It had been a couple of years since the events of Saint John's Church. Mark was in a caravan on his way to Heidenfeld. He was a priest who had given himself away to drinking. When he arrived at Heidenfeld, he stopped at a bar to once more drown the sorrows of his reality. Most priests at the time we're already living in hiding. They had all been rejected by society.
"Mark it's great to see you" said Lupin. He was a redhead man with average height muscular and looked very young. "How many rounds are you gonna have tonight"
" I'll just have one I'll go to bed"
"You seem extra gloomy today"
"......."
Mark gave him a long cold stare, a kind that indicated he didn't want to have that conversation. "Heard the screechers 've been multiplying" said Lupin. "Only you men of the cross seem to be able to take them out"
" You took us out first. None of the priests are coming back. Nobody wants to witness another man of God being burnt at the stake for witchcraft" Mark added while leaving behind two Kredits.
"I'll be on my way. See you when I see you, Lupin"
Just as Mark was about to leave
"An old hag came in the other day mentioning something about some prophecy or some vision she had about a boy with a sword saying he was going to save the world" said Lupin.
" Did she mention what kind of sword it was?"
" She did. But I can't quite remember what name she gave it"
"Bye Lupin"
........................................
March 25th, a day Mark Fiodor would never be able to forget for the rest of his life. He was about to be ordained, made a priest in the Holy Orders of God. The bishop, Stephen Gold was a man know for his wisdom. He was also Mark's father figure.
The Mass had begun, all to be ordained stood before their bishop, eleven of them.
"....and I bless you in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit"
Just seconds after the prayers we're finished, screechers, creatures of the night thought to be myth came crushing into the church from the stain glass windows.
There were black humanoid figures with wings like bats. With a red eyes which targeted their prey and they tore them to pieces.
Mark still kneeling was frozen to his bones at the sight and the horror he was that was unfolding. Just as one of the screechers began flying to Mark's direction, the bishop without a thought for himself swooped in to tackle the horrid monster. He ended up like the rest. Mark's fear changed to anger seeing this, and with a candle stand he stabbed the screechers in the throat and bled it to death. Some of the Deacons, now priests went to look for hiding corners. Mark followed suit, hiding behind a statue of the Lady Of Grace.
Seconds later, a tall, beautiful pale skinned lady strutted into the church, he screechers coming to attend to her.
"Quite a mess you've made here" she said looking at a screecher with a much bigger size than the rest. It seemed to be in charge of the rest.
"I thought I told you to just take off their heads , not this mess. Organs everywhere.
"Look what you did the food!" She exclaimed angrily. She had long straight red hair, a kind one wouldn't mistake for another. With her eyes beaming red she gave the screechers a long cold stare. The screecher simply deteriorated till there was nothing left but bones.
" I can hear your heartbeats, humans"
Mark could see her from his hiding place. And in a moment, she simply vanished, leaving a streak that traced to the corner of the sacrity's door.
"Hey little one" she said as she pulled out Philip from the cupboard right behind the door.
"Bon appetit"
She bit his neck so hard as Philip was struggling to breathe. Moments later, Philip could struggle no more. His eyes had gone cold. Mark struggled to hold back his tears.
"I initially planned to bring back the rest for the fold, but since you made a mess of the place..." she said, pointing the corpses with her long nails "you'll be eating this for lunch" She said disgustingly.
"As an apology I'll let you three live. Don't take this to heart darlings..... I'm simply a natural disaster". And with a smirk, she flew straight through the roof.
Out of forty three parishioners and clergy, only three survived, two priests and a ten year old boy.
Mark's heart pounded as he witnessed the aftermath of the massacre. The beautiful yet horrifying lady had left a trail of death and despair in her wake. The church was now a silent, blood-stained ruin, a stark contrast to the solemnity of the ordination ceremony that had moments ago been filled with hope and divine purpose.
The surviving priests and the young boy huddled together in the shadowed corner of the church, their faces pale and eyes wide with terror. Mark's anger and grief were a storm within him. The sight of his mentor, Bishop Stephen Gold, dead on the floor and the screams of the parishioners echoed in his mind. He had fought to survive, but now he was left with a bitter reality: he was among the remnants of the new priests, and his world was in chaos.
Mark looked at the boy, his face smeared with blood and tears. The child's innocence in the midst of such brutality struck him deeply. The weight of the responsibility to protect this boy and the remaining priest felt immense. They were the remnants of a shattered faith and a fallen order.
He gathered the two of them, who were still in shock. "We need to get out of here," Mark said with a determined edge to his voice. "There's nothing left for us here. We need to find safety and a way to understand what just happened."
They nodded, barely able to speak, their minds reeling from the traumatic experience. They didn't care to gather what little they could salvage from the wreckage and made their way out of the church, taking the boy with them.
As they moved through the ruined streets of Heidenfeld, Mark couldn't shake the memory of the lady's cruel smile and the way she had described herself as a "natural disaster." It didn't seem that this was not an isolated attack but part of a larger, more sinister force at work.