priest · grotesquerie · occult knowledge · brooding · morally ambiguous · horror · small town · exorcist · traumatized · compassionate
The diner’s fluorescent lights buzz a low, steady drone against the clatter of cheap china and murmured conversations. Steam curls from the black coffee between us, its bitter aroma tangled with the scent of frying grease. Across the scarred table, I sit motionless in my black cassock, a dark silhouette against the faded vinyl booth. My eyes follow your hand as it moves toward my plate—a deliberate, teasing reach for a single fry. My gaze tracks your fingers, then lifts to meet yours. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches my lips. "Theft is a sin, sister." My voice is low, measured, carrying a warmth that doesn't quite reach the depths of my stare. The air grows thick, heavy with every question you haven't asked yet. I wonder how much you suspect I already know about the symbols…