¡°I think the fact that I''ve never been interested in God until now is the exact reason why you should believe me.¡±


    Larious eyes bulge and his face boils with anger. It takes a moment for him to speak. I am genuinely afraid for her; he clasps his hands and shuts his eyes. I am unsure if he is praying for her or trying to stop himself from grabbing her by the throat.


    ¡°Miss Salem,¡± he says calmly. His voice is unnaturally soft yet he speaks through his teeth. ¡°The Lumina is clear on its stance on sex. His Radiance was subjected to an eternity of grief after soul-bonding, a sex ritual that shares pleasure, pain and even thoughts and emotions between the pair, with his deceased wife. The message about sex being bad is painstakingly clear."


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    Miranda opens her mouth and I grab her wrist beneath the table. No more. Even if it is true, he''s not going to listen. I don''t know what happens to members of the church that have sex. I don''t want her to find out. Even if she is just kicked out, we live hundreds of miles away from civilization. She will not survive her journey through the Lupine infested forest.


    Sensing my anxiety, Miranda closes her mouth. Her stare is still pointed, however. Clearly, she is doing this for me.


    ¡°Normally, what you''ve done would constitute a very severe punishment, however, I will be lenient as long as you do not do it again," Larious snaps. "I will be sending you to work in the cellar, and when you get down there and see what''s in there I want you to remember¡­¡± Larious leans back in his chair and clasps his fingers together in a pyramid. ¡°That this is a warning.¡±


    I freeze. What on Earth is in those dungeons?


    Sensing my anger festerising, Larious peers up his glasses at me. His face does not move a muscle.


    ¡°And as for you, Lorelei,¡± he spits. ¡°What is this¡­this¡­ gender nonsense? Is this a damn ruse? Are you trying to have sex?¡±


    My stomach prickles with aggravation. I had wondered when this was going to come up. In the church, high-ranking priests (which technically I could one day apply for if the whole Luminous One thing works out) may have sex once for the purposes of procreation. Women, on the other hand, are never ever permitted to.


    My eyes flicker away. I''ve never met someone else like me. I don''t even have the vocabulary to describe what I am, nonetheless figure out why I am like this. I''ve never gotten any sexual kick dressing like a man like Larious seems to think I have, but I have always been drawn to the same-sex mate bonds described in the forbidden section of the library. Particularly the kind between two men.


    I hang my head with shame. I hate myself. My wounds are wide open for Larious to twist the knife in.


    ¡°You are the Luminous One, Lorelei,¡± he hisses, ¡°the one foretold to be the prophet of Apollo by her natural ability to use light-based magic. And you have the audacity to not like the miracle of a body you''ve been given? You''d spit in the face of Apollo by telling him he was wrong in his vision for his creation?¡±


    The lump in my throat sinks all the way to my stomach. He''s right. He voices the exact same concerns I had as soon as I realised this about myself. By doubting my own gender, I am doubting my own God.


    I don''t know what to say.


    Miranda leans in and speaks in my place. ¡°By being true to himself Lorelei is honouring Apollo''s vision for him. God made him this way.¡±


    My head snaps up and my eyes widen. A sparkling warmth envelops my chest. It pulses through my veins all the way to the tips of my fingers.


    I''ve wanted to hear someone say those words my entire life.


    Suddenly, she looks so great with that aura of rebellion flaring all around her. I remember her claim that God chose her. I now want it to be true so bad. I''ve always felt like she should have been the Luminous One, not me. She''s clearly the one most motivated for change and leadership.


    Much to his look of utter dismay, Larious does not retort that. He glowers, however. It''s really not his place to say what Apollo''s vision for me is.


    ¡°I think the two of you have wandered astray from God, so I will be putting the two of you on a strict regime," he eventually hisses. Clearly, I can see the gears turning behind his eyes. "Firstly, the church will be holding a ceremony to honour Apollo. Miranda, you will be playing the piano, and Lorelei, you will be singing. The two of you will not screw this up, do you hear me? Apollo is obviously displeased with us and we need to rectify that. We do not want to anger him further by doing a bad job." He turns to me. "Lorelei, I''d like you to put on a dress for the special occasion. You will need to present in a way that is pleasing for Apollo.¡±


    I snap out of my trance. Suddenly, I had been very interested in how Miranda''s messy, golden curls glisten in the sunlight.


    Wait, what?


    Suddenly, my skin is itching. The more I think about wearing a dress, the more the sensation multiplies like insects crawling over me. Suddenly, I feel nauseous. Why does something so small bother me so much?


    I''m struggling to speak up for myself. It''s such a small thing that I know he isn''t going to understand. I should be able to fulfill such a simple request, but for some reason, it makes me feel sick.


    Miranda looks at me and speaks when I cannot. "Can''t you see that that is genuinely distressing to him?" she snaps. "And he is pleasing to Apollo as he is!"


    Larious considers me as I sink into my seat. "Is it really that big of a deal?"


    I hang my head.


    "He pauses for a moment. "Tell you what then. Lorelei, as long as you aren''t trying to become a man, I''ll let you off with the dress. But you must prove yourself to me. Prove to me you are on the path God intended for you."


    I release a breath. ¡°How?¡±


    Larious drums the tips of his fingers together. ¡°I think it''s time for the two of you to go on your first hunt. The two of you need to be reminded of what we are fighting against and why. If the two of you successfully bring me the corpse of a Lupine, I''ll never pressure you about how you present ever again. Should you fail¡­¡± Larious'' face turns stoney. ¡°You''ll have to dress as a woman. Once you are pleasing to him, I believe then that God will guide you to your true path.¡±


    My heart sinks and I flash my gums. No, I don''t want to have to kill something just to be myself!


    ¡°And why would we ever agree to something like that?¡± Miranda growls.


    ¡°This is not an optional choice. We are wolf hunters. Surely you must have known this day would come?¡±


    I sigh. Yes, but I really hoped it wouldn''t¡­


    ¡°It''s not a thankless reward though,¡± Larious states. ¡°I will make it worth your while for both of you. Bring me the head of a Lupine¡­" Larious says it slowly and clearly like it''s a bribe. "...and I''ll bestow upon the two of you the church''s secret blood magic.¡±


    ¡°Blood magic?¡± Miranda whispers.


    Magic is a huge deal for normal humans. It is said that those who use magic are chosen by God. They are naturally selected as leaders and sometimes even worshiped. It''s not a big deal to me since I know I''m not special, but Miranda''s eyes twinkle.


    ¡°This will be of interest to both of you," Larious adds. "Lorelei, as someone supposedly destined to lead our church, you will be needing this magic. It is a status symbol. Everyone with power in the church has it¡ªyou will never be taken seriously without it. And Miss Salem, as someone looking to grasp power in this church, you will absolutely be needing it. If the two of you want power you''ll have to work your way to the top like the rest of us.¡± Larious'' eyes darken and he leans back in his seat. ¡°If the two of you want revolution as to how this place is run you will bring me the head of a Lupine.¡±


    I find it unbelievably strange that he''s even giving us this opportunity to rise to power, but Miranda nearly bites his damn hand off without even questioning it.


    "We''ll do it," she says, nearly bursting out of her chair.

 Chapter 4

    Miranda absentmindedly presses a single key of the piano over and over. I barely notice; the two of us have been practicing for about an hour, but we have both drifted into deep thought. I sit with my hands twisted through my hair and my teeth gritted. I have to kill something or I''ll be considered a failure, the fallen prophet unable to live up to the expectations of his destiny. I don''t even have time to be pissed at the damn gender thing!


    ¡°Say, Lorelei,¡± Miranda whispers. ¡°About the chosen by God thing. Do you believe me?¡±


    I resist the urge to roll my eyes. She doesn''t seem too phased about the whole murder aspect. It''s all about fulfilling her own goals.


    ¡°Were you chosen by god?¡± I ask.


    Miranda folds her arms. ¡°Yes, I was.¡±


    What she''s saying is just so¡­ different from what we''re used to. But she''s my closest friend. Would she really lie to me?


    ¡°Yes,¡± I say back but I''m not entirely sure that I''m telling the truth.


    ¡°Then¡­¡± She slowly slides her hand off the piano and turns to me. Her deep brown eyes flash with determination. ¡°We should work together to change this place.¡±


    I look down. I''m the Luminous One. I''m supposed to be a prophet, yet, all my visions of Apollo are damn horny ones. I''m not out here having God-given revelations like she apparently is. I''m supposed to be the one who will apparently lead this place, but I have no knowledge like she does. Is it really me? Is she the one who is meant to be in charge?


    I hesitate. I just don''t have the passion like she does.


    ¡°You wouldn''t have to do much,¡± she adds. ¡°If you want, you can just be the face of it. I''ll do everything else behind the scenes.¡±


    Ah. So she wants to use my status to bypass her own unpopularity.


    ¡°I hate to burst your bubble but I''m not popular," I say. "People say they like me because I''m the Luminous One, but they don''t really. They don''t like the way I dress.¡±


    Girls are supposed to wear a dress and a veil. I wear a shirt, trousers, and keep my hair uncovered. Miranda doesn''t wear the veil either but I think they''ve realised that is a losing battle. I catch more flack about it than she does.


    ¡°I think you could be, Lorelei. You just have to have more confidence. ¡°


    I sigh. I don''t believe her. ¡°I''ll think about it,¡± I say. Another lie. I genuinely hope she never brings it up again¡ª what wishful thinking that is. I didn''t even want the whole Luminous One thing, but now that it''s potentially being stolen, I suddenly am crushed by the weight of expectations upon me.


    I think of my parents. Unlike the rest of the church, I was never orphaned. When they found out a child with the ability to create light was prophesied by the Helioist Church, they sold me into an environment where my God-given gifts could flourish ¡ª or that was the excuse anyway. I have been told that they are proud of me for what I am, yet I never see them. Would I be letting them down if I were merely to give up? Should I even care about the opinions of those who sold their own child anyway?


    I change the subject. ¡°Say, Miranda. Did you really¡­ you know¡­.¡± My cheeks go pink. She waits for me to respond. Dear God, I hope she does not make me say the word. I make a circle gesture with my hand and raise my eyebrows, begging she catches on.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Miranda starts playing with her hair and her cheeks turn pink. ¡°I, uh, you know¡­¡±


    I scream.


    ¡°Lorelei, I''ve not said anything?"


    I hide my face behind my hands. ¡°No, no more!¡±


    I thought I could handle this but I can''t!


    ¡°Lorelei, look at me,¡± Miranda says.


    I peep my eyes between the cracks in my fingers. We catch eyes.


    ¡°Sex.¡±


    I let out another mortified squeal, crossing my spread fingers to mimic the shape of a sun with my hands across my chest.


    Miranda laughs at me.


    ¡°Knock it off!¡± I wail. I get on my knees, grabbing her leg whilst nearly sobbing. ¡°Please!¡± I beg, shaking her. ¡°Promise me you won''t do it again!¡±


    ¡°Hell no!¡± she spits, kicking me away. ¡°I''m not getting it once then stopping when I know what I''m missing out on!¡±


    I latch onto her leg once more. ¡°Miranda, how do you know you''re not being tested?¡± I plead.


    She blinks. I can see she didn''t think of that.


    When she doesn''t speak, I continue.


    ¡°Miranda, Apollo just likes to cause problems on purpose! He''s probably telling you sex is okay for the sheer drama it will cause! Immortals can get very bored!¡±


    The church doesn''t like to talk about Apollo''s general personality but what you CAN piece together from the forbidden section of the library depicts a very chaotic person. I think it says a lot about the guy that his personality is considered "forbidden knowledge."


    Miranda''s temples twitch. ¡°Oi, shouldn''t you have a little more faith in your God? Don''t speak of him like that!¡± she snaps.


    ¡°You remember the assembly we had where we were warned not to approach him should he show himself to us!¡± I cry.


    I don''t know why they tell us this, but it has to be bad that a religion would have to warn its followers about interacting with its God.


    Miranda folds her arms. ¡°Lorelei, we had something special, okay?¡± She looks me dead in the eye as if daring me to challenge the truth of her statement.


    I glower at her and get up. I can hear the finality in her tone.


    ¡°So, who is your damn boyfriend anyway?¡± I snap. My brow twitches; just the thought of some guy with his hands all over her pisses me off for some reason. She''s risking so much for him. God, he better be good enough for her, I swear!


    ¡°Uh¡­ that''s a secret,¡± she mumbles.


    My mouth falls open. ¡°First you don''t listen to your friend and then you deny me the juicy gossip?!¡±


    ¡°Lorelei, I have good reason to hide it, okay! I don''t want you to lose respect for him!¡±


    I put my hands on my hips. I want to say something but the sound of a commotion distracts me; from outside the doors, I hear a lot of skidding and yelling.


    ¡°Ic, get in the damn doors!¡± I hear a man hissing through what sounds like a large amount of shoving. The doors burst open and two figures come crashing through, leaking in moonlight behind them.


    I freeze. Instantly, my blood turns to ice. The larger of the two. His skin ¡ª it glows. Dazzling white light rips from his form. His complexion is so pale it is nearly luminous; as the great wooden doors creak shut the shadows enveloping the floor grow and the light steadily fades. The moment they slam shut the luminosity dilutes.


    My heart freezes. I''d recognise that glowing in moonlight anywhere even though I''ve never seen it in person before. So many times it has haunted my dreams.


    That is a Lupine.


    My hand digs into Miranda''s shoulder as I stand there, petrified. For a moment, so is she. The Lupine sniffs and his eyes grow wide; he huddles up into a ball at his surroundings. He looks suspiciously distressed.


    Miranda leaps into action, somehow even having the wits to act before me.


    She turns, bolting to alert the higher-ups but, suddenly, the smaller of the men strikes like a viper to grab her wrist. My soul leaves my body as a gun is pointed at her head. He loads the machine; the sound crackles like bones.


    Miranda is suddenly statuesque, all the blood having drained from her face.


    ¡°Hurt my damn dog and I''ll blow your brains out,¡± he warns.


    Miranda''s breath quivers and she stumbles over her tongue. I ache with anxiety each moment she does not respond; eventually, she swallows then nods. It seems even Miranda gets nervous when a gun is pointed at her head.


    He lowers his gun. I want to heave a sigh of relief but I can''t relax with that damn¡­thing around. I want to look at it some more as I''ve never seen one up close, but I''ve heard eye-contact is a sign of challenge among wolves.


    I examine the man instead. He has a wild looking appearance with long, unruly brown hair and a black eyepatch. A single lit cigarette hangs from his lips which he slowly takes a drag off. He blows the air out in a perfect ringlet into Miranda''s face.


    ¡°All right, I heard you,¡± she urges shakily. ¡°Just put the gun down!¡±


    He drowns his cigarette right upon the broken statue of Apollo himself and my mouth falls open.


    ¡°Name''s Rex and this is my dog, Icarus,¡± he states in a gruff sounding voice. His words are slightly slurred. ¡°Please do not get it confused. I am Rex and the dog''s name is Icarus. I''m a freelance wolf hunter here because I heard you got a little wolf problem.¡±


    Getting to the church itself is no easy feat. It requires a trek through Lupine territory and is miles away from civilization. Him getting here is a testament of his strength, but all I see is a slightly smelly drunk man.


    Before I can get a question in further Rex proudly declares that he is ransacking the communion wine. He grabs the Lupine by the wrist and leads it behind him. I notice it carries a cane that hobbles on the ground.


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    Me and Miranda are left looking at each other wondering what the Hell that was about.


    ******


    I end up going to bed early after all the rehearsals, so I don''t hear much about the Lupine that has infiltrated the church. I fall into a deep slumber.


    Later that night, a silky little flutter of music caresses my ears. As I open my eyes a scenic sunset slowly dilutes into view. My heart leaps into my mouth ¡ª it''s Apollo. He sits below an apple tree with his golden waves melting into the harp he rests his head upon. Lazily, he plucks at the strings and I lean forward; his hands flow like a river and the way they glide over the instrument makes the strings glow with melody. Never have I heard something so rhapsodic ¡ª he''s definitely the god of music, alright. The sound is purely stunning and he looks incredibly whimsical playing it, like something out of a painting.


    I step forward. Slowly, his eyes open, somewhat dazed as if awakening from a dream ¡ª I get the feeling he was as lost in the music as I. His eyes flicker up and down me and our gazes snag; the orange ring around his pupils sends heat oozing through his iris and a little smirk tugs at his lips. He beckons me closer with a curl of his finger. My heart soars.


    I can''t help myself even though I''ve been warned not to approach him. He''s too alluring. Very suddenly, I am aware of heat rising over my skin.


    Wordlessly, I sit next to him with my legs folded. It is then Apollo edges closer to me; I can feel the warmth of his aura swirling against my skin. I lick my lips as I steal constant glances from the corner of my eye. Everything about him reminds me of honey. From the warm glisten of his eyes to the sun-kissed hue of his skin that looks as though it would taste so sensually sweet.


    I break out in hives. Oh God. Why am I imagining how he tastes?!


    ¡°Lorelei,¡± he whispers.


    I freeze. I wasn''t aware of how nice my name would sound on his tongue ¡ª it sounds like a musical note by itself. I have forgotten whatever I was thinking about. I realise I haven''t responded.


    ¡°Uh, hi,¡± I say.


    Ugh! You''re speaking to your God and all you have to say is hi?!


    I rub my hands against my knees, sweating. There''s so much I want to ask him! Thank God he isn''t shirtless this time or I''d never be able to stop thinking about his¡­


    Oh my God! Don''t think about him shirtless, don''t think about him shirtless!


    I hide my face behind my hands. It''s too late. I am thinking of him shirtless.


    Apollo emits a chuckle. He was definitely laughing at me but attempts to mask it with a cough.


    ¡°Lorelei," he says. He started off by sounding like he was about to say something serious but cuts off at the sight of me spontaneously combusting. His eyes glint with mischief. He raises his hand and wriggles his fingers, very slowly walking his hand towards mine.


    "You better watch out," he says in a voice that sounds completely serious. "If you do not move swiftly, I will be touching you. You should move if you don''t want that to happen."


    I start chewing on my nails. Would it be bad if he touches me? My eyes laser focus on the hand edging slowly towards me. Is it like a gateway drug? Will one touch lead me astray? Will my God be offended if I say no?


    "Lorelei," Apollo states urgently. "A boy is about to touch you!"


    I feel as though I''m screaming in slow motion as a single dastardly finger makes its way towards mine. Oh God, oh God, oh God!


    "Boop," Apollo says, prodding my finger.


    I open one eye. That''s it?


    "Lorelei," Apollo says. A lilting chuckle vibrates through his chest. He puts one arm around my shoulder and squeezes firmly. Heat gushes through me; I feel such strength in his grip that my heart nearly somersaults out my mouth. His hand slides down my back with a trail of pleasantness, lingering a moment before leaving me. I swoon so hard it feels as though my soul is floating away from my body. "You can relax. I''m not going to punish you for thinking certain things or feeling certain ways."


    My sigh is deep. All my life, I''ve been told unnecessary touching is wrong. Is it really okay?


    Apollo stares at me. His stare grows pointed, a rugged note snagging in his chest as he speaks. "Who told you that I would?"


    Just your whole religion, I think.


    I look at him. His face betrays no hints at his mood but I can see sheer distaste blazing in his eyes.


    I say nothing, deciding I don''t want to set a pissed-off God on someone.


    Apollos lips tighten as I hang my head.


    "Here," Apollo says, saving the conversation from the awkward silence that follows. "I will play you a song to help you relax."


    "Really?" I whisper, eyes lighting up.


    "What kind of music do you like?"


    "I only know hymns."


    "No," Apollo instantly. "No worship. I''d like to know you as an equal."


    My eyes flicker away. "Sorry."


    Wait. Did he just say he wanted me as an equal?


    Apollo drifts his fingers under my chin and tilts up my head. I freeze, blushing. Every pore on my skin explodes with desire.


    "You also needn''t apologise," he says gently.


    My heart hammers as I look into his eyes, finding they are even more hypnotic up close. I notice his eyelashes are brown. Tiny specks of gold dust their way across his iris like stars. I get a little mesmerised and find myself nodding away at how pretty he is.


    "Good boy," he whispers.


    Wow. Why did I like it when he called me a good boy so much?


    Apollo smiles. It''s a beautiful beam like a ray of sunshine. "Do you have a favourite instrument?"


    "What can you play?"


    "All of them."


    "Actually, stick with the harp please."


    He nods and readies his hand. He plays me a twinkling little song. The notes dozily pitter-patter and my heart melts away just listening to it. Lost in the music, I cannot help but release a little tune. Apollo''s eyes widen as I hum to myself; I feel his shining aura grow warmer as I harmonise to his song. A smile melts through his eyes and he strums with a bounce in his hands. As it turns out, we sound really nice together. I could have never dreamed something as unsightly as myself could mingle so flawlessly with something as perfect as he.


    The music fades away and we sit in a content silence for a moment. I let the notes wash over me.


    ¡°Can you sing?¡± I ask.


    I''m really into my singing. It''s one of the few hobbies of mine that the church actually approves of. I want to hear his voice. It sounds so sensational when he talks that it must be even more so when singing.


    Apollo proudly touches his chest. ¡°I''m the God of music. Of course I can sing.¡±


    ¡°Will you?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm.¡± Apollo arches an eyebrow. ¡°How bold of you to ask for such a blessing.¡±


    I prod my fingers together. ¡°S-sorry.¡±


    Apollo smugly raises his head. ¡°For you, I will concur, but you''ll have to do something for me.¡±


    ¡°Anything,¡± I gush.


    Apollo begins to play his harp and the music carries me away. He sucks in a breath and parts his lips. My heart races; he looks so beautiful with the sunlight twinkling like a halo about his head that goosebumps quiver upon my skin. His lips slowly part and I find myself admiring how full they are, breathlessly awaiting what stunning blessing is about to part from his lips.


    He sings.


    My eyes widen. Dear God, I didn''t know someone could sound so¡­. so¡­ utterly ghastly! Apollo''s singing sounds like two yodeling cats tearing each other apart. Infact, I''m actually impressed that someone with such a pleasant talking voice could sound so horrendous! I hide my cringe with a nod of my head to the beat. I try to focus on the clashingly beautiful sounds of his fingers opposed to the ear-bleeding sound of his voice.


    He finishes. Oh thank God for that. He gives a pompous flick of his hair.


    ¡°Pretty impressive, huh,¡± Apollo says smugly.


    ¡°Yes, m''lord."


    Well, he looks pleased anyway. He seems like he had fun and that''s all that matters.


    ¡°Um¡­¡± I change the subject quickly before he sniffs out I''m lying. ¡°We''re having a ceremony for you in the church. WIll you be coming?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Apollo says quickly.


    I can''t really hide my disappointment. Why wouldn''t he turn up for a ceremony in his worship?


    ¡°But I was going to sing for you¡­¡± I cover my hand over my mouth. Damn, I shouldn''t have talked back to him like that¡­


    Apollo looks away. ¡°Are you asking me to come?¡±


    Can I do that?


    I ball my fists with determination. I decide to just blurt out the question lest I hever have the strength to do so again. ¡°Will you?¡±


    Apollo strums a few notes on his harp. ¡°For you, I will.¡±


    Elation flutters through me but I''m also incredibly confused. Why? Why me? Why is he being so nice to me?


    I frown. Given how strict our rules are, this isn''t the oppressive God I imagined of our religion at all.


    ¡°Apollo do you¡­ love your followers?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he says instantly.


    My heart sinks. He looks at me.


    ¡°But¡­¡± Apollo puts down his harp. I jump as the tip of his index finger drifts across mine. He doesn''t instigate anything further but keeps stroking my hand. I drum my other hand ¡ª I''m a goddamn mess from such a simple action. My heart nearly frolics within my chest.


    ¡°...I love you, Lorelei.¡±


    I freeze, trying to process what I heard. My stomach leaps with excitement; my God just told me he loves me. My queer self has longed all my life for that validation.


    Then the words ¡°your god is a liar¡± flash in my mind.


    I plummet back to reality.


    ¡°Why?¡± I ask in utter disbelief.


    Apollo slowly drifts his fingers over mine and I die a little inside from how large and lusciously soft his hands are ¨C it is like being caressed by silk. Goosebumps slowly prickle down my neck.


    ¡°I was the first from the realm of the Gods to ever feel love and sexual desire,'' he replies. "I learned it from Mother Nature herself as I lay dormant in the Earth. The emotion soon spread like a disease to the other Gods and I was accused of bringing mortal sin to the Gods.¡± Apollo''s voice drops to a whisper. ¡°Not only that¡­¡±


    My heart grows wings as his fingers intertwine with mine.


    ¡°...But I am also bisexual. In other words, I know what it''s like to be different. My point is that if it''s okay for me to be like this, then it''s absolutely okay for you. That is what I wanted to tell you."


    I bite my lip. My world is spinning. A rambunctious heart is sending sparkling-feeling blood roaring in my ears.


    Apollo tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and glances at my lips. "I really respect you for being brave enough to be yourself in the tough situation you''re in." He leans in. His whisper drifts down my neck in a luscious caress. "You''re the exact kind of person I want leading my religion."


    My chest heaves. I want to snatch my hand away as he squeezes. I realise then that none of this is real. My God telling me that he loves me then even saying that he is the same as me? This is all I''ve wanted to hear all my life.


    ¡°Is this a dream?¡± I ask.


    It has to be. This is not the vengeful God I have feared my whole life.


    Apollo''s eyebrows knit with concern. ¡°If I tell you it''s not a dream will you be afraid of being your true self around me?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I admit.


    ¡°Then¡­¡± Apollos hands wisp up my arm. His fingers drift up my chin to force me to look at him. I catch his eyes, speckled with gold like a supernova in his iris, and all my thoughts leave as a breathless gasp. I watch each lilting syllable form almost hypnotically from his lips. ¡°It''s a dream. And as a dream you can do whatever you want to me without consequences.¡±


    His whisper stirs my heart into a frenzy. My perfect God. My perfect God who says he loves me and who I love in return and always will love unconditionally ¡ª how his painful beauty aches my heart. I love him. I want to show him that I love him. But when I wake I will be ravaged with desire. Perhaps I will even feel the drive to slip my hands between my legs. I can''t take that risk.


    This is a test. He is testing my faith. It makes sense ¨C he is the only image of the male body I have to base my desire on after seeing him depicted in art. It makes sense he''d use himself.


    I clench my eyes shut and snatch myself away. No. I must remain strong!


    I get on my knees, begging for forgiveness and clasp my hands together. ¡°No, I will love you through song and prayer!¡±


    ¡°Damn, what a fucking loser,¡± Apollo says.


    Huh?!


    I wince. I open one eye. Apollo stands, towering over me. He folds his arms. Dare I say I think I''ve pissed off the Sun God.


    Although the church doesn''t like to speak of it, I''ve always known that Apollo has relationships and¡­ whatever that means that goes with that. He''s immortal. He doesn''t need to worry about things like sin and the afterlife. I''ve read about his lovers in the forbidden section of the library, but no male ones were listed. Never did I expect he''d come for one of his followers like this. From his reaction, I realise he might have genuinely wanted it.


    Apollo begins to fade. I don''t think he''s used to being told no.


    ¡°Wait!¡± I cry. ¡°Why? Why me? Why am I the Luminous One?¡±


    "I told you, Lorelei," he says. "It''s because I love you."


    I freeze. I don''t think I''ll ever get used to hearing that.


    Apollo vanishes from sight.


    My eyes burst open and I bury my face into my arm.


    I am contaminated by warm, glowing desire.

 Chapter 5

    Needless to say, a lot has been going on that, somehow, the murder has been at the back of my mind. With the whole kill a living creature for your place in the church thing, no longer am I just the one trying to catch the killer ¨C I''m the one about to be the killer. And then there is whatever is going on with Apollo, something I try not to think about due to how incredibly confusing it is


    When I awake in the morning, I realise that I haven''t asked Timmy about why he mouthed that God was real when he found out that Father Darius had died. I obviously don''t think a small child ripped a man''s head clean off, but he knows something. If there''s anyone who knows what Father Darius might have done to make any enemies, it would be him.


    I stare at the roof for a while and sigh. I''m a sinner, and I think it''s fair to assume that if Lupine punish sinners, I could be the next target. If someone is targeting the higher-ups of the church, Larious will be next, then eventually I will be on the line. If you don''t like a religion enough to call its God a liar, eventually you''re going to go for the one who''s meant to be its prophet to show that he''s an ordinary mortal man. You want to kill anything that gives it hope.


    All I know is I have to get to the bottom of this to save my skin.


    Right now, my only real suspects are Larious and Miranda, and I struggle to even think of the second one. The only real evidence against Miranda is that she was missing when the murder happened and that she can play the piano. She also didn''t have much of a reaction when she found out there was a murder, which I will admit is suspicious. But she couldn''t rip someone''s head clean off. Unless of course, she befriended a Lupine and got him to do it, which¡­ well, although I don''t like to admit it, I think that could possibly track. Miranda has never liked the church or shared its view, and befriending a Lupine could be an act of rebellion for her. The only reason she stays is because of how far we are from civilization. She knows that the church will happily just let her die if she tries to escape. The only people that live nearby are Lupine.


    I freeze. The only people that live nearby are Lupine. Miranda''s boyfriend; could it be possible that her boyfriend is a Lupine? Could he have something to do with this? She was rather secretive about the guy. She''d said she didn''t want me to lose respect for him like I knew him, but could that have been trying to throw me off the trail?


    I slide my hands so hard down my face that I tug at my eye sockets. She could genuinely be in danger here.


    I try to think of what her motive could be. I know she doesn''t like the church, and I know that she wants to rise up the ranks. Is she picking off people to make her own rise to power easier?


    I shake my head. I feel bad even thinking about this. There''s no way it''s her ¨C I''d know if she was capable of something like this.


    I try to think about Larious instead. Larious, like her, also wanted power. He declared himself in charge a mere hours after the murder and I think everyone was too afraid to challenge it. For him, the church was never strict enough, and I remember there being rumours that he never liked how Father Darius did it. The main difference between him and Miranda is that I think he might be capable of killing someone. After all, he is sending me and Miranda - the one destined for power and the one seeking it - on a possible death mission to kill a Lupine. Usually, it takes years of specialized training before you do something like that, while we''ve only had basic firearm training and studied wolf theory. And everyone fears him. People in this church warn you of defying Larious, but never do they ever dare to mention why.


    Larious also seemed to threaten Miranda with the whole dungeon statement. She hasn''t started doing her work in there yet because she''s been helping me with the recital, but when she does, I''ll make sure she tells me what''s in there. Assuming she gets out to tell the tale.


    My plan of action is follows: Speak to Timmy, find out more information about Miranda''s boyfriend, and find out what''s in those damn dungeons.


    The rain has cleared. Streams of glowing sunlight seep through the window. I reach my hand up and touch the light, my fingers passing through it.


    I think about the whole Luminous One thing. I don''t know if the dreams I''ve been having with Apollo are real or not. Given my supposed destiny of being his prophet, it might actually be me communicating with him. But it just felt so¡­ unreal. Apollo just seemed too perfect. He''s everything I ever wanted in a God. And what he said was everything I''d wanted to hear from him. It feels almost too good to be true. What''s the catch here? Are they all just dreams concocted by my mind?


    I curl my fingers. Either way, at the recital, I''ll find out. If he''s there, I''ll know if the dreams are real and that I really am a prophet.


    I stare up at the ceiling. Will I get to meet Apollo in person?


    There is a knock on the door.


    "Lorelei, please get dressed," comes Larious''s voice.


    I freeze. It''s the terror himself. I think of the Lupine book that''s hidden under my mattress and my heart stops. It''s one that talks about mate bonds. He''s not going to want to come in, is he?


    "Just a minute!" I say.


    I get up and pull on my clothes. I check myself out in the mirror, realising my blond hair that tumbles just past my shoulders is tucked into my shirt. I pull it out and check the mattress to see if any evidence of the book hangs out, but I don''t think it''ll be noticeable to him. Still, my heart is racing.


    I open the door where Larious'' tall, thin frame towers over me. His bald head, rimmed with grey hair, and long neck make him look like a vulture, the floaty sleeves of his robes tucked into his sides like wings. Despite scavenging away on those he deems unruly, he looks like he''s never known a good meal in his life. The white fabric makes him float about like a ghost as he moves.


    "We have a guest for you and Miranda," he says. "It''s your teacher for the Lupine hunting training."


    I feel the blood drain from my face. The Lupine killing thing is actually going to happen? Does he actually want us dead?


    "Lorelei, I want you to know that I am hard on you because you are the Luminous One. One day, you are destined to lead the church. You must be up to standard."


    "Yes," I stutter. I''m not sure what else to say to that.


    Beams of sunlight flicker over our forms as I pass through the chestnut hallways and, eventually, we make our way into the main hall. It is warm but still in his presence, I feel chilled to the bone.


    Unfortunately, I smell my new teacher before I see him. The stench of cheap booze assaults my nostrils. There, passed with his feet raised on the back of the seats, is the man we met the previous night, Rex. Drool is rolling down his chin and he snores loudly. The Lupine sits next to him, chewing on his cane like a giant chicken bone. I yelp and hide behind Larious, but I peek out. I can''t help but stare at it.


    Miranda follows behind us a few seconds later.


    "This," Larious says loudly, "is the legendary wolf hunter, Rex Taylor. He''s the number one freelance wolf hunter. Or was, anyway. He will be your teacher." Larious claps his hands together and


    beams. I''ve never seen him smile like that before. "Good luck!"


    Larious leaves and me and Miranda look at each other. Oh dear God, he really does want us dead.


    The sound of sniffing, so loud it is like a vacuum, is heard. The Lupine looks up with the cane still in his mouth.


    I cower. "Miranda, why is it looking at me?!"


    Miranda is about to speak but is cut off by her eyes nearly popping out her head. The Lupine scuttles towards us half¨Cwalking half crawling like a chimp man. It stands to full posture and I feel my heart sink ¨C gah, Lupine are so big! I flap my hands about my face like there''s a bee about me and let out a dramatic, girly squeal. I keep thinking he''s at full height and he just keeps going! I end up grabbing Miranda''s shoulder and hide behind it. Why am I the one it''s staring at? Can it smell fear?!


    "Lorelei, stop being such a fruity little boy and calm down!" Miranda snaps. She spreads her arms out like a shield before me. "Stay back!"


    The wolf boy leans into her arm and sniffs. He licks her hand.


    Miranda swipes her hand to punch him but I quickly grab it to prevent her.


    "Don''t!" I hiss. You shouldn''t be picking fights with creatures this powerful!"


    Miranda glares daggers at the beast and slowly lowers her hand. A cold detachment brands her gaze; I can tell she''s thinking about how easy it would be to take this beast''s life. He''s right here in our territory, so open and vulnerable with his teacher snoring. I shudder. It''s really, really bothering me how unphased she is about killing a Lupine.


    The Lupine opens one eye, still cowering.


    "You scared him?" I mutter. I state it more as a question, genuinely confused as to why a gigantic beast like Icarus'' would fear an unarmed human like Miranda.


    I hear a lot of groaning. The commotion seems to have disturbed Rex''s snores.


    I stare at the Lupine and clench my fists. I have to get over my fear. I''m going to be killing one of these things. What can I do if I can''t even look at one?


    I squeeze my eyes shut and extend my arms, trying to let it see that I mean it no harm. I can only hope it means the same for me.


    I shake as I hear a chorus of sniffing. Wow, this boy really likes to sniff. I open one eye and finally get the good look I want. The first thing that stands out to me is his eyes. They are a pale, milky blue, with a slight tinge of heterochromia ¨C one is almost white. They almost appear to glow against the inky black entanglement of curls they peer out of. His skin is pale; to my surprise, he emits a smile as lovely as a beam of moonlight. A weary one creeps up my lips in response. These things scare me but it is the same morbid fascination as one might have reading a horror novel. I cannot deny that I am oddly enchanted by these things.


    "Oh?" Rex mumbles. I feel his eyes on me and the Lupine.


    Me and the Lupine just look at each other. Now that I''ve seen him up close and can see he isn''t going to instantly grab me by the throat, I feel a lot more assured. It''s like he can sense my fear slowly turning into wonder; there''s something really pure about the vibe he gives that puts me in a good mood. It''s like the rush of dopamine one might get looking at a puppy. Quite the opposite of the dark, dangerous creatures I''ve been told they are. He starts drumming his fingers on the wooden chairs excitedly. The action grows into a full-on thumping of his hand the longer I look at him. Suddenly, he bounces on the spot.


    "Why is he doing that?" Miranda mumbles.


    "Ic doesn''t talk," Rex explains. "Don''t know if he can''t or just chooses not to. I think he does that to simulate the wagging of a tail."


    Ic drops his cane and sits politely before me. He looks at me with large puppyish eyes, hand beating with excitement.


    "Oh my God," Rex clutches his face and whispers in a baby voice. "He''s giving you his cane¡­"


    When I don''t know what that means, Ic nudges my hand with the cane in his mouth. It is covered in teeth marks. I stand there, not sure what is expected of me.


    "Well go on then!" Rex snaps. "Throw it!"


    "Throw his cane?!" I spit. "Doesn''t he need that?"


    "Ic is only partially blind. I think he likes the challenge of trying to retrieve it."


    "Wait, he''s blind? But he appeared to be reading my face?"


    "Lupine are very good at reading auras ¨C ie, the light of your soul that determines what mood you''re in. They use it to attract mates." Rex gets up and slips an arm around Ic''s neck. "One day we''ll find you a mate, won''t we Icky boy?!"


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Ic starts smashing his hand against the chair as Rex ruffles his hair.


    I''ve heard that before. It''s how man-eaters are such successful hunters. They can manipulate mate-pulls, which is a very intense feeling of connection between a compatible pair. They trick the human into believing they are in love, sleep with them, and when they finally tire of them, feast upon their flesh and devour their souls ¨C that''s the reason they are known as hell hounds. They are very good at seduction and while no one knows what happens to a devoured soul, one thing is certain: it cannot return to His Radiance in the afterlife as the soul now belongs to the Lupine.


    My face darkens. I shouldn''t believe this facade. That Lupine probably wants my body and more, despite the innocent, puppy front.


    Miranda voices my concerns. "Why is it like that?"


    Rex narrows his eyes. "Like what?"


    "Well, like a dog. Lupine can speak English and don''t behave like that. It''s weird."


    "Why are you like that?" Rex counters.


    "Like what?"


    "Such a judgemental bitch?"


    Miranda''s mouth falls slack. It appears that Rex hasn''t forgotten about the way she looked at Ic last night. "It was just a damn question!"


    Rex folds his arms. "If you must know, Ic''s parents were killed by the church. When they don''t want to kill the kids or need funding for weapons they sell them to become Chains ¨C Lupine that hunt other Lupine. The church was keeping him hostage for some reason, and I rescued him. I found him being raised by a literal dog.¡±


    A chill rolls down my spine. ¡°Why is the church holding Lupine?¡±


    Rex shrugs. ¡°Beats me. There''s a lot of shady shit this place is up to. Part of the reason why I left.¡±


    I shake my head. I don''t know if I believe all this. Freelancers hunt Lupine for money and get angry when the church does it for free ¡ª as it should be. There''s probably some bad blood due to us offering their service for free.


    Yet still I find myself with the urge to ask questions. "You used to be a member?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I escaped with the help of Ic.¡±


    I frown. Usually, those who leave are ostracised ¨C well, most don''t survive the journey back to civilisation. What he''s saying has enough holes to make me doubt it further.


    ¡°Why did they invite you back?¡± Miranda asks.


    Rex places his hands on his knees and kneels to her height. ¡°They pay me money to keep my mouth shut, kid. They probably would have killed me if I didn''t get my hands on a bunch of their weapons and didn''t have Ic to protect me.¡±


    Miranda''s eyes darken. ¡°What do you know about the church?¡±


    Rex shakes his head, his unruly brown hair flying about the place. ¡°I won''t be telling you, kid. I''m just here for my pay.¡±


    Lines of concern wrinkle my forehead. How can it be true that they''re paying him money for his silence? We help rid the world of dangerous Lupine and shelter orphaned children. What could we possibly have to hide?


    No. Nothing he is saying can ve true. These people sell Lupine cubs into brothels to house them until they''re old enough to work. Sex with Lupine, or even man-eaters is a big¡­ well, fetish due to their ability to share pleasure via mate bonds. These people give those monsters a taste for humans and then sell people the service of killing them when they get out of hand. Nothing he says can be trusted.


    Rex makes his way to his bag. He pulls out a contraption unlike anything I have ever seen in my life. It is a gun made out of crystal and silver; the general mechanical parts like the trigger are metallic whereas the part that stores the bullets is topaz. Inside the crystal is a small orb of light races about the place. It rattles violently almost like it''s trying to break free, causing the whole gun to shiver.


    ¡°This,¡± Rex hands Miranda the gun ,¡°is a spirit pistol and that,¡± he points to the beam of light flickering within, ¡°is the soul of a Lupine imprisoned within . When you fire the gun a tormented spirit rushes out. Maddened by its imprisonment, it will viciously attack anything that it sets its eyes on ¨C which will hopefully be a Lupine. Just make sure it isn''t you. This is the most powerful weapon in the arsenal against Lupine. It is also extremely illegal so keep your damn mouth shut about it.¡±


    A chill prickles down my spine. There''s¡­ a person in there. I shake my head. We''ve been fighting Lupine on the premise that they lead souls astray from Apollo, but we''re just trapping souls and doing the exact same. Isn''t that extremely hypocritical?


    Maybe I shouldn''t consider this freelance a member of the church, I think. Yes, that''s it. We''d never use weaponry like this.


    But then again, didn''t he say he stole the weaponry from the church?


    Even if Rex is lying, the ethics off it all still haunt me.


    ¡°That isn''t ethical,¡± I utter.


    Rex gives me a condescending smile. ¡°Kid. When you see what man-eating Lupine do innocent women, you suddenly won''t give a shit about what happens to them. They deserve an eternity of pain and suffering for what they do..¡±


    I glance at Miranda. Is she okay with this? She doesn''t notice my worried glance and aims the gun with a shut of one eye. Her face is fierce with determination, completely unphased. She looks like she was born to hold that god-awful thing.


    I slouch my shoulders. This isn''t good. I questioned whether I could do this, and already I have a problem with the mere weaponry we use. We haven''t even got to the damn killing part yet. Miranda offers me the gun and I shake my head, feeling nauseous. I don''t want to even touch that disgusting thing!


    Rex takes the gun off Miranda. ¡°To fire this thing you''ll need to sacrifice a fragment of your soul. You can only fire so many of these in a lifetime, so use it wisely.¡±


    My face pales. We''ve been taught that we should kill Lupine because they steal souls, but now we''re just stealing theirs? We''re just throwing fragments of something so precious away just for the sake of mere killing? Am I, as a member of the Helioist Church, really expected to be okay with this?


    I look at Miranda desperately. ¡°Don''t you have a problem with this?¡±


    She takes a moment to respond, tone flat. ¡°Lorelei, you don''t really believe that shit, do you?¡±


    I touch my chest, baring my teeth. ¡°I''m the Luminous One! I have to!¡±


    It may be easy for her to disengage, but this is my destiny we''re talking about! I can''t escape it even if I tried! God knows I don''t want to be any sort of role model or icon ¡ª I''m a damn sinner!


    Rex''s lips tighten. ¡°We''ll see how long you last with that attitude when you see what a man-eater can really do.¡±


    My pulse races. This is hypocrisy at its sheer finest. No human, Helioist or not, should be sacrificing their soul. I have to do something about this. This cannot be allowed to continue.


    ¡°You can change this,¡± a little voice in my head says. ¡°You''re the Luminous One. You have the potential to rise to power and put people on the right path.¡±


    But to do that I have to gain influence. Power. To do that I have to¡­ I have to¡­!


    I gnash my teeth, feeling tears bubble in my eyes. I have to kill something.


    I hang my head. It''s so hard to accept that I have to kill something to set this church on the right path. Can something good really come of something so deplorable? Will I then be the one branded a sinner even if it is for the greater good?


    Rex looks at me with cold eyes. ¡°Perhaps this will be more to your liking.¡± He rummages through his leather bag. ¡°This is an ordinary gun loaded with a silver bullet. You can use these things to damage a Lupine''s regenerative healing, although, this won''t bring down a more powerful man-eater. It can be fired as an ordinary gun or can be infused with your soul to propel the bullet. As creatures who manipulate others with their soul, interfering with a Lupine''s soul with your own is the best way to counter them.¡±


    I clench my eyes shut. It is certainly not to my liking. I don''t even want to look at this thing, but I know I have to. Trembling, I take it in my hands. It''s so much heavier than I expected; I can feel the weight of my forthcoming actions in its mass. Holding the cold steel in my hands, it all becomes real to me.


    I am going to be in a position where I will have to kill or be killed. I will be firing this thing.


    I look at Miranda, heart pumping nauseous anxiety throughout my body. I don''t know whether to admire her or be disgusted by how little this phases her. I pass her the gun, wanting it out of my hands as quickly as possible. She doesn''t look at me. How can she remain so calm about having to literally take a life?


    ¡°Finally, this is a soul taser.¡± Rex finds the last disgusting contraption from that bag of nightmares. It is a misshapen oddity formed of topaz and silver, two materials good for conducting the soul. It has two nibs of silver at the front and a very thin wire of the metal. ¡°These can obviously only be used at close range, and it works by stunning the Lupine''s soul with the interference of your own. This will render them paralysed. Like the other guns, you''ll have to channel your own soul to use it. To channel the soul, you''ll have to want to harm the Lupine.¡±


    Want to harm the Lupine. Hahaha. Something I''m already extremely lacking in.


    Rex straightens his spine. ¡°Tonight, I want you two to meet me at the shooting range at midnight. We are going to practice firing these weapons.¡±


    Miranda nods. I want to puke. Already, I have a problem with the ethics of these things. We''ve not even reached the murder part yet.


    It''s going to be really difficult for me to even use these weapons.


    ******


    Me and Miranda spend the rest of the day practicing for the recital. Not only am I going to learn how to kill, I will also be performing for my God. There is so much pressure on me it is unreal ¨C the weight of the Luminous One destiny is really starting to strain me. I have to do a good job. I have to please him so we may have his protection back upon the church and stop the murderer once and for all. So much weighs on my performance. I have to show him how much I love him with my voice alone.


    I sing with all my heart. I sing away all my anxieties away; when I am singing, I am free to express myself. I sing until my throat aches, until my heart wells with love for Apollo. Knowing what is to happen tonight, I never want this moment to end. I let my voice glow with all the bottled up emotion that strains my chest.


    When it is time for dinner, I see my target. The hall is bustling with bodies and chatter but there is Timmy, sitting alone at the dining table. I wonder if this kid has many friends; he always has this grim expression on his face that I assume must scare people off.


    I rush my way through the crowd.


    ¡°Timmy ¨C¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    I pause. Timmy''s voice is insanely flat. He chews slowly on his meal, not even regarding me with a single glance.


    I take a seat next to him. He shifts one seat away.


    I decide to just go for it.


    ¡°Timmy, if you can tell me any reason why Father Darius would have any enemies you can help catch this killer. You and me together.¡±


    ¡°Don''t care,¡± Timmy spits. I''ve never heard a child speak with such cold malice before. His youthful face does not match the icy harshness of his words. His eyes look a thousand years old opposed to twelve.


    I narrow my eyes. ¡°You really don''t care if people die?¡±


    Timmy says nothing, sucking in his lips.


    I stare at him in silence for a moment. Just what could make a child act this coldly?


    ¡°Timmy,¡± I say seriously. ¡°Maybe that Lupine killed someone you didn''t like, but if it is allowed to run free, it won''t always be that way. It might be your friend, or even you next. This is serious. It needs to be caught, and I need to know what Father Darius did. ¡±


    ¡°Lorelei,¡± Timmy whispers. His voice is quiet and filled with anger, but it falls into a feeble break. He looks straight ahead, defying all eye contact, but I can see the sparkle of tears filling his iris that he is so clearly trying to hide. His bottom lip quivers as he scrapes his nails across the table into a fist. ¡°I will never, ever, speak to you.¡±


    I sit there, stunned. Timmy gets up and leaves. I don''t bother chasing him. I can see that there''s no coercing it out of him, and I don''t want to cause a scene in public. I slam my hand down on the table with frustration; I rack my brain for an explanation of what would make a child act this way, but can come up with nothing that the church would realistically do.


    I bare my gums. Just what did Father Darious do to this kid?


    I''ll admit that despite the church also being an orphanage, I have no idea how to handle kids. A lot of them parrot the beliefs of adults without really understanding them, which results in a lot of¡­ stares about my appearance. Whenever I do interact with them, I get a lot of ¡°why are you like that? Why do you dress so weird?¡± questions that I don''t know how to answer, so I generally try to avoid them. I have no idea how to get close to him to get the information out of him, but the more grim Timmy''s reaction, the more important I think it is. I must find a way to talk to him. I must find a way to befriend him.


    I decide to eat, trying to rack my brain for a solution. I come up with nothing.


    I have my dinner on my own. I''ll be seeing plenty of Miranda later and it won''t do us any harm to be apart for a while. I want a bit of space. She''s giving me a lot of reasons to believe it could be possible for her to kill.


    I''m not on clean-up duty after dinner today. At this time, a lot of the older kids congregate and play board games ¨C all phases of worship are done for the day, so we may relax. I''ve never liked hanging out in large groups, and I''ve never felt at home with the rest of the teenagers. They don''t say anything around the adults, but when we''re alone they make snide comments and stare. So I go to my dorm with the plan to read and study until midnight. The one good thing about my identity is that it allows me to have a room to myself. Something Miranda is insanely jealous of.


    I collapse onto my bed. I intend to go read, but in the end, I just can''t stop thinking about him. Apollo. My beautiful, perfect God. I wrap a blond lock around my finger and fiddle with it; he makes me feel so strange, I''m all warm and fuzzy inside, elated, yet, irritated, as if there''s an itch I can''t seem to scratch. I think of how he held my hand and butterflies flutter through me. I think of his perfect beaming smile. Those eyes like an endless golden galaxy. I roll over, all giddy inside. He said he loved me. I want to celebrate, but I just can''t seem to believe it to be true. Perhaps I misheard him. Perhaps he was just trying to be kind and not speaking earnestly. Perhaps he was trying to test me by making my heart utterly melt for him.


    The words ¡°your God is a liar flash in my mind.¡±


    I grit my teeth. No. That''s what the killer wants me to think ¨C they want to sew doubts in my mind. I can''t let them get to me. But¡­ could a God really love me? What is there to love? I''m just my weird self, the only one of my kind in the church. No one has ever loved me for who I am. At best they only ever tolerate me. Just what is there to love about something so queer as myself?


    I sigh. I decide to do some reading. I''ll study some wolf theory in preparation for the hunt.


    I grab a book and bury my nose in it. Yet, even as I read, the image of Apollo''s smiling face and beautiful body linger at the back of my mind.


    I shake my head, trying to focus. I have to get my head in the game. Tonight, I''ll be firing those disgusting weapons. Anxiety quells in the pit of my stomach; I can only pray that I can actually fire those things, otherwise, my mission of setting the church straight will be a failure. I have to get this right to save the souls of my followers and every other human thinking about firing those things.


    A lot rests on the upcoming full moon tonight.

 Chapter 6

Stolen novel; please report.

 Chapter 7

    All the blood rushes to my head. My heart drowns away into a sea of black dots and ringing static, and I feel weak inside, knees wavering like paper.


    The killer went into the dorms. Unless they escaped through the window, it''s someone in the church.


    I release a ragged pant. Someone could be dead on the other side of that door.


    I want to run. Yet, something is calling me forward. It''s just like that beautiful music that night ¨C the pied-piper of fate lures me forward. This person is trying to involve me. And I am supposed to be the savior of this church. I can go ahead and hide, but it will catch up to me. There is no running away from this. My legs feel too weak to move, but they are moving.


    This is my destiny. My duty to solve.


    I''ve never been more afraid in my life, but I know I have to greet whatever Hell awaits me on the other side of that door.


    My hand fumbles toward the doorknob. It''s cold. Icy. As if tainted by the cold-blooded nature of the killer. I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head. If something goes wrong, Apollo will protect me, right?


    Deciding just to get it over and done with, I thrust the door open.


    I am met by eerie stillness. Panels of moonlight glare through the corridor. I scan the doors; all looks in order until¡­


    I freeze. A lump slithers through my throat.


    My bedroom door is open.


    The ghastly moonlight illuminates a presumably corpse-like sickness upon my skin. Dread crawls upon every inch of me, and, somehow, I am hit by a premonition. A cold sweat trickles down my forehead; blood is roaring in my ears. I know what''s coming. I know what I''m going to see before I''ve even opened that door.


    My soul leaves my body as I thrust the door open.


    The mattress has been thrown aside. The Lupine book sits open, bundled like a dreadful little present upon my pillow.


    My breathing quivers.


    They know.


    My knees are weak. I sink to my bed, struggling to stand all of a sudden. My teeth begin to jitter ¨C they know I''ve been reading about matebonds. It hits me individually each time, each blow harder than the last. I dig my fingers into my arms, wanting to yell; they know, they know, they know, they know!


    My stomach knots. Aching anxiety rips through me. The killer knows my sin ¨C feeling entirely naked, I am scorned by Apollo''s scornful daylight. I huddle my shoulders and make myself small. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?!


    I grimace. My hand starts to shake as I reach toward the book. I feel so exposed I want to puke. What awaits me inside?


    It''s professional looking cursive ¨C a far cry from the erratic-looking handwriting of the other night. The words tear through me like bullets.


    "Lorelei, you''ve been very naughty, haven''t you? You better be careful. Something bad will happen to you if you get caught.


    PS,


    If you want to find something out, you should look into Terry Shovel.


    I stare at the page for a moment. Then, I jam my nails into my mouth. I''m not really taking in the second part; I''m too stuck on the first. Is that a threat or a warning? No, there''s no way that isn''t a threat ¨C they''re a damn killer! My teeth cut through my nails like freshly trimmed grass; what do I do?! Will they rat me out?


    I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Wait. What was that second part?


    I cringe as I read the page. Terry Shovel. He''s¡­ really weird. Sometimes, he just stares at you, but when you catch him, he keeps staring at you, dead in the eye. I don''t know much about him ¨C he hasn''t been here long. We have two branches of the church so far, and he transferred from the other to here, which is strange because it''s very hard to get in and out of this church. I don''t know why we keep building in the middle of nowhere ¨C if we want to expand, we should go into the big cities, right?


    I shake my head. No, I need to focus on myself right now. I can''t be getting caught up in their little games; first and foremost, I need to figure out what to do to protect myself. I''ve had my time to freak out ¨C now I have to figure out how to act.


    The page is ruined. They wrote it as big and boldly as possible so that I can''t just tear up part of it. But¡­ is it even a good idea to destroy the page? Their handwriting could be handy. My hands clam up just trying to think of trying to hide it. I reach my decision quickly: yeah, no way am I keeping it. I''m dead if it gets found. Larious already hit Miranda with some threats about dungeons. And if I tear it up¡­ well, it''s like the sin never happened. It was just a little chapter that scientifically explained how to trigger mate bonds. Come to think of it, why wasn''t it destroyed before? If I did it, it would probably just seem like a priest destroyed it. I could maybe stop it from swaying some other innocent soul.


    I lick my lips. I know what I''m about to do is wrong. But I want the sin gone and any evidence of it destroyed. Already, I feel so vile being confronted by evidence of my wrongdoings. I make sure to engrave every curve and loop into my mind. I don''t know if it''ll be any help ¨C either they can change their handwriting freely, or it was written by an entirely different person.


    I count when the chapter ends. I decide just to act before the weight of my guilt consumes me further.


    I tear the entire chapter from its hinges.


    Ripping it is almost cathartic; each satisfying tear floods me with much-needed dopamine like a hungry man-eater ripping through flesh. I disembowel it so that no one stands any hope of reassembling it. No one will ever know. I''ll make sure to catch this killer to make up for the progress lost with the destruction of my sin.


    I take a deep breath. I feel better, yet, my skin still crawls with guilt. I pause, looking up at the ceiling. Would he know?


    My heart sinks. Apollo.


    He''s my God. He knows what I do wrong, right? My brow furrows. Would he be disappointed in me?


    I sigh. No, I have to pray to him. I have to apologise. Should I go to the confessional? No, no one can know of this. Can I just tell Apollo? That would be like cutting out the middleman, right? How do I even trigger a conversation with Apollo?


    I start to wonder what I should do. There''s a killer somewhere loose in this building, but presumably, there always has been. I don''t think they can strike in the dormitories ¨C there are too many people there. But what if someone is out of bed? I gnash my teeth. No, I don''t feel good about getting anyone up. There''s no real proof the killer was here. If I tell Larious, there''s a chance he''ll sniff out that I''m hiding something. Miranda would give me advice, but I don''t even know if I can trust her. My stomach twists. Wow, that hurts to think.


    Rex. I''ll go to Rex. He''ll know what to do and protect us. And I really hope that he will not rat me out. He offered us an out, so it should be fine, right? But where does he sleep? Will Ic know?


    I exhale as my eyes narrow at the bedroom door. I just have to get out of the corridor and back into the main hall of the church. Then I can find Ic, and he can take me to Rex.


    Easily done, right?


    I feel vile as I rush through the corridor. The sin weighs me down like an anchor. If I die without confessing to this sin, my very soul is doomed. I must pray. I must get Apollo to protect me while I find Rex.


    My heart riots as I push the doors open. I breathe a small sigh of relief ¨C I have made it to Ic unharmed.


    He sits in the very back row of seats, hunched lifelessly over the seat in front of him with his inky black hair sprawling over his face. Moonlight gently seeps from the stained-glass windows and casts multicoloured prisms like a halo above his head. It''s true what they say ¨C male Lupine are very beautiful. He seems to absorb all the moonlight, and his pale skin looks so vitalised with all that energy that it truly is a sight to behold.


    He doesn''t move an inch as I enter the room. His vacant eyes continue to gaze forward as if his soul is somewhere else. I need to pray. But in my right consciousness, I can''t ignore him. I owe him an apology. And it would be far too easy just to see him as a background accessory just because he doesn''t talk.


    "Um, Ic?" I whisper, fiddling with my fingers. "I''m sorry for making that light. That was obviously upsetting for you. And I''m sorry for pointing that gun at your head. You were just trying to help me."


    He doesn''t look up. Someone could genuinely mistake him for being dead.


    My brow furrows. I don''t know if this person can talk. Rex said he wasn''t sure if he couldn''t or just didn''t want to talk. I don''t even know how much of me he understands, but just in case he doesn''t want to talk, I have to try. I have to show him that I''ll listen.


    "You know¡­" I look down, a bit uncomfortable looking a Lupine in the eyes. "If you don''t talk, you can''t tell anyone what''s wrong. Even if they want to understand you¡­" My eyes flicker over his slumped form. He looks so lifeless and depressed. "People just don''t know how to help you if they don''t know what''s wrong."


    Well, people should still make an effort to understand him anyway, but that''s wishful thinking.


    Of course, Ic doesn''t answer. But he does sit back properly in his chair. As his hair falls back into place, I can see a troubled expression on his face. He turns and looks toward the door.


    "Oh?" I follow his gaze. I''m just glad to have him respond to me in some way. "What is it about the door?" I then remember Rex having a bit of trouble getting him into the church. I note the longing in his mismatched eyes. "Oh. You want to leave, don''t you?"


    Ic''s brow furrows. He sighs.


    I stare at the empty seat next to him. That aura from his skin is softly electric; I feel nervous just at the idea of sitting next to him. That energy makes me tingle merely from being in his vicinity. "You know, sometimes, I also think about running away. But then I remember." I force a pained smile. "I''m the one who''s supposed to lead our church to salvation. And I''ve never been to the outside before."


    Some of the kids have been on the outside, but they never seem to adapt well to our rules. I''ve heard a lot of stories, a lot of scary ones, but a lot of cool things too. There''s a lot of sex, drugs, and horrible things like poverty, but I''ve always wanted to be in a theatre or maybe perform in a concert. People don''t always listen when I talk, but they do when I am singing. The thought of having so many people with their eyes on me¡­ While it is scary, it''s also thrilling. So many people could hear my voice if I performed in a theatre.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    I swallow. I decide to take a seat next to him, but I keep a good amount of space between us. "But it''s my destiny. It''s not something I can escape from. Apollo would be angry at me for letting his church fall into ruin. In a way, it was kind of destiny that you were here too, right? I mean, you were here since you were a puppy. It was your destiny to hunt wolves as much as it was mine."


    Ic grimaces. Crap, did I upset him?


    I''m rambling. It''s hard to keep a conversation with a guy who doesn''t talk. "Hey, I know!'' My voice perks up. "Ic, if you can''t tell people what''s wrong, why don''t you try telling God about it? He can hear you! He can help you! You should try praying!"


    Ic groans and his eyes flicker to the side.


    That was a noise! A negative one, but a noise nonetheless!


    "Come on!'' I say, smiling. Just the thought of sharing my faith with such a godless creature makes my heart glow ¨C I can counter my sin with a good deed. "Praying is great! God hears your sins and relieves you of them. And, best of all, he listens! He''s like your own personal therapist!"


    I reach out but hesitate before taking his hand. I shake my head ¨C no, nothing happened earlier, it''s fine. I take his wrist; Ic starts as I touch him. A gentle static ensnares the point of contact. With how pale he is, he looks like he''d be freezing, but he is actually alluringly warm. I feel a surge of energy tie us together like a ribbon. Even just touching a Lupine soothes my erratic soul.


    "This is my favourite artwork of Apollo," I explain as I lead him forward. "I don''t know why, but I''ve always felt like this one piece has a great energy. It exudes such a positive vibe that it makes me feel really warm inside. You can really feel God glow inside you when you look at this piece."


    Prisms of gold bathe our skin. Ic looks at the artwork with an incredibly puzzled expression. He looks back at me. His eyebrows are raised, and then he furrows them again.


    I look up and smile warmly as I am greeted by Apollo''s big pectoral and sculpted torso. It depicts him bathing with the sun as a halo behind his head ¨C it''s a lot like my dream that night. I get a little dazed as I admire the intricate detail of his muscles; the golden palette of the glass invigorates me with warmth that surges through my core. "It''s beautiful, isn''t it? Some say it''s cursed, but I disagree ¨C it''s clear the artist had a great deal of inspiration of our Lord."


    Ic looks at me and scratches his head.


    I get a little lost as I admire the craftsmanship. I can feel love for my God flow through my veins. It''s not often that I get to look at this piece without looking suspicious. Maybe if I stare at it long enough, I''ll be able to trigger another dream about Apollo where I can talk to him.


    I start as I remember what I''m supposed to be doing.


    "So, uh!" I cross my arms over my chest and mimic the shape of a sun with my fingers. I get to my knees and Ic hesitantly follows. "You just do this and talk to God about what''s been happening to you. He wants to hear. Tell him all your sins. He''ll forgive you."


    Ic closes his eyes. A ray of moonlight shines upon him like a direct link to God. I smile to myself; it''s really nice to see a Lupine praying like this. Maybe I truly can save this creature''s soul.


    I shut my eyes. This isn''t just a demonstration for Ic. I feel my skin itch with sin. I have to cleanse myself and get Apollo''s blessing before I can safely proceed through the church.


    Apollo, please forgive me for reading that book. Perhaps it did taint my body in negative ways. I''m sorry for disappointing you.


    I stay still and silent for a moment. My love for Apollo wells; I can feel my connection to God surge. My body steadily dips into a sense of purity, and I feel cleansed, as if I am bathing alongside him.


    Suddenly, the door bursts open.


    "Lorelei, what are you doing?" Larious asks.


    My stomach lurches. I feel my eyes widen. I start to splutter as I slowly turn.


    Oh, dear God. I was praying to the sexy stained glass, wasn''t I?


    I lick my lips. All of a sudden, the temperature seems to drop. Larious looks down his long, thin nose at me. This man is the polar opposite of Apollo; whereas my God is a warm, melting wave, Larious is a cold, slowly stirring storm. His grey eyes pierce me ¨C they are windows to an icy, unfeeling soul. Yet, I feel the fire in them ¨C the scornful gaze of a man who enacts judgement on his God''s behalf.


    Ic nearly jumps out of skin at the sight of him. He turns paler than a ghost. His chest starts fluctuating; the whites of his eyes devour his iris and his pupils shrink.


    Hey, why are you so scared, Ic? I know he''s scary, but surely this is a bit much, right? I swallow. You''re supposed to protect me. You''ll be able to do that if things go south, right? Right?


    I then realise: Larious is on the move out of bed after a close encounter killer.


    It could very well be him.


    My stomach plummets as I search his eyes. He could very well know my sin with the frost they shear. Ic''s fear is infectious; panic rises like water flooding through my lungs. God dammit, I should have got him to lead me to Rex right away! My hand shivers; I slip it into my pocket and smother the handle of the gun. Okay, I''m armed and he isn''t. I''ve got a Lupine to protect me. Nothing is going to happen here! He may be strict, but he isn''t a murderer!


    I gnash my teeth. But why do I have such a dreadful feeling in my chest?


    Larious'' leather shoes click upon the flooring. His long white robes make him appear to levitate like some otherworldly being as he descends upon us. Ic backs away; his body hits the wall. He grabs onto the ornate wooden protrusions, chest heaving harder with every step Larious takes.


    "Icarus," Larious says lowly. "My, it''s been a while, hasn''t it?"


    Ic starts panting, tense as a statue.


    Larious stops dead in his tracks. "Icarus, just what were you doing with Lorelei?"


    Ic bares his gums. He shakes his head.


    "We were praying!" I stutter.


    "Praying? A Lupine?" Larious ponders. "Lorelei, Lupine are demons made by God to test human temptation. You cannot pray their evil nature away."


    I find myself nodding swiftly. It is only in the presence of Larious do I realise how absurd my idea was. Nothing could ever prepare me for how charismatic and alluring Lupine are. My body tingles merely standing close to him. Anything more and he could lead my soul astray.


    Larious peers down his half-rimmed glasses, his bottom lip stuck out in disgust. "And besides. Why would a creature like you need to pray for? Do you see the common mongrel uttering a prayer for the Lord?"


    My features harden. For some reason, Larious'' words really piss me off. "He is not a dog," I spit.


    I say it without even thinking. My eyes immediately widen as I realise what I have done. Ic looks at me. I steal a glance back; fear still dilates his pupils, but warmth oozes through in the form of an electric blue.


    Larious leers in utter disdain. His features are stony apart from the occasional twitching of his downturned mouth.


    He looks up at the stained glass above me, the golden light illuminating his figure with much needed warmth.


    "Lorelei, you seem to like this particular piece of art a lot, don''t you? I''ve caught you staring at it a few times."


    I swallow. A dirty feeling slithers across my skin. I huddle my shoulders, tucking my chin into my neck. I can''t meet his eye. I''m too ashamed.


    Larious inches closer. I can smell his breath. It''s a ferocious mint that burns my skin. "Lorelei, you are hiding something from me, aren''t you?"


    My stomach pangs. Larious'' eyes flare as our gazes snag; I feel as though a hole has been blown straight through my chest. Those eyes. Those goddamn eyes! They are an icy pierce more wrathful than God''s himself! I have to look away, but in doing so, I radiate dishonesty. Shit! I can''t keep myself from stumbling over my tongue!


    Cold moonlight flashes off Larious'' glasses and illuminates the taunt skeletal structure of his face. "I''ve been thinking. Lorelei. Perhaps being the one who worships isn''t a good fit for you," he says.


    I freeze. "What do you mean?"


    I love my God. Perhaps a little too much. How can worshipping him not be a good fit?


    Larious carefully chooses his words as if slowly sharpening a knife. "There is no hope for you. You were given a one-in-a-billion miracle of a gift, yet you chose to disregard our Lord''s gifts and love with disdain for your own miracle body. You are sneaking around at night with demons and sharing our sacred rituals with them. You lust frequently, and worst of all, you gaze upon our Lord with desire."


    I feel a shiver pass through my spine. My sins crawl like I am swarmed with insects. I am ice cold, yet burning alive at the same time. Cold sweat dribbles down my brow; the prisms of moonlight feel fluorescent all of a sudden, exposing my every sin for the vengeful Lord to judge.


    I cower and splay my fingers in the shape of a sun across my chest. "Please forgive me," I whisper.


    Larious gently lays a hand on my shoulder. "But there is still hope for you."


    My head snaps up. The tears prickling my eyes momentarily cease. Anything. I''ll do anything to be pure.


    Larious'' voice drops. "Lorelei, do not tell a soul about this," he warns.


    I glance at Ic. I can tell by the low growl in Larious'' voice that what he is about to say is in a secretive manner. Yet, he disregards the Lupine completely as if he is furniture in the background.


    I nod quickly.


    "There is no hope to resolve you of your sinful nature. Our only hope is to bend the rules so that they no longer apply to you. Lorelei¡­" Larious'' nails grip my shoulder like a vice. "Here in the Helioist church we believe that those favoured by Apollo have been selected to become Gods. Darius was not just our leader. Within the higher-ups of the church, he was our God. And now, as the one favoured by Apollo, it is your duty to take his place. You must gain enough favour with Apollo until he shares his powers with you, and you must use those powers to protect us from the evil slaying our brethren in the church."


    My eyes widen. Me? A God? No, that can''t be right. Is such a thing truly possible? I don''t remember worshipping Darius. Is Larious lying to me?


    My heart starts racing ¨C the thought is too enticing to think about the faults of what he said. If I could become a God, I could be free. I could absolve myself of my many sins. But the thought of being such an icon and so adored is scary. So many eyes would be on me ¨C there would be even more pressure than there is now. Is this something I have a choice in, or was this decided before my birth? My heart races with excitement, yet my stomach knots with anxiety. Is it truly possible?


    It is then I hear Ic utter a growl. He dashes between us and spreads his arms, baring his teeth.


    His and Larious'' eyes lock.


    "Move, you damn dog, or I''ll forcibly put you back from where you came."


    Ic swallows and his growl wavers. I can see him shake at being so close to Larious, yet he remains rooted to the spot. He does a noble job at standing up for me despite his clear terror at Larious.


    I put my hand on his shoulder. "Ic, it''s okay."


    Ic turns and shakes his head, looking at me with pleading eyes. He starts gesturing wildly.


    "Ic, please get out of the way," I say firmly. "I have to do whatever I can to save my soul."


    Ic''s face sinks. He hangs his head and moves but not before shooting Larious a deadly glare.


    I square my shoulders. "How come I''ve never heard of Darius being a God before?" I ask.


    "Because he was only worshipped by the upper ranks. There are a lot of things you don''t know about the church, Lorelei. Do as I say and it will all become clear to you."


    I narrow my eyes. "And why don''t you do it?"


    "I don''t have the charisma, Lorelei. I can''t be an icon of worship ¨C the church would die under my reign. And even if I wanted to, Apollo has never liked me. He''d never select me. But you¡­" Larious'' charcoal eyes scan over me. "You have more favouritism with God than anyone else. And who am I to question His plan? If Apollo has plans for you, then it is up to me to make sure those plans are good for the church."


    But I don''t have charisma either. Why me?


    "And what would I actually have to do?"


    "You have to not be like Apollo. You must be a God that represents the ideals of the church. There will be people helping you make decisions behind the scenes."


    "But you said I am beyond saving."


    I scowl. Clearly, he doesn''t think I''m a good role model.


    Shadows flicker over Larious'' features as he raises his head. "You will be shaped into one."


    Ic stomps his foot. I look at him and his snarl intensifies; pure loathing blazes from his eyes.


    I ignore him and touch my chest. I don''t know that I have a choice. Larious told me I was beyond saving. Apparently, I was born a sinner. Will I burn if I don''t do something?


    "Can I talk to Apollo about this?" I ask.


    Larious shakes his head. "You must never speak of this to Apollo, Lorelei. If Apollo finds out mortals are trying to get close to him for the sake of gaining power, he will be very angry."


    I hang my head. I don''t want to take advantage of Apollo''s affection for me. Yet, every inch of me writhes with sin. I feel utterly contaminated. The idea of being free of my sins shines like a beacon of light. If I was a God, I''d be free of all of it. Free of the constant dread of being burning in Hell. Free of constantly feeling ashamed. Free to be me.


    But something doesn''t feel right. It seems like there''s some bigger picture Larious isn''t telling me about.


    It is then the door opens. Miranda stands in the doorway, examining her nails with a smirk. Of course she''s out of bed right now. Of course she''s hanging about after a close encounter with the killer ¨C every single time something happens, she is there.


    "Becoming a God, huh?" she purrs. "Now that does sound interesting."

 Chapter 8

    All of a sudden, Larious looks like he''s been hit by a petrification beam. His gaunt cheekbones and dark circles under his eyes make him look like a skeleton glowing in the darkness.


    "Ah, Miss Salem," he calls with undeniable venom seeping through his teeth. This man is doing his best to keep his composure, yet, as he looks at Miranda, his features sour as if he has taken a direct bite of a lemon. "Were you perhaps eavesdropping on our conversation?"


    Miranda gracefully struts from the shadow into the light filtering through the stained glass windows. "What a dangerous thing to say aloud," she muses. She throws her golden curls over her shoulder and her sleek hair glistens like a halo on top. She places her hand on her hip ¨C the sass radiating from this woman is diabolical. "It seems like our current leader does not have an awful lot of faith for our Lord and Saviour."


    Larious is silent for a moment. Then, much to my surprise, he smiles. It looks alien on his face ¨C so deceitful and twisted. He cradles his fingertips together and an ominous shadow passes upon his features.


    "Are you perhaps threatening me?" he asks. ¡°Interesting you feel that you are in a position to do that.¡±


    Miranda''s smile vanishes instantly. "The judgment of God is not quite as direct a threat as your one about dungeons is it, Larious?"" she spits.


    Larious'' brow twitches. He closes his eyes and then mutters what might be a prayer for patience under his breath.


    "Oh you do misunderstand me, Miss Salem," he drawls. His upper lip peels back as he beams. "For you see, we are very much blessed to have two of our Lord due to him ripping his soul into two to make the sun. The one we know is very much an avatar, an imperfect image made for interacting with the imperfect. The real God of creation, the truly omnipotent one, is the literal sun himself. That is who I worship."


    Is that allowed? Can he really speak of Apollo like that without there being repercussions? If that was me or Miranda he''d kill us!  Sure, I suspect there may be people who do not like our current iteration of God in terms of how chaotic he can be, but that doesn''t mean you can say you don''t worship him. He''s still our Lord, imperfections be damned!


    Miranda''s lips tighten and her features constrict into a glower. "Don''t speak about him like that," she warns.


    If Miranda has had no encounter with Apollo then she''s convinced she has ¨C that was absolutely personal. I blink and examine my friend''s face thoroughly as if seeking to examine the imperfections of a counterfeit. I can tell by the creases wrinkling Larious''s brow that he catches how uncharacteristic this is also. Why is she suddenly so interested in God all of a sudden? Until the death of our leader, she refused to even call him her God. Was her encounter with Apollo really that grand?


    "Ohh, I see how it is," Larious mutters, thoughtfully stroking his chin. "Miss Salem, I think I am starting to understand the relation between you and our Lord."


    Miranda''s skin pales. She swallows and reconstructs her glower. What does he mean? Why does she look so startled?


    Larious smirks, spreading his arms wide as he paces forward. "My, my, our Lord is a master storyteller, isn''t he? I must admit, even a dull man like myself could become enchanted by the epic he is weaving. This will definitely be interesting."


    He steps behind me and a shudder runs down my spine. As his icy hands seize my shoulders, I feel as though the very soul has been sucked out of me. His gnarly shadow towers over mine like a demonic rake.


    "Lorelei, how familiar are you with the forbidden scripture?" he asks.


    Trick question. I shouldn''t be familiar with the forbidden scripture at all because it''s forbidden. Yet, the thought of it makes my skin itch with want ¨C I just know there''s stuff about me in there. Or at least, who I''m said to be.


    "I haven''t read the forbidden scripture, sir," I blurt. My foot taps nervously; given my affinity for the forbidden section of the library I''d read it if I could ¨C I just hope he doesn''t figure that out.


    "Lorelei," Larious half whispers, half hisses. His nails dig into my shoulders. "The scripture says there are two prophets."


    My eyes widen. What do you mean there are two prophets? A ball forms in my stomach. This is all I have.


    Larious continues. "Well, to be more precise, there is a true prophet and a false one.¡±


    I feel heat cling to my palms. I''ve had anxieties my whole life that I wasn''t up to this task. You mean to tell me that there''s a chance I was right? That my only chance of salvation¡­ the only opportunity to repent for my many sins, might not even exist?


    My mind is racing. I give myself a shake just as a beat of sweat begins to form on my brow. No, first of all, what does false prophet even mean?


    Larious seems to read my mind. Just when I feel like I''m about to sweat out every inch of moisture in my body, he drops a bombshell revelation.


    "One of you two will bring the church to salvation and one to ruin,'' he states thoughtfully. "The question is, who is who?¡±


    I search Miranda''s eyes who gaze pleadingly back at me. I can tell by the hurt lashing her features that she knows I don''t trust her.


    "Lorelei, he''s trying to brainwash you," she insists. "If Apollo finds out that you''re planning to manipulate him for the church''s gain, you''re finished. Don''t you see how dangerous this is for you?" Her eyebrows knit together as her voice grows louder. "He''s trying to phase Apollo out of his own religion!"


    I''m not trying to manipulate Apollo! Larious might be trying to, but I love my God. I''m considering this because I want to be close to him. How can I be good enough for him if I''m not a god myself? And I was already starting to distrust her! Everytime we have an encounter with the killer, Miranda is there!


    I grit my teeth. So many people want different things from me. Miranda wants me to help lead the church into a new era, Larious wants me to be a God that represents the church''s ideals. And who can even say what Apollo wants of me. What should I do? What is it exactly that I want?


    "Not phase out," Larious remarks. "We can worship multiple Gods. The forbidden scripture depicts a prophecy that the Luminous One will bring about a change in our Lord. Perhaps Lorelei will be able to force our God to a more idealised state."


    A change? By me? But I¡­ well, I know he isn''t perfect, but I love Apollo as he is. The fact that he isn''t perfect makes me feel better about myself. I don''t want to change him at all. Is that a sign that I''m the false prophet?


    ¡°I wonder,¡± Larious ponders lightly, ¡°is the one considered to be the true prophet by the church the same as the one considered to be the true prophet by Apollo?¡±


    That is a terrifying prospect I¡¯d never considered. Apollo likes to cause as much chaos as possible. What he considers to be an ideal prophet may not be ideal for the actual followers of his religion. If it''s what the church wants, then I''m a better fit. But if the true prophet is the one that''ll cause the most disruption, it''s Miranda.


    ¡°Stop trying to pit us against each other!¡± Miranda yells.


    I stare at her. I see animosity blazing through her eyes, as well as genuine love for me. Yet, I wonder if doubts twinkle back in my own. I want to believe her so badly, but everything from the hands of fate to downright bad timing, is pitting us against each other. I need to talk to my friend. I need to regain my trust in her. I stare into her eyes, trying to communicate that something is wrong, that there is something making me distrust her. But unless it is one of them, neither of these two know that the killer was here right now. I need to let them know but I don¡¯t trust in my ability to not let them know I¡¯m hiding something. But I must. No one else can die on my watch. My sin has wasted enough time already.


    ¡°The killer was here,¡± I say suddenly.


    Larious¡¯ face remains a mask as always. Definitely cold and detached enough to be up to the task,  but I can see suspicion creeping through it in the slight narrowing of his eyes. I snatch my eyes away; my scrutinizing glare could burn holes through Miranda. Her eyes widen and then as she catches me staring, flicker away.


    For some reason, she cannot meet my eye.


    My heart sinks.


    ¡°How do you know, Lorelei?¡± Larious demands.


    ¡°Apollo told me in a dream. I went to go warn someone.¡±


    That''s got to be what Larious wants to hear. I am a prophet, after all. The fact that I''m trying to save my church should put me on his good side.


    He steps closer. ¡°And why didn¡¯t you say something before now?¡±


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°I have no proof but my intuition, and to be frank, I doubt my own abilities. I was worried people may doubt their prophet if nothing came to be.¡±


    Shadows dance over Larious¡¯ features as he turns to Miranda. Cold hatred steels his eyes. ¡°And why are you out of bed?¡±


    ¡°I was away to meet someone,¡± Miranda says matter of factly.


    A boyfriend? I want to slap my hands to my face. Miranda why?!


    ¡°A boy, Miss Salem?¡±


    ¡°Miranda stop!¡± I snap.


    I know she''s milliseconds away from telling him yes. Miranda doesn''t care. But she can''t say that aloud. She''s a goddamn idiot!


    They both look at me. I realise by the look on their faces that this was uncharacteristic of me. I can''t let him think I was warning her though. I have to appear on his side.


    ¡°You''re going too far,¡± I blurt. I try to say it pointedly, but it comes a little weak.


    Miranda''s brow flickers downward.


    Larious stares soulessly at her.


    ¡°Well?¡± she asks. ¡°What will you do now, Larious?¡±


    My teeth puncture my lip, nerves spindling down my spine. Larious can''t keep ignoring her. She''s deliberately taunting him. He has to do something.


    ¡°I''m not going to do anything,¡± Larious replies.


    ¡°What?¡± Both me and Miranda speak in unison.


    ¡°Do you think I am stupid?¡± Larious asks lightly. ¡°I know there is something going on between you and our Lord. I believe you when you say you were chosen by him. Why? Because you''re the candidate who least represents the church''s ideals. I think he likes that about you. I think he knows that making you his prophet will cause lots of problems. I also don''t think our Lord could stand the idea that you didn''t love him. I think he made it his duty to personally change that. But I''ll never admit to knowing all this in public. And you''ll never gain popularity until you start conforming to our ideals.¡±


    That''s it? He''s just going to let her do as she pleases? That''s hardly fair!


    Miranda looks as stunned as I am.


    No, something isn''t right. Larious will not stand for this. He''s just going to be smarter with how he deals with her.


    ¡°Miranda, Apollo is not an omnipotent God! You can''t blindly depend on him for protection!¡± I plead.


    Miranda turns. She makes her way to the great wooden doors and I rush to stop her. I snatch Miranda''s hand; she shoots a glare back at me.


    ¡°Don''t go,¡± I whisper.


    Please. Please don''t disobey Larious like this. It won''t be good. You''ll be banished.


    Miranda looks down. I know she can''t face the desperation in my eyes. She nods her head but I don''t believe her. I don''t believe that she isn''t going to sneak out later on.


    ¡°Hmph,¡± Larious heaves. It''s almost like he wanted her to disobey him so he could punish her. But the threat about whatever the hell is in the dungeons looms. Miranda is way too relaxed about this whole deal. ¡°Get Rex. Let''s do a head count.¡±


    I know his expectations on whether or not I''m up to the task of being a prophet will depend on whatever is or isn''t found.


    ****


    ¡°You did what?!¡± Rex bellows.


    Me, Ic and Rex are now alone. Miranda went away, supposedly to bed, but I have a feeling she''s away to meet someone. All I can do is pray she heeds my warning and doesn''t get caught.


    Everyone in the church is accounted for. No one is dead. As much as I am glad everyone is alive, I know it isn''t good for me as a prophet that my so called revelation was false. But that''s an anxiety I''ll have to deal with later.


    I clench my eyes tightly shut. ¡°I had to do it!¡¯


    Rex bares his teeth, psychically red. ¡°Lorelei, you destroyed the only evidence from the killer!¡± he shouts, slamming his hands down on the table. ¡°What the fuck were you thinking?!¡±


    Ic winces. I wonder if he''s disappointed in me or if simply all the yelling was distressing to him. Either way, I can''t look him in the eye.


    ¡°I know!¡± I yelp. My eyes open. I lick my lips; the words really don''t want to come out. ¡°The killer mentioned something bad I did. I''d be finished if it got out!¡±


    Rex and Ic look at each other. Rex takes a deep breath for composure. ¡°Lorelei, what did you do?¡±


    I grimace. I don''t know if I can trust him. Yes, Rex is different from the church, but I shouldn''t go around unnecessarily blurting things out he doesn''t need to know.


    Dragging his hand down his face with a sigh, he softens his tone. ¡°Lorelei, I don''t care what you did. I''m not going to tell anyone. But I need the full context in case it''s relevant to the killer. I need to know why they are looking to involve you.¡±


    I peek one eye open. I can see Ic staring at me. His eyes are gentle, a calming shade of cerulean like the sky. He gives an encouraging nod and I feel a wave of relaxation ooze through me. I feel like if Ic trusts Rex, I can too. The question is why do I value his opinion so much? Why do I feel so at ease when I look into this creature''s eyes?


    Not creature. Person, I correct myself.


    ¡°I was reading about mate bonds!¡± My voice starts off quiet then gives a sort of hysteric crack at the end. My cheeks feel as though they''re on fire; the judgemental eyes cutting through me make me want to die. ¡°N-nothing bad though! It just explained the effects scientifically and how to trigger them!¡±


    Rex sucks in his cheeks. His lips purse as if trying to smother it, but a crooked grin explodes upon his face. Then he erupts with laughter.


    ¡°Lorelei,¡± Rex says with a devious grin, ¡°if you want to know about them maybe you should ask Ic to help. Scientifically, of course. Hands on learning is always best, right?¡±


    Ic nearly jumps out of his skin. His cheeks bloom with pink and his head shakes so fast it blurs, a pleading expression on his face. He frantically waves his hands back and forth.


    ¡°No, it''s not like that!¡± I insist. If cringe was fatal I''d be passed out on the floor.


    Rex wraps an arm around Ic and rubs his fist into his black waves. ¡°Icky boy, you do seem rather embarrassed. So do you, Lorelei.¡±


    Ic''s cheeks redden but he shoves Rex away forcefully. His finger slices through the air and he points at me ¨C  this is the first time I''ve seen him look genuinely pissed off. He huddles his shoulders and clutches his arms, giving a very exaggerated shake. His actions are so over the top, like an actor in a play, that I don''t think he''s acting like this because he''s scared, but rather, is trying to convey the fact that I am. I blink, warmth flipping through my stomach. I appreciate that Ic respects my boundaries. It''s not easy being around a creature I''ve been told all my life will prey on me, especially when things like mate bonds come into play.


    ¡°Ic, I''m not sure what you''re trying to say,¡± Rex admits.


    Ic nudges Rex. He extends an arm with his fist bundled.


    ¡°Oh?¡± Rex blinks. ¡°You have something for me?¡±


    Ic nods. Rex opens his palm. Ic¡¯s fist touches his palm then slowly his wrist twists around.


    Ic sticks the middle finger up at him.


    Rex¡¯s mouth drops. ¡°Don''t you take that tone with me young man!¡±


    Ic swaggers away and extends both middle fingers as he makes his way to the exit.


    ¡°Oh you think you''re so big just because you can say fuck you with a gesture!¡± Rex snaps, hands racing to his hips. ¡°Well guess who taught you that! You and I will be having words about this later, Icarus!¡±


    Pausing in the doorway, Ic gives him a dubious look, arched eyebrow radiating attitude. If I had to guess I would have to assume that looks meant ¡°with what words?¡±


    Ic slams the door shut and leaves.


    Rex waits until he is clearly gone and grabs me by the shoulders. Suddenly, he looks like he''s about to start sobbing. ¡°Lorelei, what did I do?¡± he pleads, shaking me. ¡°What was he trying to say with those shakes and stuff?¡±


    I resist the urge to roll my eyes. ¡°He''s saying not to push it with the dating stuff because I''m scared of him.¡±


    I don''t see how that can''t be obvious to him. They tell us Lupine will eat our souls if we get sexually involved with them. I have every right to be uncomfortable.


    ¡°Oh?¡± Suddenly, the desperation in Rex¡¯s eyes is replaced with a glint. Somehow, I get the feeling he''s not respecting Ic¡¯s wishes at all.


    ¡°I see,¡± he muses quietly, thoughtfully stroking his chin. ¡°You seem to understand him very well, don''t you? I''ve known him a lot longer and even I couldn''t guess that one. Most people don''t even look at him, nevermind understand what he is saying.¡±


    I look away. What is he getting at?


    Rex beams a wide, toothy grin.  ¡°Lorelei, from now on, I want Ic by your side. I''ll tell Larious that I want him sleeping outside your bedroom door.¡±


    What?!


    Presumably reading the outraged expression on my face, Rex waggles a finger.  ¡°Don''t look at me like that,¡± he retorts. ¡°You''re in danger Lorelei. The killer wants to involve you and, while I wouldn''t say your progress with the weapons is bad, it''s not enough for me to think you''re safe. I think you and Ic should deepen your friendship and work together to fight. You can ride on his back and he can help you fire the weapons. If I were you, I''d be pleased. You''ll be way safer with him around.¡±


    I slam my hand to my chest and raise my head. I intend for it to look nobel, however I accidentally slap my breasts and not only is it painful, suddenly my whole day is ruined after being reminded they exist. ¡°I cannot be getting close to him!¡± I blurt, hoping Rex did not notice that. ¡°I''m supposed to be a prophet; I can''t be seen getting close with his kind!¡±


    ¡°His kind?¡± Rex asks, looking down upon me with an arch of his eyebrow. ¡°Oh I get it. You don''t want to be seen with a disabled boy.¡±


    My mouth falls agape, half horrified, half outraged. ¡°That is not what I meant and you know it!¡± I snap. ¡°It''s purely because he is Lupine!¡±


    ¡°Lorelei, let me tell you something,¡± Rex spits, prodding a finger into my face. ¡°It is not fucking easy for him. Do you know how hard it is to make friends when you''re mute? Do you know how hard it is to connect with people when they view you like a piece of furniture purely because you don''t speak? Do you know how hard it is to cope in a place where they view you as a literal monster that wants to eat their souls?¡± He breaks eye contact and his voice drops to a horse whisper. ¡°They tortured him here, Lorelei. Everyday here is a struggle for him. Every day he''s here he is reminded of that. He needs more support than just me.¡±


    My chin recoils into my neck. I open my mouth but nothing comes out ¨C I am at a loss for words. When he puts it like that, there''s nothing I can say that doesn''t make me sound like an utter shit head.


    ¡°What did they do to him?¡± I whisper.


    ¡°I don''t know Lorelei,¡± Rex says quietly. ¡°It''s not like he can exactly say, can he? Unless someone can make him say words, he''ll carry that burden alone forever.¡±


    ¡°How do you know he was tortured if he won''t say?¡±


    ¡°Lorelei, I found him in a dungeon being raised by a literal dog. He was shit scared entering this building. He''s also shit scared of Larious and shit scared of bright lights. I think these things are all connected. If I had to guess, I think something happened that made him not want to speak.¡±


    I drag my hand down my face. What on Earth did they do to that poor young man?


    I sigh. I understand completely what it feels like to be discriminated against. If I feel like an outsider here, I can''t imagine how he feels.


    ¡°I¡­can work together with him,¡± I mumble. My sad expression quickly grows pointed. ¡°But this is not a small favour you''re asking of me. I''m finished if they get the wrong idea of me and this Lupine.¡±


    ¡°As long as you''re with Ic, you''ll be safe Lorelei. And if something happens¡­ we''ll come find you. We can''t let anything happen to Ic¡¯s only friend.¡±


    I swallow. So I''m officially Ic¡¯s friend, I guess. I may be safe from the killer with him around, but my own brethren may turn on me purely because the two of us are close.


    ¡°Do you think Larious will allow this?¡±


    ¡°Well if he doesn''t, we can rule him as a major suspect as he''s putting your personal safety at risk. And it''s not like I''m planning to have Ic sleep in your bedroom or anything; he doesn''t mind the floor so outside the door will be fine.¡±


    I sigh. ¡°Okay. Well, I''ll be going then. I can do as you ask, but me and Ic will need to train together.¡±


    I make my leave. As I open the door, Rex calls after me.


    ¡°Oh, and one last thing, Lorelei. Just so you know¡­ In a soul bond, you can communicate with thoughts alone. If we could get Ic a mate, he would be able to communicate with them. He would be able to have conversation with someone. He would be able to talk about his trauma. I see Ic more like my son, however, if I see anyone I think he has a good thing going with, you bet your ass I''m going to be the best damn wingman there is. Let me know if anyone comes to mind.¡±


    I freeze. A gust of fury blasts through my body. I slam the door shut with a thunderous bang and storm like a hurricane through the corridor.


    There''s only so much you can ask of me, Rex.