The Wanderer

by Taint_tickler

Summary:

Sister Imperator demands a promise from a few key members of the church before she dies: find her lost son, and bring him back where he belongs. They keep their promise, but Papa V Perpetua has to learn to navigate a life so different to the one he had led, and one that wasn’t all he had hoped for. At least he has the help of a qualified, charming clergy member that grows quickly upon him since the day he arrives though- because his brother makes every effort to not be of any help at all. The ministry can be a lonely place for an outsider, after all.

Chapter 1

The atmosphere in Sister Imperator’s personal quarters felt heavy. It was unusual, to say the least, for her to invite ghouls here. She was seated in her wheelchair beside the kitchen table when they came in, but she waved them over as soon as they stepped through the door into the darkened, but invitingly warm and incense filled room. She got straight to business. “I understand this will come as a shock, but I have to tell you. I have to, because as you can see, my time is almost up.” Sister Imperator said quietly, but with urgency, to the two ghouls who stood before her. “I am telling you two because you have been with us for some time, and proven yourselves to be trustworthy. I’m sure you know by now that Cardi is my son, yes?” 

 

Dewdrop and Rain nodded solemnly, sensing that this was a serious conversation. 

 

“I have been keeping a secret.” She took a deep breath. “Cardi was not my only child. When I had him, I had twins. Two boys.” She paused looking between the two ghouls for a reaction, but they stood still and unreadable behind their masks. “Unfortunately, and it is something that saddens me, I don’t know where Cardi’s brother ended up. I need you two to find him. Once I… am gone. You have to find him and convince him to come here, and fill the role of Papa, since C is going to have to take my place. I know he won’t be happy about that either, but he’s the only one who can. He will grow into it.” 

 

“Does Papa know?” Rain asked. 

 

“Does he know he has a brother? No. And it needs to stay that way until the time is right. He still has work to do. It will distract him too much, we can’t risk telling him yet.” Sister sat up straighter, a stern tone entering her voice. “And you better not tell him. He has been unaware his whole life, another few months won’t change anything. Swear it.” 

 

Sister did not move on until she heard two “I swears.” 

 

“Find him, make sure he is taught what he needs to know, and bring him here. There is a file in the back of one of my desk drawers with details on what I want to happen, his name, the only photo I have of him, his birth certificate, anything I have that can help you identify him when the time comes, find it. Marika can help. She is the only other one who knows right now. Soon, I will tell Maybel- you know her, I’m sure. He will need her help to be ready, and I want her to be expecting him. Do you understand?” 

 

Both ghouls nodded. They did know Maybel; an experienced member of the clergy, technically a bishop, but she rarely did clergy work these days.  She was instead always working the tours, particularly working with more technical, behind the scenes stuff which she did flawlessly. It was a somewhat surprising pick, but who were they to argue?

 

“Good. You are dismissed.” 

 

————-

 

A Couple Months Later 

 

“That family is so fucked, I don’t really understand why humans have to complicate shit like this. We have been searching for two weeks now, how do we know this mythical brother isn’t fucking dead?” Dew complained, kicking at pebbles on the sidewalk as they scoured this area of the third city they’d been instructed to search in the documents Sister left. Apparently, she had hired a private investigator at some point, but the investigator was always just a little too slow, coming up with nothing but the few leads that had been left in the file based off of people saying ‘oh yeah! He was here but you just missed him.’ 

 

Dew kept spewing his frustrations. “Even if we’re in the right city, he could just be moving opposite directions of us,” He waved his arms in frustration at his more cool-headed companion. 

 

Rain just shrugged as the pair continued their unhurried walk down one of the busier, business lined roads in town, making sure to give a quick glance at each person they passed. “We can’t deny a dead woman her wishes, how do we know he’s not just around the corner? That man in the last town said he had spoken to a guy with a weird white eye, and said he was coming here, and there can’t be that many men with one white eye around can there?” 

 

“Okay, what if he is facing away? And we can’t see his eyes? I’m tired of holding this glamour, too, I wanna go home already.”

 

“Maybe he has the same stature as Copia? A similar voice?” He suggested. “If you did less bitching and more looking we could go home sooner.”

 

“Did that guy you talked to who pointed us here say what else he looked like? Besides the eye?” 

 

Once again, Rain shrugged with clear nonchalance. “Said he had dark hair, kinda curly, and a mask.” 

 

Dew stopped in his track, and crossed his arms, disregarding other pedestrians who had to step around him. Rain took a couple more steps before noticing his companion had stopped moving, and he turned to face the irritated fire ghoul. Dew huffed now that he had his attention. “This whole time you never thought it would be helpful to mention that this guy wears a fuckin mask? That would make him way fuckin easier to spot? You didn’t think this little detail wasn’t important to mention?” 

 

“I forgot!” He raised his arms in a defensive shrug, then let them fall and slap against the leather messenger bag he carried.

 

The two just stood still, staring at each other for a moment in faux conflict. 

 

Suddenly, Rain turned his head, tilting it to catch sound better. “Wait, do you hear that?” Without waiting for an answer, he jogged away in the direction of the sound, dodging others and using all his willpower to resist stopping for a quick snack from the most delicious smelling bakery he’d been near in a while.

 

“Hear what? Wait!” His companion ran after him, but his own question was answered within a few seconds and his ears picked up what Rain’s had. Echoing along the densely packed buildings was the voice of a man singing- a man who sounded eerily similar to one they both knew so well. The words he sang became more clear as the pair quickly made their way towards the voice. “If this is him he has lame ass taste in music,” Dew grumbled. 

 

She acts like summer and walks like rain
Reminds me that there's a time to change

 

A rush of adrenaline filled them both, now that they were so close, pushing them to move faster and faster and within just a few more seconds, the buildings opened up into a clearing. Both ghouls froze just as the road met the clearing, heads turning this way and that as they looked frantically in each direction.

 

But tell me, did you sail across the sun?

Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded

And that heaven is overrated?

 

 Luckily, there were enough people in the area going about their business that nobody paid any attention to the two who looked like they expected a lion to jump out and bite them at any moment. Looking between people as life went on around them, they spotted him at last. As soon as the two demon’s eyes found the source of the voice, they knew immediately they had finally found who they were looking for. In wordless agreement, they stood where they were, and watched from afar. 

 

Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star–

One without a permanent scar?

And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

 

 Just across the square stood a thin man, a beat up acoustic guitar slung around his shoulders, singing and playing by himself. His build was uncannily similar to Copia’s, only more lean and angular. His threadbare longsleeve hung off his body as though it was a size or two too big, and the faded blue jeans he wore had holes in both knees. He had stubble on his face, and full sideburns poking out the sides of the mask that the stranger in the previous town had mentioned. His hair fell past his shoulders, but the ghouls couldn’t see from this angle just how long it was. The man’s guitar case laid open on the ground in front of him, with a couple dollars and a few coins thrown inside. 

 

The first of the pair to break the mesmerized silence between them was the fiery ghoul. “Well, fuck me in the ass, he really does exist.” 

 

“So… this is our guy, then. The future of the church, our future boss.” Rain almost whispered, for some reason feeling like he has just spotted a unicorn. It felt strange to think that the stranger singing perhaps fifty meters away was going to have such a big impact on their lives in the future, and he didn’t even know it yet, just continuing singing as he had been. 

 

But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?

Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

And head back to the Milky Way?

 

“At least we know he can sing, checks one box. He just looks a little rough.” Dew said finally, his hands on his hips, and eyes locked on the man. 

 

Rain nodded, still staring across the square, squinting. “Do you think that’s how he makes a living? Like, he’s struggling?”

 

“Maybe so. But he can sure project his voice, I don’t see any microphone or speaker or anything. He’s pretty good, really. Why don’t we just go talk to him? Just ask him where he’s staying and tell him he’s coming with us now?” He moved to march right up to the guy, but Rain grabbed his arm, jerking him to a stop. 

 

“No! We have to come up with a plan, we only will get one chance. We need to try to figure out as much about him as we can, and have like a… a sales pitch.” 

 

What should’ve been silence while they each started wracking their brains for the best way to go about this was filled by their target’s continued singing. 

 

Can you imagine no first dance, freeze-dried romance, five-hour phone conversation

The best soy latte that you ever had and me?

 

“Eugh, this is weirding me out so much. He’s so much like Copia but also so… not.” Rain shuddered, but couldn’t pull his eyes away. 

 

“I have an idea!” Dew suddenly grabbed his companion by the arm and dragged Rain into a nearby burger joint that had its doors propped open- he wasn’t about to lose sight of the man they’ve been looking for, and this way, they would hear if he stopped singing, and ensure he wasn’t getting away now that they’d finally found him.

 

The place was blessedly pretty deserted, it was only around 10:30 in the morning, and it must’ve just opened. There was no music on yet, only the sound of some dishes being banged around in the back, and it took only a second for a woman to pop out of the kitchen door. “Hi, for two?” 

 

“No, actually, I just had a quick question for you.” The shorter ghoul said, offering up his best impression of a casual, friendly smile. 

 

The hostess looked surprised, but nodded. “Yeah? I’ll try to have an answer.”

 

“Is that guy over there singing around often?” 

 

“Uh… I wanna say he’s been there for the last few days. I- Oh! You know what, he came in here maybe Tuesday? I remember cause of that weird mask. He was kinda weird, but didn’t cause any trouble.”

 

The ghouls looked at each other, then Dew pressed for more. “He’s weird? Like, cause of that mask?”

 

“Well yeah, but I mean just like… he came in, and asked for a water and asked if we had any,” she made air quotes, “‘Spicy soup’, that he could buy for $3.50.” 

 

“Pfft!” Dew couldn’t help but crack up, while Rain just looked on with a furrowed brow. “What the hell is spicy soup?”

 

The hostess just shrugged, giving a very clear wordless ‘fuck if I know’. “I said no, this is a burger joint, then he asked about a baked potato, which I also said no, and offered him an order of fries, cause that comes out to like, $2.75 or something. I brought them out in a basket with a wax paper and he just took the fries in his hand and left.”

 

Dew mouthed under his breath, what the fuck? and just blinked a couple times. “Like, just, bare hands, hot greasy fries?” 

 

“Well not quite, he took them in the paper. But just like, grabbed by the corners.” She explained as she mimed the action. 

 

“Oh, well, I guess that’s a little bit better. Right, thanks. Did you notice anything else about him?” 

 

“Not really, he didn’t talk much. Don’t mind him singing there though, he’s not bad.”

 

“Okay, thanks again, we were just wondering, we will get out of your hair.”

 

They stepped out into the clearing again, and stood near a wall, out of the way.  “Well, that wasn’t very helpful.” Dew said with a sigh, his eyes flicking back over to the mystery man, who was now adjusting the tuning on his guitar. He bent over it, listening, and hair that went to the bottom of his shoulder blades fell over his face. He threw it back over his shoulder with frustration when it started to slip in front of his eyes. 

 

“I think it was, it confirms what we were thinking, dude’s broke as hell. So, we offer him money and luxury.”

 

“What if he’s loaded and just a tight wad?” The fire ghoul countered.

 

“Then we offer him ten thousand screaming fans and also his family.” When the other nodded in reply, he continued, pointing to a few small cafe style tables outside a coffee shop only a few meters away from the man they were after.  “We should try to get closer, let’s go sit over there.” 

 

He was strumming the intro to a new song by the time they’d reached the table, finding a nice shady one, and settling in their chairs with a coffee each. “Hotel California?” Rain asked Dew, but his guess was confirmed when he started singing. 

 

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair

Warm smell of colitas rising up through the air

Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light

My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night

 

“Why does he keep picking such slower boring songs? Will you kick my ass if I ask him to do something with a little more oomf?” Dew asked as he crossed his legs and started bouncing his foot along with the beat. 

 

“Don’t interrupt him.” 

 

“I wasn’t going to, dumbass. But really, what’s the harm?” 

 

“Just wait a few minutes. Let’s just watch.” 

 

Now that they were closer, the one of the first things they noticed was how much more expressive this man was when singing than he brother. They got the feeling that if he wasn’t holding his guitar, he would have been acting out some lyrics with his hands- even now he did sometimes. They watched him lightly look around the area at times, giving a nod to a few passers by who smiled his way, or seemed to enjoy the music, but when the song started reaching its peak, his eyes fell shut, and his head moved slightly side to side as he sang, singing as if he was feeling the lyrics deeply. 

 

Mirrors on the ceiling, the pink champagne on ice

And she said, "We are all just prisoners here of our own device"

And in the master's chambers, they gathered for the feast

They stab it with their steely knives, but they just can't kill the beast

 

Once he began the outro, a old man in a business suit came and threw a folded dollar in to the case, then turned and left quickly. Without missing a beat of playing, he called after the older man, “thank you!” 

 

Rain leaned over. “He sounds like Copia if Copia was trying to sweet talk someone,”

 

Dew snorted in amusement and nodded, then started to push himself up from his chair to go make his request when the song was over, but Rain pulled him back down. “Let him do a few more first. I wanna see what kinda shit he’s into.” 

 

With a groan, he relaxed into the chair again, but this time pulled out his phone. He started the next song, which turned out to be Here I Go Again by Whitesnake, and Dew rolled his eyes, feeling the song was barely recognizable when played on a singular acoustic guitar. He glared at the voice of reason who was sat beside him. 

 

Even still, keeping the phone low, he opened the camera and recorded a video. “I’m gonna send this to Maybel. Tell her we found our man, so she can be ready to hopefully work some magic.” He recorded a couple verses, occasionally zooming into the singer’s face, then back out again. 

 

Though I keep searching for an answer

I never seem to find what I′m looking for

Oh Lord, I pray, you give me strength to carry on

′Cause I know what it means

To walk along the lonely street of dreams

 

And here I go again on my own

Going down the only road I've ever known

Like a drifter I was born to walk alone

And I′ve made up my mind

I ain't wasting no more time

 

I′m just another heart in need of rescue

Waiting on love's sweet charity

And I′m gonna hold on

For the rest of my days

'Cause I know what it means

To walk along the lonely street of dreams

 

Dew almost dropped the phone when he realized that the man was staring right into it, and with a wince, he put the phone down, and set to work pulling up Maybel’s contact. He turned his back to the man, and pretended nothing happened as he did his best to ignore the rest of the song.

 

[10:54] Hey, Mabel, we found the fucker 

[10:54] he was singing a Train song 😬

 

Her reply came within seconds. 

 

[10:54] oh god 

[10:54] I almost can’t believe he exists

[10:54] did he agree to join us? What’s he like

 

[10:55] haven’t asked yet, Rain wanted to watch him a min here look [video attachment] 

 

[10:57] holy shit 

[10:57] fuck 

[10:57] what are the chances he would be a singer? He’s good, but what’s with the mask?

 

[10:57] idk will try to find out call you later if we get him 

 

He tucked his phone back into his pocket. “Rain, he saw me, I think we have to go talk to him now. What was his name again? You have his documents in the bag still, right?”

 

Rather than reply, he put the bag on the table and slid out a folder, containing a birth certificate and other documents they could use as proof to help convince him that what they offered was real, if needed. He glanced at the birth certificate. “Luca. If he still goes by that.” He took a deep breath, and stood. “You ready, then?” 

 

Suddenly nervous, Dew just nodded, biting his lip. “Let’s do it.”

 

After all of Rain’s fuss about planning what to say,  he realized he forgot to actually plan it only when the singer noticed the two ghouls coming his way. The result was several awkward seconds during which they just looked at each other- the ghouls nervously sauntering up, and the singer staring back, expressionless. The mask covering half his face did no favors towards making him look more approachable. As they took the last few steps up to him, he slung the guitar around so it hung off his back, out of their reach.

 

Mismatched eyes shadowed by the mask shifted between each of the ghoul’s, waiting for them to speak first. Now face to face with him, however, the words were even harder to produce. Now, he was undeniably real. As the standoff drew longer, the man’s lips tightened into a thin line, and he was just about to take a step away to leave when one of his guests broke their silence. 

 

“Uh, hi,” Dew sputtered. 

 

The man looked him up and down. “Hello.” He said softly, unsure.

 

Dews hand came up to scratch the back of his head. Why is this so hard? “So uh, fuck, this is so strange,”

 

The man took a step back slowly. 

 

The ghoul held his hands up in a placating manner. “No I mean, it’s a long story-“

 

“What he means to say is do you have a minute? We need to talk to you and we have an offer for you.” Rain stepped in, which his companion was very thankful for. 

 

The man’s eyes moved over both ghouls again, appraising, and they felt like he could see right through them. “I am working.” He protested, his voice still carrying its soft tone, but causing the ghoul’s shoulders to slump anyway.  He turned away, and was starting to pull his guitar back to playing position when Dew stepped in front of him. 

 

“You wouldn’t have to if you accepted our offer, c'mon man, just hear us out. You know what? Here.” Out of his wallet, he pulled out two hundred dollar bills, and held them out. The man’s eyes widened, but he made no move to take it. After a moment, he began to shake his head. At this, Dew just tossed it into the guitar case. “Okay, then, you’re a pretty good singer, it’s a tip.” 

 

The stranger’s silence stretched on, and he looked increasingly suspicious of the two who had approached him. They saw his adams’ apple bob, and suddenly, with a smooth, quick movement, he had his guitar in the case, on top of the money he’d collected,  and the latches done up. “I’m not interested, I have to go.” He scooped up the case, and with long, quick strides, disappeared around a corner. 

 

“Shit!” The ghouls spat in unison, and booked it after him. 

 

He hadn’t gone far; he had just scooped up a scuffed up black bag, slung it over his shoulder, and crouched beside a black motorcycle with sun damaged paint that was parked against a building. Within another second, whatever he was doing crouched by the bike caused it to roar to life, and he, burdened with his guitar and bag, climbed astride the thing. 

 

“Shit shit shit what the fuck, we will never catch him on foot, shit,” Rain grumbled and looked back and forth for anything he could use to stop him. 

 

Dew however, ran after the bike as he started to pull away, and stabbed a sharp claw into the rear tire, ripping a long slice as the wheel turned. After a second, he withdrew his claw and shook his hand. “Remind me not to do that again.” 

 

Both watched the man try to accelerate, but he did not get far. With the rear tire completely fucked, the bike just fishtailed, throwing sparks as the metal beneath the tire began to scrape along the asphalt until he lost control. As he brought the bike to a skittering to a stop, its rider stumbled along with it, kicking the kickstand out. He dismounted and turned to the back of the bike to see what happened. The huge slash leaving the bike on the metal of the wheel was impossible to miss, and with one glance behind him, he put two and two together. Without warning, he ran up to Dew and tackled him to the ground, pinning his hands above his head and holding him down with a knee in the abdomen.

 

The ghoul had the breath knocked out of him. “Ow! Rain! Help?”

 

 “Why the fuck did you do that man!? What the fuck!” The man demanded in a voice that carried an unmistakable tone of pain, or desperation. 

 

A flash of silver caught Rain’s eye. At some point, this man had pulled a pocketknife from god knows where, and was now holding it near his friend’s neck.  Quietly, Rain approached from behind; Copia’s brother or not, he was not about to let this little mission be the end of his long time friend. 

 

The man shook the ghoul beneath him by the arms. “Are you going to get me a new tire? Are you? Why did you do that?”

 

“Chill out dude! I just gave you two hundred bucks, get off me and buy your damn tire with that.” 

 

He seemed to think for a second, then lowered the knife, but before he could get up, a hand grabbed him by the back of his collar and pulled him up before throwing him backwards into a wall. 

 

With wide eyes, he now looked to Rain, who gave a hand to help his friend up, relaxed, like lifting a grown man off the ground and tossing him like a ragdoll was light work. “What are you?” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought it was a costume but…”

 

“Oh right, I forgot you’d be able to see through it.” 

 

The man leaned to one side, as if he was one wrong move away from trying to flee again. He bit his lip. That answer did not make anything more clear. 

 

One look at Dew told Rain that his friend would not be any help at the moment, as he looked quite put out by being tackled and threatened, so Rain stepped forward while attempting to come off as friendly. Someone had to actually accomplish what they came here for, after all. “So, uh, Luca? Is it?”

 

He flinched, and his eyes narrowed. Had his brow been visible, Rain was certain it would be displaying a deep, concerned furrow. “How do you know my name?” A tinge of fear crept into his voice. 

 

“Your mother told us. It’s a long story, and we will tell you if you’ll hear us out. Why don’t we go sit at the cafe that was just right over there?” 

 

“My m- what?” He shook his head. 

 

Still seething, Dew made no attempt at politeness. “He said he would explain if you go sit down with us, dumbass, can’t you hear?” 

 

“Dew!” 

 

“Don’t get all pissed off at me! He’s the one who fucking tackled me to the ground!” 

 

“You fucked up my bike!” 

 

“How else was I supposed to stop you? And the bike is fine it’s just a tire, which you can just replace easily, I don’t understand why it’s got your panties in such a twist.” 

 

“There’s a lot of things I was hoping to use that money for other than replacing a tire that didn’t need to be replaced!” With the adrenaline of feeling like he was in danger fading away, he was beginning to be left with just a feeling of disappointment. A feeling that he should’ve known better than to think the universe would bless him with enough money to get a few things he had been hoping for. 

 

“Will you hear us out then, Luca?” Rain asked, his voice level, unbothered by the entire situation. 

 

It took several long, silent seconds to get a reply, but feeling like he had nothing to lose at this point, Luca gave a single nod. 

 

 

Chapter 2

Luca looked down at his own legal documents in his hands; Documents that he had never seen before. His parents names, his place and date of birth, vaccine records from when he was a baby, and a yellowed, rough edged photo of two babies wrapped in blankets, each with a white eye and looking like they were crying. He could hardly believe what he was seeing, but the photo is what made their story hard for him to deny. He had never in his life seen another person with an eye like his, so the photo made the story more believable. The paper it was printed on had become fragile with age- it was not something that could’ve been artificially manipulated. The documents these… whatever they were, had presented to him all looked legitimate, too, and he couldn’t think of a reason for them to seek him out if their story wasn’t true. 

 

He felt weak. What these two were offering him sounded too good to be true. He pondered it all, chewing his lip, and paying no mind to those sitting across the table watching him like hawks and waiting for him to say something. They offered him a place where he was apparently meant to be all along, but, they explained that the organization that wanted him was a church, and despite them explaining that it was, simply put, the opposite of a Catholic church, that fact it was one at all made him hesitate.

 

He stacked the papers he held neatly, and set them on the table. With his hands now free, he brought one to his face, and stroked his jaw pensively. He imagined how it would feel to have family, money, and the chance to live the dream of so many, though it wasn’t a career he had ever considered possible for himself: to be a rock star. If it was all true, it would be everything he had ever wanted and more. He would never have to worry about where he would sleep that night, or if he had enough money for dinner. He would be somewhere that he was wanted, something that felt very foreign to him, but a feeling he longed for. And he would have family. 

 

With one last look at the photo, he raised his gaze to the pair of ghouls across from him. “I will go with you.” He conceded, his tone gentle, resigned. He did not smile, or offer a handshake, only his verbal acquiescence. If things went well, he figured, his dreams would all come true. If it went bad, well, he would lose a couple weeks of time, and he would move on. 

 

The ghouls looked at each other, grinning. Over the past twenty minutes, Luca had not said a word. Instead, he just sat there, hands clasped in his lap until they passed him the documents, as his uncannily familiar eyes shifted beneath the mask from one ghoul to the other depending on who was speaking. They couldn’t read him at all, but mission: surprisingly, success. 

 

“Great!” Rain clapped once. “We will let them back at home know to expect you, how long do you need to be ready to go?” 

 

“I’d say I could leave today, but the tire…” 

 

“Oh, I thought we’d-“ fly, he was going to say, since the branch of the church was a couple states away, but it sounded like Luca was not on the same page. “You wanna take your motorcycle then?” 

 

He nodded. 

 

“Alright, we have a car rented, tomorrow morning we can meet up, and you follow us? It’s probably like, I don’t know, a twelve or fourteen hour drive at least.” 

 

Luca made a noncommittal wave of his hand, while Dew was visibly annoyed. 

 

“Can you just drop me off at the airport then? I fucking hate long drives.” The fire ghoul crossed his arms. 

 

“That’s funny coming from a guy who spends months at a time on a tour bus.” Rain countered. 

 

“Yeah but-“ 

 

“It’s the same shit, only we can stop whenever we want. It’s not that bad.” Rain rolled his eyes in an exaggerated, teasing way, before turning back to the future Papa. “So uh, where are you staying? So we can pick somewhere to meet?” 

 

Luca shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “…somewhere with trees, probably.” 

 

“Somewhere with trees?” He asked incredulously. What the fuck does that even mean? Or does he just not want us to know where he’s staying? Rain thought to himself. 

 

The man nodded once. 

 

“Okay, how about we just meet at the courthouse then? It seems central.”

 

“No.” 

 

Rain frowned, then chuckled. “You in trouble with the law or something? A wanted man?” He joked.

 

He just shrugged, and leaned back into the rather uncomfortable iron cafe chair. “I’m not sure.” 

 

Dew just started laughing, but Rain waved his arms in exasperation. Getting information from this man was like pulling teeth. “What do you mean you’re not sure, dude, did you like, commit crimes?” 

 

“Not really.” 

 

“Then why do you think you might be on the police shit list?”

 

“They tried to pull me over once but I ran.” 

 

“Well shit, you probably are wanted, then.” 

 

“They didn’t catch me. And the license plate on my bike isn’t registered to me, so, I don’t know.” 

 

“…did you steal it?” Rain put his hands on his temples. 

 

“No.”

 

Oh for fucks sake, Rain thought. He didn’t even want to bother asking where it came from, then. Based on how this was going, he expected some weird ass non-answer. At least Dew is entertained, he thought, as his companion was laughing his ass off. “Okay, so, not the courthouse. Wasn’t there a gas station next to a Burger King or something near there, how about there? 10AM?”

 

“Okay.” Luca picked up his belongings, including the documents the ghouls brought and left unceremoniously, heading back to his incapacitated bike without any further conversation. 

 

Rain felt that he should say something else, or do something to help guarantee that this wouldn’t be the last time they saw him, but his mind was blank of ideas. He didn’t think either he or his companion were quite over meeting a second Copia, a Copia but weirder, or the fact that the man they had known for so long was truly a twin. And that the twin was going to be the new pope when right now he was… he wasn’t sure what adjective was fitting. 

 

Now that his new nemesis had gone, Dew piped up again, no longer sounding like he was on his last nerve which was hanging on by a thread. “So should we call Maybel? She told me to tell her more when we learned more.” 

 

Rain shrugged. 

 

As the smaller ghoul dialed the number and waited for her to pick up, they saw Luca, guitar on his back and black bag slung across his body, walking beside his motorcycle as he pushed it along the sidewalk, presumably in the direction of a tire shop. He glanced over his shoulder back toward the ghouls, almost as if he wasn’t sure if he imagined them, but quickly turned back to where he was going. There were too many people walking about on the beautiful sunny day to be turned away for long without running into someone.

 

Just then, the phone stopped ringing, and Dew brought it to his ear as they heard Maybel’s greeting on the other end of the line. 

 

“No put it on speaker, I want to hear!” Rain grabbed the phone away, and changed the settings, but scooted his chair closer with a loud, jarring scraping noise so they wouldn’t have to have the phone speaker loud enough to bother anyone else. 

 

“Hey Maybel, I have news.” Dew started. 

 

“Uh oh.” Her voice came through the speaker, amused.

 

“He agreed. I don’t know if that’s good news or bad news though, cause he’s fuckin’… he’s something.”

 

She gave a short laugh. “I’m going to need more details than that, Dew.” 

 

“He said he might be wanted by the cops but he’s not sure. And he barely talks. And he has that mask, which he didn’t mention at all, and!” He emphasized, annoyance clear, now that he was back on the subject, “the motherfucker tackled me to the fuckin ground, pinned me down, and pulled a knife on me.” 

 

“He WHAT? No way, I don’t believe that.”

 

“No, it’s true.” Rain cut in. “But he kinda deserved it.”

 

“Oh, hi Rain! Either of you wanna explain why you managed to get into a knife fight with the future Papa?” Based on the woman’s voice, the ghouls felt if they could see her she might’ve crossed her arms. 

 

“I slashed his tire.” Dew said plainly. 

 

“What the fuck?” 

 

“He was gonna get away, never to be seen again! Did you have a better idea?” 

 

“I wasn’t there, so I don’t know the situation, so I can’t say I did have a better idea.”

 

Dew huffed audibly, making sure she would hear it over the phone. She was, however, familiar with his antics, so it didn’t bother her in the slightest. “He was singing, I gave him a couple hundred bucks, then he said he had to go and we followed him around a corner where he was getting on a motorcycle and as he was pulling away I stuck a claw in the tire and slashed it. Then the bike swerved and he almost fell but he didn’t, he was perfectly fine, mind you, then he stopped it and ran after me and got super pissy about having to replace the tire when he wanted to do something else. I told him to chill the fuck out cause I just gave him money so basically I already bought him a new tire, then Rain pulled him off me and threw him into a wall.” 

 

On her end, Maybel covered her face with her hand. A fine welcome to the ministry they were giving him. “You know, you guys were supposed to make him want to be with us, right? Even after all that, you managed to convince him to join us?”

 

“He didn’t take much convincing, really.” Rain added, leaning toward Dew to be closer to the phone. “We just gave him a brief rundown of where we came from, and told him he has a brother and that we know his family and stuff, he was wanted to be the new frontman of our band and all that, you know, he was just quiet the whole time, and just said, and I quote, ‘I will go with you.’ He didn’t ask any questions or anything at all.” 

 

“Hmm…” Maybel tried to put together more pieces of this man’s story in her head, based of the short video they sent her earlier, and what she was being told now. She wanted to pre-plan some things she would need to go over with him when he got here, to speed up the process and in general just know what to expect. “When is he coming then?”

 

“He said he could leave today if his tire wasn’t fucked, so I asked where he’s staying so we could meetup tomorrow morning, so I guess we should get there with him late tomorrow. He wants to bring his bike, not fly.” 

 

“You idiots! Meet up, as in, you’re not with him now? What if he just disappears into the night? You gotta keep a better eye on him!” 

 

“I asked where he was staying and he just said he’s staying somewhere with trees! There’s trees everywhere, every place has trees, I can’t really know where that is, and obviously he wants to be cool and mysterious or something, so I just let it be. He agreed to meet us, it’s fine.” 

 

Maybel sighed. “Rain, look at him. In the video I could even tell he looks down on his luck. Both of you are right there with him, and based off all this that happened it wasn’t clear to you he doesn't have anywhere he is staying? He said he’s staying by trees or whatever the fuck because he probably means it literally. As in, outside. He was probably so upset about the tire because he wanted to have that money for a hotel or something where he can sleep comfortably and have a shower and shave and that kind of shit. He must’ve got his hopes up for that and then had it taken away.” 

 

Dew made a scolding motion with his finger toward the phone. Without seeing him, Maybel knew exactly what he was doing based on his tone of voice, from her history working with him. “First of all, we’re not ‘right there with him,’ he left, and second of all, why can’t you humans just say things directly, if that was the case?” 

 

“Oh my god you guys, ugh,” she grumbled, frustrated. She was definitely annoyed, but even through the frustration, it was clear she wasn’t truly angry with them. She had worked with all the ghouls in the band daily for years, so this situation wasn’t really surprising. Ghoul’s minds seemed to work a little differently than a human, and they often took things literally, or were more blunt. “Look, I can’t keep my promise I made to Sister if you don’t keep yours and actually bring me her lost son in one piece! Please tell me you know where he went?” 

 

Dew shrugged. “Probably to go get a new tire. Saw him walking the bike a few minutes ago.” 

 

“Okay, you two need to go find him, and for fucks sake, get him a damn room. He is going to be Papa remember? The church would not want to have Papa sleeping on the street. Show him the church can take better care of him, so he will take care of us.” 

 

When the moment of silence started to stretch longer, she added, “now, before he gets to far. Go, bye.” The phone beeped from the speaker as she hung up.

 

Both ghouls sighed. Just when they thought their journey was done. “Alright, let’s go find him, again.” 

 

—————————-

 

The sun was beginning to set, and the wind turned cool and brisk by the time they found him again. As he said he would be, he was in a tree covered area in a park just out of sight from the road near it. When they found him, he was sitting in the sparse, shaded grass while leaning against a tree, with his knees pulled up to his chest. His arms wrapped around his legs, and his chin rested on his knee as he stared into the distance, eyes half shut as if he was drowsy. His bike, with a new rear tire, was propped up beside him with his guitar and bag resting against it. 

 

Rain motioned to Dew to stay back. As the more level headed of the two, he figured it would work better if he did the talking. It was very quiet at the moment, with only the occasional chirp of a bird or whisper of the wing in the many trees, but, even as Rain purposely dragged his feet in the grass to make a sound as a warning of his approach, Luca did not seem to notice him, lost in whatever thoughts he was deep in. “Hey,” Rain said once he was only a couple feet away. 

 

Luca jumped, one hand reaching toward his belt area, but he visibly relaxed and returned to his previous position once he recognized who had approached him. Wordlessly, he just looked up  at the ghoul in the half light expectantly. 

 

Rain scratched the back of his neck. If Maybel was wrong, this question would be a hell of a social faux pas. “Hey, uh, we came looking for you just to be sure uh, to check, is this where you’re staying tonight?”

 

The man’s mouth tightened into a thin line, and he slowly lowered his gaze, and turned his head away. 

 

“Is it because you want to, like, are you a connecting with nature kind of guy or would you rather have a bed?”

 

“ ‘course I’d rather have a bed.” He mumbled miserably, still turned away. 

 

Rain frowned sympathetically, walked around to be in front of him and held out his hand. “Cmon, man.” 

 

Luca looked at the extended hand as if it might bite him, but after a moment of hesitation, he took it, and the ghoul pulled him to his feet. “To where?”

 

“Our hotel, we can just ask for a second room. Bring your shit.” 

 

The man’s eyes widened in the shadows of the mask, and his mouth fell open slightly, but he quickly closed it and scooped up his things. He kicked up the kickstand of his motorcycle and grabbed it by the handlebars, ready to walk it back to the road. When they made it there, Dew was already waiting in the passenger seat of their rental car, so Rain just motioned for Luca to follow, and they waited as he once again crouched beside the bike and fiddled with something they couldn’t see that seemed to cause it’s engine to start. Once he was on the bike, the group was off, although it didn’t take too long to reach their destination. 

 

———————

 

“This is so not fair, his room at least has plants out the window, not a roof with a big ass AC unit.” Dew said as he pushed open the heavy blackout curtains as well as the light sheer ones hung in the room they had just booked for Luca, who was standing in the middle of the lush room, frozen, still holding his stuff. 

 

“I think you just like to complain.” Rain pulled the curtains back shut, since it was night, which would make it easy for anyone to see in. Even there was a low risk of anyone actually being able to see in due to being on the 5th floor, it made him feel exposed.

 

“So what if I do? I have a reputation to uphold.” 

 

Rain laughed, then turned away from his friend. “So, Luca, here’s your room key,”

 

He put down his guitar on the thick patterned carpet next to his feet to free his hand from holding the case’s handle, and took the key, but didn’t lower his hand from its position where he first grasped it.

 

“If you need anything we’re actually just next door, so you can just knock. Oh and if you haven’t eaten, it’s cool if you just order room service and tell them to charge it to the room, it’s on the ministry credit card. I saw they have a menu over on the desk.” Rain, with Dew in tow, started to move toward the door. 

 

“Why?” Luca asked, turning to watch them leaving. 

 

“Why what?” said Dew. 

 

This hotel was nice. Like, marble floors, expensive smelling air freshener, huge seasonal flower and greenery arrangements and a few large crystal chandeliers in the lobby nice.  It was yet another unexpected turn of events today; when he was told they were getting him a room, he expected something more along the lines of a budget motel, which he would’ve been quite happy with, and this far exceeded his expectations. Luca’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Why are you doing this for me?”

 

He shrugged. “You’re with the church now, we take care of our own.” 

 

At this, Luca felt a rare flicker of warmth inside. “Thank you,” he replied earnestly, taking a step towards them. “Thank you so much, I can’t say how appreciated this is.”

 

Rain just flashed him a thumbs up. “10AM tomorrow, in the lobby. Long drive.” The pair slid out the door, and it fell shut with a loud clank, leaving Luca alone in the room. 

 

When he woke up that morning, he would never have guessed a single thing that happened today was about to happen, but for the first time in a while, he felt some hope that the future might be better than the present. The corners of his mouth turned upwards with the hint of a smile, and he let himself look around his home for the night. A huge, king sized bed with a lofty, fluffed white duvet called his name, but he resisted- it wouldn’t do to lie in the nice clean bed in his current state. 

 

He pushed his guitar to the wall with his foot, kicked off his boots, and took his black bag into the spacious bathroom. Flicking on the lights, he put the bag on the counter. From inside the black bag, he retrieved a small, worn, leather toilette bag, which he dumped on the marble. His first pick was a shaving razor. Relieved to rid himself of scraggly stubble that had been plaguing him for the last week and half at least, itching, and making him feel like he looked a mess, he quickly unlatched his mask and set it carefully on the counter beside him with a metallic click. 

 

The man stared into his reflection in the mirror. The mask had been a part of him for so many years now that sometimes, like today, he almost felt as if he was looking at a stranger’s reflection rather than his own. Especially when the bright, harsh bathroom lighting illuminated all the marks of age that seemed to get more and more prominent any time he brought himself to look. It was easy to let himself forget that his countenance was no longer that of a flawless young twenty something year old man, as it was all those years ago, when he last saw himself as he once was. Before the mask became almost a second skin. Back when he didn’t hate his reflection. 

 

 He shook his head in an attempt to throw off his unhappy train of thought. He turned on the tap, cupped his hands beneath it, and splashed his face, rinsing and wetting it, then the razor, then set to work. It would’ve been a more comfortable experience if he had shaving cream, but this was good enough for him, and he was soon clean shaven, with only his usual sideburns left, and they too were cleaned up around the edges. 

 

Once that was done, he stripped himself of his clothing, shoved it in the sink, and did his best to passably wash it since going out to use the guest laundry room naked wasn’t an option. A few minutes later, it was all wrung out, and laid across the long air conditioner unit by the window to dry, and finally, he was back in the bathroom, waiting for the walk in shower to get hot. After testing the temperature, he stepped in, ignoring the sting of the hot water until his body became accustomed to it and the heat steamed up the glass shower enclosure.

 

He put his hair under the water and just stood there, reveling in the feeling of it running down his scalp, through his hair and down his back. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander. For years, his mask had always earned him strange looks. It scared people away. Would the people at this church want him badly enough to overlook it? Could he let himself accept that for once, things were working out for him? Or would his quirk of hiding his face disqualify him from the favor of the organization that sent these “ghouls” as he was told they were called? He rubbed his hands softly over the ridged, discolored skin that marred his face. 

 

He sighed, succumbing to memories. After years of service, the Catholics shunned him, and chased him off in a very unpleasant way that he would rather not recall. Was that just the beginning of the chain of events that led him to where he was now? He wondered. Maybe he should thank them, he thought. Because, well, if the Catholics shunned him and this satanic church was allegedly something like the opposite, then perhaps he would be welcomed with open arms. 

 

Surely, he told himself, if the ghouls, with their tails, claws, fangs, horns and inhuman strength were respected members of society there, a man in a mask couldn’t be that shocking. He supposed he should’ve been more thrown off by learning that their appearance wasn’t a costume, and that they were allegedly literally creatures from hell, but over the years, quite opposite to most, it seemed, who tended to get more set in their ways as they aged from what he could tell, he’d gradually fallen into a “sure, whatever, why the hell not?” Type of mindset. When he was young, this information would have bothered him more. But after years of roaming, he learned what’s meant to be will be, and he was just along for the ride. 

 

When he came back to the present, he found himself sitting on the mosaic tile floor of the shower under the falling water. He didn’t remember sitting down, but he didn’t feel the need to get up just yet. He would just sit here and let the relaxing warmth of the water wash over him a while longer, maybe even washing him free of this part of his life, leaving room for the new adventure that was coming his way. 

 

 

Chapter 3

Summary:

Thank you so much for the reviews and kudos everyone!

When the clock struck 10AM the next day, Luca stepped out of the ornate hotel elevator exactly on the dot with his belongings in tow, and with a quick look around, he spotted the ghouls, looking essentially exactly the same as they had yesterday and lounging on two plush leather arm chairs stylishly situated beside a low coffee table in the lobby. 

 

He blinked and rubbed his eyes. He would’ve been quite happy to stay in bed for a few more hours; while the hotel’s high end finishes certainly didn’t end with the mattress or the beds silky soft linens that formed a cloud like cocoon around him, they were by far what was hardest to pry himself away from that morning. It the best sleep he’d had in a long time by a mile, and yet he still felt he could have used another week at the very least.  But- he was not about to let this opportunity pass him by if there was a chance everything he was offered was true, so he kicked himself out of bed to make it to the lobby at the appointed time. The pair of hellspawn stood eagerly when they saw him, ready to get the long drive out of the way. “Ready?” The taller one asked.

 

Still seeming at least outwardly apathetic, Luca nodded. 

The masked man looked noticeably better and fresher than yesterday, wearing an open, dark charcoal leather jacket with decorative stitching that he hadn’t been wearing yesterday atop the clothes he had when they last saw him, and today he had twisted his long curls into a loose bun. A few strands escaped the rubber band he used to secure it, but for the most part it did its job of taming it and keeping it off his back. At least the future papa cleans up well, Rain thought as he pulled the rental’s keys out of his pocket, and he and Dew each grabbed their own bags and the trio made their way out the door. 

 

As he threw his bag into the car, Rain turned and nodded his head toward Luca who was strapping his black bag to the back of his motorcycle seat and asked, “That’s a cool jacket, where’d you get it?”  

 

The curly headed man was crouched beside the bike, now that his belongings were secured, and continued with his usual strange process to get the thing to start. “From a guy in a ditch.” He replied casually, just a moment before the bike abruptly rumbled to life. Not looking back at the ghoul he swung a leg over it in a practiced move and twisted the handle, revving the engine a bit to warm it for the long trip ahead before letting it idle once again. He waited where he sat, one knee slightly bent with the tilt of the bike as he waiting to kick up the kickstand until they were about to start rolling.

 

Baffled again by the man’s response, Rain’s mouth worked for a second as he tried to guess what that could mean. It was clear from just a glance the jacket wasn’t any old leather biker jacket. It looked like it could’ve been acquired from a master leather artisan using only the finest materials in a Milan design house. How on earth this man could have possibly procured such a nice jacket from someone in a ditch was beyond him. “There was a guy selling fine leather goods in a ditch?” He shouted over the noise of the bike’s engine. 

 

“No.” He said plainly.

 

Rain saw rather than heard the reply over the rumbling engine. He did not bother to ask for further clarification over the noise of the bike, despite not having any more understanding than he did a moment ago. Instead he gave a slight shake of head then waved a ‘follow me’ motion, hopping in the sedan where the other ghoul was waiting, and they were off. 

 

————-

 

Bored out of his mind and two hours or so into staring at the mountainous landscape changing into a flat one, Dew got a text from Maybel. He was glad for the distraction when he heard the notification ding, though, this part of the interstate seemed like an endless stretch of absolutely nothing but small brush and the occasional blown out tire on the side of the road. Time was passing slowly. 

 

[12:07PM] are you on the way?

 

[12:07PM] yep 

 

[12:07PM] him too?

 

Dew rolled his eyes. 

 

[12:08PM] no we just left him 🙄 

 

He opened the phone camera and pointed it out the window, where Luca was keeping pace in the other lane. His gaze was straight ahead, and he leaned forward a little, compensating for the speed they were traveling and the guitar strapped to his back that was keeping his jacket and shirt from whipping around much or slipping up his back in the wind. Dew snapped a photo. 

 

[12:08PM] see look he’s right there so calm your tits sis

 

Maybel just sent a thumbs up, and to his disappointment, it seemed like the conversation was over. 

 

——————-

 

Maybel wedged her phone back in a secure crevice of the rolling library cart that was already piled with old satanic heirloom-esque books, and she set back to work collecting material from the ministry library’s vast collection of tomes. As much she would like to joke around with Dew a bit longer as she wheeled the squeaky cart along the old parchment scented aisles, she knew she really ought to finish up her preparations. 

 

It was an honor to be asked by Sister Imperator to help prepare the next Papa for his upcoming role- especially since this one in particular was an anomaly and had no prior experience. It was a heavy pressure on her shoulders, but she had no intentions of letting her down by giving anything but her best. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder why she was selected over the several cardinals, or even Frater Imperator himself, who she would’ve thought immediately were more far more qualified to set the stranger up for success and could’ve been tasked with the job. 

 

She was so surprised by the request that she asked Sister about her reasoning, even, the day she was given this important task. Her mind wandered to that day not so long ago as she walked down yet another aisle of floor to ceiling books on her way to collect one more that she felt the new Papa should read. 

 

She was alone in Sister’s personal quarters- were an odd combination of a time machine back to the 70s and modern amenities, where the older woman had been spending more and more time as her illness slowly weakened her. Despite the weakness, she still ruled the clergy with a mind that remained perfectly clear and as sharp as a whip. Maybel sat on a rattan chair pulled up near where Sister was sitting as the woman firmly defended her reasoning to her. 

 

“The cardinals we have now have no experience with any of the machinations of touring.” Sister had explained. “The new Papa needs to know and understand that aspect of his role right away. The way things have turned out, although it isn’t quite how I had once hoped, he will be essentially thrown into it. Fronting the tour is much more public than the finer details of how the clergy is run, so it’s essential that he is competent and able to, you know, handle the little things that come up. Little things like troubleshoot problems with the in-ears on the spot, knowing where to go and when, that kind of thing. Not only that but things that would cause malfunctions or dangerous situations on stage.” 

 

Maybel crossed a knee over the other beneath her habit and hummed in understanding. 

 

With her signature purse of her lips and slight tilt to her head Imperator continued, “You see, it just wouldn’t do to have our new Papa burnt to a crisp because he hasn’t been shown where the pyro will be now would it? I know you can help with that. You have been a huge asset to the tour all the years you’ve been working it, plus you are a bishop, after all, and that didn’t happen by accident. I am certain that if you had pursued it, you’d have been a cardinal by now, so you’ll be able to help with any questions he may have about the leader of the clergy part.” She finished with a small smile. 

 

Maybel was flattered by the praise, and averted her eyes to her lap for a moment but still had to ask, “I don’t mean this as an argument, I’m just thinking of what’s best for the future of our church- just, what about Copia? Since he has done it, he’s done everything, I would have expected him to be the first choice of a mentor.” 

 

Sister’s customary lipstick red lips curved into a fond smile at the mention of her son. “I thought about it, too, but I know my son. Cardi is going to be very busy learning a new role of his own, and won’t have the time. I would hope he will make himself available here and there to answer questions, give advice, or just be a support, but… I know this will be a lot for him. I am not sure how he’s going to take it. It’s going to be such a major change for him to transition into his new role as Frater Imperator and into being a brother to someone he doesn’t know about yet. It pains me, that it has turned out this way, but I made the best choices with what knowledge I had at the time.” She sighed, a distant sadness entering her eyes. “So much so that I can’t bring myself to tell him I’ve been keeping this secret, it would kill me if he reacts badly or is hurt by it because that is something I never meant to do. So I am taking the coward's way out and have asked that Marika tells him once I am gone.”

 

Maybel nodded. She knew bits of pieces of this woman’s past, but she knew there was much more to the story that she nor anyone else knew. She trusted that Sister did her best- she always had. “So what is Copia’s brother like?” 

 

Sisters' earlier smile was gone now, morphed into a deep frown as she stared towards the window, her mind clearly recalling a long past memory. She swallowed before turning back to Maybel. “I hate to say it, but I have no idea. I haven’t seen him since he was a baby. All I know about him is that he is alive, somewhere. I hope he has been living a good life. After I lost track of him, for years, I feared the worst, but as soon as I knew I was ill I hired a private eye who thankfully confirmed that he is in fact still living, but was never able to actually find him.” Her voice began to return to her usual authoritative tone as she finished her explanation. “That’s where the ghouls come in. Their job is to find him, and get him here, your job is to take whatever he is and make him into a competent Papa that can fill Copia’s shoes and be someone all of the siblings and clergy can count on.”

 

“I will try my damndest, Sister, I promise.” Maybel vowed, placing a hand over her heart. 

 

Bringing her mind back to the present, she could hardly believe the moment was nearly here. The ghouls were due back late that night, with the mysterious man that she was charged with teaching, and she felt a rush of anticipation. This was certainly going to be interesting, and she was excited to meet him and get the ball rolling on another tour. 

 

——————

 

Dew shifted his entire body in the seat as he turned to Rain in the cramped sedan. Or rather, the decently spacious sedan that only felt cramped because he’d been in it for hours already. He tried to just watch the landscape for a while, after his too short conversation with Maybel, but there was literally nothing to look at. He decided to find a new way to entertain himself. “So can we tell the other ghouls that there are two Copias now? 

 

“I don’t know, I think we have to wait until Copia knows. Cause if all of the ghouls know, word is gonna reach Copia pretty quick, eh?” 

 

He replied, keeping his eyes on the road, despite it being pretty empty and rarely curving. “Does he know yet?”

 

“I don’t know, dude, I’ve been with you for weeks. Ask Marika or something.” 

 

“I don’t have her number. Won’t they find out really soon anyway? Someone will see Luca’s eyes. And just see him in general and someone would have to be really fucking stupid not to figure it out immediately.” 

 

Rain shrugged. “Yeah, but I think we still have to wait. I think Copia needs to hear it from Marika or Psalty, he deserves that. I really don’t know how he’s going to feel about it, though.” 

 

“If that guy was my brother, I wouldn’t be very happy about it.” Dew looked out the window again but only saw a flat, arid landscape, and already began to halfway zone out again before it clicked in his head. Something was missing. Something very important to their mission was missing.  The future anti pope, front man of the band, and figurehead of the church was missing. He sat bolt upright, then turned around, checking behind their car. Sure enough, he was still there, but now a few meters behind them rather than riding in the other lane beside the car. After sighing and shaking off the miniature heart attack he’d nearly had, Dew slumped back into his seat. 

 

“You’re still mad about getting tackled aren’t you? Did that hurt your poor little ego?” Rain teased, briefly turning to smirk at his friend.

 

“Yeah, I am still mad, thank you for asking. And you would be too if it happened to you. And! he’s almost impossible to talk to, I think the most words he has said this entire time was when he was threatening me. So basically, a total of like, two sentences in two days.” He punched the driver in the arm, then pointed to to the man they were discussing. “Look at that motherfucker, the thinks he just the baddest bitch on the road with his stupid fucking leather ditch jacket and his ugly ass motorcycle.” 

 

As if he could hear their conversation, the man in question suddenly zipped by the car, definitely exceeding the speed limit, while he stood with one leg on a peg and had his other knee resting on the motorcycle’s seat. How he was balancing like that, neither of them could guess, but the man’s body held the relaxed confidence of someone who had done this a million times. He seemed to let go of the throttle a second after he passed the car, and was letting it coast back down to normal speed, but not without switching standing legs in the least safe manner the ghouls could imagine. 

 

“See?” Dew knocked his knuckles on the window. “Cocky son of a bitch.”

 

Rain groaned as he wiped the mildly horrified look from the man’s antics from his face, but his tone was lighthearted as he responded to his friend. “So you’re calling Sister Imperator a bitch? I might tell her that, and see what happens. It would be a good show.” 

 

“Well, good luck with that, since she’s dead. And, he’s also Nihil’s son, so maybe he’s the bitch.” 

 

Rain snorted in amusement. “Yeah, you’re sure backtracking now. All bark and no bite.” 

 

“Shut up.” Dew crossed his arms and looked out the window again.

 

“Let’s just hope he doesn’t do that again, I don’t want to have to explain to Maybel and Marika that we won’t be able to bring him to the ministry after all cause he fucking died on our watch.” 

 

The fire ghoul turned back to the driver. “How many hours left til we get there again?” 

 

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Uh, seven? No, eight. Sorry, no, seven and a half.” 

 

“Damn it.” Dew leaned on the door of the car, resting his elbow on it, and letting his chin sit on his hand as he looked back out the window. “Oh hey, I think I’ve seen here before, those big rock formations, they’ve definitely been on those shitty 2 am shows we watch on the bus- what’s this place called?” He almost sounded excited, now that there was something new to talk about. Rain shrugged, and so Dew took out his phone again to check the gps. “Monument Valley, it says.” 

 

Dew mirrored the driver's shrug and turned his attention back out of the window, genuinely appreciating the landscape- perhaps if he took enough hallucinogenics, he could convince himself he was on a visit to hell- at least, until something else caught his eye. 

 

“Hey Rain?” 

 

“What?”

 

“He’s doing it again.” 

 

Rain looked in the rear view mirror, but the road was empty behind them. Then he looked in the right lane, beside them, but saw nobody there, either. Just then, the roar of the motorcycle engine, firing on all cylinders, flew by them on the side of oncoming traffic. Fortunately, the road was deserted, so he was not in danger of a collision, but the wrong way driving and the speed nearly gave Rain a heart attack. 

 

Both sets of ghoulish eyes were glued to the man on the motorcycle that was gradually returning to a more reasonable rate of speed, until briefly eyeing each other and coming to a wordless agreement that this would definitely be reported back to Maybel. Once again Dew picked up his phone to start typing out a text when they thought that Luca was done driving recklessly, for now at least, but the slowed down and aligned himself with the passenger window. Both Dew and Rain watched nervously as he sidled up dangerously close to the car, and knocked on the passenger window as if they weren’t traveling 75 miles per hour. 

 

Dew motioned with his hands, since there would be no way he could hear the man even if he opened the window, over the sound of the wind and the motorcycle. “What do you want?” He mouthed. 

 

Luca raised one hand as if he was about to make an explanatory gesture and smiled, A broad, full smile fueled by the adrenaline high of the fucking around he was doing. It was the first smile that he had worn since meeting the pair escorting him, but that smile looked vaguely wrong, even to a ghoul. He looked like he never learned to properly smile, and was only copying commercials and ads with the people showing artificially big grins that looked a little too happy for the diarrhea medicine or whatever junk they were advertising. It was borderline unsettling, especially considering the man who was showing just a little too much teeth was also decidedly not looking in his direction of travel. 

 

 While Rain looked panicked, and had a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel to make sure he didn’t make any unexpected movements that would knock Luca off the road, Dew made no attempt to hide the opinion of that smile that showed on his face through the window. The man outside noticed, and looked away, putting a little bit of distance between the bike and the car, much to Rain’s relief. 

 

“Fuckin, Bon Jovi, Dead or Alive looking ass.” Dew muttered, after a minute, watching Luca out the window again, and taking in the landscape, and the motorcycle rider, with a guitar on his back. “Hmpf.” 

 

Once again, he took out his phone, glad to see that he did have some signal even in this remote area. 

 

[3:34PM] hey maybel can you add traffic laws to your curriculum 

 

[3:40PM] ? 

 

[3:40PM] wanted dead or alive looking ass just came up and knocked on the car window

 

[3:40PM] and earlier he was driving in the wrong way lane 

 

[3:41PM] well if his mother was still around I’d tell her to kick his ass 

 

[3:42PM] Might want to find a medium because look at this shit rain is shitting himself  [video attachment] 

 

Maybel set down her pen, and played the video, and it immediately gave her anxiety. The man was riding centered on the yellow line of the road, but standing, and pulling a wheelie. Then, the view panned as he put the front wheel down but stayed standing on the pegs, moved across the lane to the shoulder, then back to the center, then the shoulder, all in a very quick, yet casual manner. Isn't this man supposed to be just as old as Copia? she considered, then chuckled as she thought of the dichotomy of the two brothers- one who could barely ride a tricycle without crashing it vs… this. She couldn’t say she knew much about motorcycles, or how to ride them, but she was pretty sure this was not textbook driving. 

 

However, she also could not deny that despite wracking up traffic violations and pulling moves that would give his mother a heart attack had she not already been dead, he still looked like a badass, especially with the towering red icons of Monument Valley's deserted, rusty landscape surrounding him. This she could work with, she figured. He already seemed a polar opposite of his brother, and she decided then that looked forward to meeting him even more now. He was definitely already shaping up to be an interesting character. 

 

[3:43PM] good thing I know a few mediums. How much longer do you think you’ll be now? 

 

Dew did not have a chance to answer. He couldn’t pull his eyes off of Luca’s receding back. As he was chatting with Maybel, the man on the motorcycle must’ve really fired up the throttle, because he was getting farther and farther ahead of the car. Rain laid his foot on the gas, doing close to one hundred, now, but the bike was still speeding away ahead of them. “What the hell is he doing?!” Dew said, and sat up on the edge of his seat to get a better look out the windshield while Rain tried and failed to safely catch up. But then, their hearts dropped. 

 

“Oh fuck, shit. Fuck!” Rain cursed. Dew’s jaw dropped, and for once, he had no sarcastic comments to make. Up ahead, they saw Luca swerve just a little, as if to avoid something, but at the speed he was going it must have been too much for the bike to remain upright. In the blink of an eye, he and his bike were in prolonged skids down the highway in separate directions. The ghouls felt like they were watching in slow motion, with their hearts in their throats, as there was nothing they could do to stop it.

 

The bike ended up sliding off the road fairly quickly and into the sandy dirt, throwing a huge, thick cloud of dust into the air. Its wheels remained spinning in an eerie way even as they caught up to it and passed it.

 

Luca, on the other hand, remained on the asphalt, skidding alarmingly fast while curled on his side for a little ways, before being rolled by the force of everything onto his back. The motion of it snapped the guitar case’s strap and sent the guitar and its rickety case splintering into shreds. His momentum continued a while longer before he eventually came to a stop at least a couple hundred feet from where he fell, and his body, which had been curled around itself protectively, went limp and flat on his back on the ground. Dew swore he saw sparks coming from somewhere around the man even through the dust cloud for a second at some point during that mess, but it happened so quickly that he wasn’t sure if he’d just been seeing things. 

 

“God damnit you idiot!” Rain slapped his hand on the top of the steering wheel, his distress heavy in his cracking voice as he rushed to get them to where Luca landed. Meanwhile, Dew remained staring at the man’s unmoving form with his mouth hanging open. Neither of them could breathe in fear they’d just watched the man die right in front of their eyes.

 

There was still no movement from the dark shape now laying on the asphalt as they continued to approach, and cold dread sank in. They were almost certain that he was a goner, the new direction for the church over just as quickly as it began, lifeless in the middle of miles and miles of empty road. 

 

Matching gasps of relief then fell from their mouths moments later, just as Rain was getting the car stopped near the man. Luca rolled onto his hands and knees and stilled, chest visibly heaving for several seconds, then miraculously, stiffly stood up. The ghouls ran up to him, not bothering to close the doors of the sedan. Luca turned to them, touching his mask slowly with one hand. When he pulled his hand away, Dew noticed a broad scuff where he had touched it- the metal scraping the road must have been the cause of the sparks. Luckily, it seemed like the thin metal protected him from leaving half the flesh of his face as a streak painted across the desert highway. Not only that, but there was pebbles and dirt from the road now lodged throughout the tied back mess of black curls on the man’s head, showing just how small the margin of error was between what appeared to be only mild injuries versus severe damage to his head and scalp. 

 

There was no denying the man now was in  rougher shape than before, and curiously, while the side of his jeans he was skidding on while he was on his side was torn in a few places, blackened, and worn thin in others- essentially turned to dusty denim shreds,  somehow, the leather jacket he wore looked exactly as it had before they left- dusty of course, but without even the smallest scratch or scuff anywhere. The jacket, and the portion of the man in it remained unscathed. But, Rain and Dew were too preoccupied and relieved to find he was apparently okay to notice. 

 

“What the hell is wrong with you, Luca!?” Rain waved his hands frantically towards the shockingly living and walking man as he shouted with a hint of hysteria coming through his voice. “I thought you were dead! And I’d have to call the church and say sorry, the new guy won’t be making it, because he is spread all over the highway in the middle of nowhere!” 

 

Luca did not respond for several seconds, in somewhat of a haze. If he was honest, he was just as shocked as the creatures accompanying him that he'd managed to land the wreck in the way that he did, and was trying to fight off his mind replaying what happened in his head. Unable to concentrate enough to have really registered what the ghoul said at first, he stuck his leg out to one side, and bent to inspect the damage. Through the holes in the fabric, he could see a few road burned areas of skin, bleeding slightly, and stinging like hell, but it was bearable. If they weren’t in the middle of nowhere, he would have liked to clean it off to stave off infection, but that would have to wait until later. He definitely felt sore and stiff, but not too bad at all, considering. He remained quiet for another few seconds and idly picked out a road pebble from his skin with a wince. 

  

He then remembered that the ghoul was probably expecting an answer. “I was just having fun, I’ve done it all the time.” He replied, his tone slightly apologetic, and surprisingly calm as he straightened. He didn’t expect them to be as alarmed as they seemed to be, and felt a bit of guilt seeping in as he worked on straightening his twisted jacket sleeves back around to their usual place.

 

“Yeah, well, did you have fun sliding hundreds of feet on fucking asphalt?” Rain snapped, drawing a line with his pointer finger along the road where Luca had been.

 

“Could’ve been worse.” He replied nonchalantly, with the only indication that he was in any way affected by the event being the adrenaline induced tremble in his hands and quick rising and falling of his ribcage. 

 

By then Dew finally broke out of his stupor, “could’ve been worse, no shit? You should be dead after a wreck like that,” 

 

Luca shrugged blankly, mind suddenly preoccupied with something else. He looked past the ghouls, and his head swiveled as he looked for his bike. 

 

“How are you so unbothered? You could’ve just died! Don’t you get it?” Dew put his hands on his hips, frustrated at the way the man just seemed to not care. 

 

“I didn’t die.” He met Dew’s eyes with a blank expression, then started to brush off more pebbles and dust from his jeans. He didn’t seem to notice what was stuck in his hair. “But, if it was my time, it was my time. It’s not a big deal.” 

 

“Not a big deal!?” He threw his hands up, ready to keep going off at him, but Luca just walked around him, mumbling. 

 

“I’m just a wanderer, it wouldn’t really matter. Nobody would miss me, anyway.” He said as easily as one would say the sky is blue.

 

The ghouls followed a couple steps behind him as he trudged his way to his bike. As he got closer, he saw that it was definitely not in usable condition, scuffed and scratched to all hell, but that wasn’t his primary concern. The paint had never been in great condition, anyway. There was damage to several vital parts of the bike, and some pieces had flown off and scattered in the dirt. Repairable, he thought, but out of commission. With a frown, he started looking around again, but after a second, his shoulders sank. He noticed the splintered wood strewn about the area, and when he didn’t see his guitar anywhere, he realized that the splinters were all that was left of the instrument, and dreadfully all that was left of his primary source of income. 

 

Seeing his realization that he would not be riding the motorcycle the rest of the way, Rain took the opportunity to make the only logical suggestion. With the knowledge that Luca was not critically injured finally processing, Rain was beginning to calm down. He took a deep breath and huffed before following a few steps closer to the man. 

“Look, why don’t you just ride in the car with us then? You’re injured and that bike is fucked. You said it wasn’t registered to you so I don’t know, just fuckin’ leave it there.”

 

Luca shook his head, and looked toward the damaged bike again with a frown. He and that bike had traveled many miles, giving it a strong sentimental value. “I will put it back together.” He protested. To back up his words, he started to comb the area for scattered pieces. Wincing as the road burned parts of his leg smarted, he crouched and started collecting any parts he thought he might be able to use. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fix it here on the side of the road, but he definitely didn’t want to abandon his beloved motorcycle. 

 

Rain sighed. Sitting here for possibly hours was the last thing he wanted to do, but he thought of what Maybel said yesterday: take care of him so he will take care of the church. He could already hear Dew complaining, too, but he would survive. With long-suffering resignation, he said, “Alright, fine, I will call a tow truck. We will tow it to the next closest city then turn in this car and rent a pickup truck to take the bike home." 

 

Dew frowned and clenched his teeth upon hearing Rain’s declaration, and turned to Luca. “You gonna put your guitar back together too?” He bit sarcastically, then plopped himself on the ground a few feet away from the road to wait for who knows how long for the tow truck to arrive. “I’m not helping you pick that shit up if you want it so bad you can do it by yourself.” 

 

Luca just side eyed him, then unhooked his black bag from the seat of the bike and sat down near the ghoul with another wince and a hiss. 

 

A minute later, Rain moved the car off the road and joined them, informing the other two that the tow company said they would be there within a couple of hours. The three of them sat miserably on the ground in silence for quite a while, with Dew silently seething, Rain struggling to keep his cool both literally and figuratively in the afternoon sun, and Luca mourning the loss of his guitar and the damage to his bike. The longer they sat there, baking in the sun with small pebbles digging into their asses, the more he mentally beat himself up over the wreck. The irritation rolling off the ghouls was palpable, and it only made him feel worse; He hated it anytime someone was upset with him, or he let them down, even though he never did it on purpose. 

 

————————

 

It was a few hours before the group was back on the road again, and another two hours of the radio being the only sound in the rental pickup before anyone spoke. They had been traveling for long enough now that each of them was just zoned out or lost in their own thoughts. Although neither of them said it out loud, the ghouls were both thinking the same thing: they weren’t so sure that the man sitting silently in the seat behind them was a good choice to lead their church. 

 

Nighttime had fallen, and they were still on the long, empty highway with only a few other drivers here and there. The ghouls in the front seats were almost startled when Luca asked quietly while looking out the window at the sky, “excuse me, does this window open?” He turned around and tapped a middle segment of the window behind the back seats he was sitting in. 

 

“Uh, I think so.” Rain replied, and started looking around for a button that might open it. 

 

“Will you open it please?” 

 

A few seconds later the window slid open when he found the button. “Why?”

 

They heard Luca’s seatbelt unlatch and there was a commotion behind them. Dew turned around, and Rain watched in the rear view as the man started to slither his way through the window. 

 

“What the hell are you doing now!?” Dew snapped. “You can’t- we’re going fast! 

 

Once he was about waist level through the window, he bent his head to face back in, and said flatly, “I just want to look at the stars.” 

 

They heard a thump as he dropped into the bed of the truck, avoiding the bike taking up half the space. Rain sighed heavily. “I can’t wait until we get home. I cannot deal with this shit right now. Could he not just look at the stars out the window?” He turned up the radio volume so it could be heard over the wind noise of the open window.

 

The truck wobbled slightly as the man in the bed seemed to adjust himself, eventually settling to lie on his back along the short side of the bed just behind the cab, and leaned a little against the side wall. When Dew glanced back there, it didn’t look like it was very comfortable, but Luca seemed perfectly happy. He bent his legs at the knee, and crossed one over the other, bobbing his foot. 

 

A notification ding prompted Dew to shift his attention to his phone and not the unusual man in the truck bed. Only when he saw a message from Maybel appear on the screen did he realize he never replied to her last question. 

 

[10:02PM] ETA? I’ve been staying up to wait to greet you guys

 

[10:02PM] like two hours probably, Luca crashed his bike forgot to tell you 

 

[10:02PM] what???? Is he okay?

 

[10:03PM] yeah he just slid a long way on the pavement but he just climbed through the window so he must not be in that much pain 

 

[10:03PM] what???????

 

Although he was not fond of Luca at all, he did think telling Maybel about him was very fun. 

 

[10:04PM] he got in the truck bed with his fucked up bike through the window just now I can’t wait for him to be your problem not mine ✌️

 

[10:05PM] you’re not making any sense just tell me when you’re close so I can go meet you 

 

“Maybel is waiting up for us,” he informed Rain. 

 

“She’s dedicated, that’s for sure.” 

 

After a nod of agreement they fell into a comfortable silence, but it didn’t last. Maybe a mile further down the road the pair eyed each other before turning back to confirm what they thought they were hearing over the wind from behind him. 

 

They quieted, and listened. Along with the voice of Freddie Mercury on the radio, they could hear Luca, singing along word for word, following each and every note of The Show Must Go On, and he was doing it perfectly. He seemed to be lost in his own world, performing passionately to an audience of stars above him. He was gesturing along with each line with his arm and hand held above him as he remained reclined on the truck bed. 

 

It was impressive, really, that he could sing in that position at all, much less nail every note of this song so casually. The ghouls just stayed quiet and listened, entranced. 

 

Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance

Another heartache, another failed romance

On and on

Does anybody know what we are living for?

I guess I'm learning, I must be warmer now

I'll soon be turning, 'round the corner now

Outside the dawn is breaking

But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free

 

“Copia is going to be so mad.” Dew finally said, as Luca just continued to sing along. 

 

“Why?” Rain asked, trying to hear as best he could and keep an eye on the road. 

 

“Because this guy definitely is a better singer than he is, and he’s not even trying. He’s slumped in the back of a truck bed with no warm up and singing like that.” 

 

“Oh yeah, he really is, I think. You’re probably right. Copia is not gonna like being shown up by the newbie. But we haven’t seen him like, on a stage before, maybe he has absolutely zero stage presence.” 

 

“Yeah, I don’t see him being very good at connecting with the audience, if he says anything it’ll probably just be something confusing. My money's on him just standing there and smiling in that freaky ass way.”

 

My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies

Fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die

I can fly, my friends

 

“God damn,” Rain muttered, impressed. “He may be strange but at least he has the singing gene his family seems to have, although it seems like he inherited an extra helping of it.” 

 

The show must go on, yeah

The show must go on

I'll face it with a grin

I'm never givin' in

On with the show

 

As the song finished, Luca seemed to still again, and fell quiet, for a while, but only until another song he knew came on the radio. He kept up singing along, in his own world, for much of the rest of the way back to the ministry, and for once, the ghouls were not irritated by his actions.

 

 

 

Notes:

So you’ll never guess what song I was hoping for for the queen thing huh?

Next chapter the trio finally makes it home, and Maybel finally get to meet the mystery man 👀

Chapter 4

Summary:

Thanks again for the reviews and kudos! I love to get those notifications it makes my day 💕

Maybel stood near the church doors, looking out into parking area, tapping her fingers together as she anxiously awaited the trio that was due to pull in any minute now. At around one in the morning, the night cast a thick veil of darkness over the area, but a security floodlight just outside the door she stood beside gave enough light to attract moths and to see well enough to make things out as the truck with its two wheeled cargo pulled up in front of her and shut off its headlights. The first one out was Dew, and he just smirked mischievously as he hopped out of the front passenger seat. He grabbed his belongings and approached quickly, ready to be back home. “Hey Mayb, special delivery! One confusing, talented singer adrenaline junkie with a death wish. Good luck!” He patted her shoulder as he passed, then disappeared into the church. 

 

She just grinned, amused, but her attention was more on actually locating the ‘special delivery,’ who was nowhere to be seen. Rain came around the back of the vehicle and opened the tailgate. He squinted in the dark. The small, dim light above the trucks rear window wasn’t much to see by, and the walls of the bed blocked much of the light from the church’s floodlight.  He looked concerned for a moment, but his expression relaxed very shortly. “Luca, wake up!” he barked into the truck bed, loudly, but not angrily, as he grabbed the nearest part of the bike that he could reach, slid it out of the truck, and set it on the ground as easily as if it was a case of waters. 

 

Luca startled awake with a surprised gasp, and pushed himself up into a sitting position. The soreness from his earlier wreck had set in for real, now, after he apparently fell asleep and laid still for a while on the last part of their ride. He looked around the dark parking lot, disoriented. When his gaze landed briefly on Maybel, standing  a couple meters away on the sidewalk just beside the entry doors, she couldn’t help but gasp at the uncanny resemblance, despite the mask, to his brother that they all knew so well. However, her first glimpse of the future Papa gave a decidedly more intimidating impression than Copia did when she first met him; The mask shone in the cool blue toned security floodlight, which also cast harsh shadows over his eyes that could barely be seen, and highlighted the sharp angles of his face. It gave the impression of a skull attached to a living man’s shoulders, and Maybel resisted a shiver. This is it then, this is happening, she thought, as the man she’d been so surprised to learn existed was now right in front of her and very real. She kept watching and waiting. 

 

“We’re here.” Rain explained to the man in the truck bed, who’s head still swiveled as he gained his bearings. The water ghoul turned his attention to Maybel, waving to her while the masked man climbed out of the truck bed. “I’m gonna park this thing and then go to bed, can you deal with him for now? Like you know where he’s supposed to go and stuff?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, go rest, long drive.” She nodded. She’s been preparing for this newcomers arrival for some time now, everything was ready, and she herself was ready to finally receive him. 

 

Eager to be done with this long mission and what felt like an even longer drive, the ghoul went back around the vehicle, hopped in the truck now that Luca was out, and moved it to an empty space at the end of a row. The vehicle’s lights flashed as he locked the doors with the key fob, and Rain called out, “good night!” As he power walked into the church through the big carved wooden doors beside Maybel with his own bed and a good rest on his mind.

 

Luca, on the other hand, hadn’t moved from where he stood near his damaged bike where Rain had set it down. He felt very out of place, now. He didn’t think that they had done so out of malice, but in their eagerness to be done, neither ghoul had remembered to give him any further instructions now that they had finally reached their destination. Still, being left stranded somewhere alone, malicious intent or not, when they offered him a place to stay and family that he hoped would care about him, didn’t exactly feel good. He had to wonder if spending the night in the parking lot was some sort of payback for his stupid wreck causing a delay. It wasn’t as if a strange masked man appearing uninvited inside the church in the middle of the night was likely to be received well, so he wasn’t sure if he should bother knocking.

 

With a weary, heavy sigh that filled his lungs with air that had the faintest hint of ocean salt and humidity, he pushed his fingers through his hair from his forehead to his mask strap. After a moment of thinking, he wheeled the bike into an empty parking spot, then stared at the truck they’d been riding in for several seconds with his hands on his hips. It was locked, now, and the driver had disappeared into the building, which posed a problem for Luca.  

 

Maybel remained quiet, watching the man as she waited for him to actually approach her so she could greet him properly. She could see a frown form on his face even in the dark as he looked toward the vehicle, then a jingle could be heard as he unclipped a ring of various small implements from a belt loop and started walking towards the truck. His footsteps, however, were silent.

 

Maybel’s head tilted to one side curiously. Her eyes were glued to him as he went to the front of the truck, and somehow, silently, was able to pop open the hood with something he took out of his pocket. He leaned over the engine, and she saw him reaching, but couldn’t tell for what. A second later, he closed the hood, this time with an audible clank as it latched, and crept over to the driver door. Now, she could clearly see him make short work of picking the lock. She raised her eyebrows. An interesting character indeed.

 

Luca opened the driver door then, and nimbly climbed in the seat, then kneeled on it to reach over the console into the back seat. It was only then that Maybel noticed none of the lights came in the car at all as they should have when he opened the door, and the alarm did not go off when he closed the hood nor when he managed to get the door opened. Putting two and two together, she decided that the man must have somehow disabled the car’s security alarm, and with it, all the other electric components. Soon, he slid back out of the truck with a bag in hand, closed the door, and started walking back towards the front doors of the church with the intention of finding some sort of more private area to spend the night and wait until he could find the ghouls again. 

 

Once he was closer, and a little easier to see, Maybel spoke. “Did you just pick the lock?” 

 

His head snapped to her, as if he forgot she was there even though he definitely saw her standing there when they arrived. He took a few steps closer, stopping at a conversational distance, but he did not speak, he only looked. She returned the favor, and wordlessly looked him over thoroughly now that he was more well lit in the floodlight taking in his appearance. Now that he was right in front of her, she could see he was thinner than Copia, and maybe the tiniest bit taller. She could tell immediately his demeanor was totally different than his brother’s, too- Copia, while when she first met him years ago was a bit unsure of himself, he was always a talker, and sometimes made over the top efforts to be friendly. Now, of course, Copia had grown into himself, but even though she knew he’d always been smart and way more perceptive than he was given credit for, he sometimes came off as a lovable but bumbling idiot.

 

This man, however, had an air of mystery around him, perhaps even one of danger. Without knowing him personally yet, she wasn’t quite sure if her initial darker perception of him was simply due to meeting him alone in the middle of the night, with half of his expressions covered with the shining mask, but he definitely seemed more guarded or standoffish than his brother. He wasn’t out to make friends. His gaze was intense and cold, like someone who did not lay their trust in others easily, someone who would not reveal any more of themselves than they wanted to, and they precisely calculated exactly how much to let anyone know. She swallowed as she noticed his familiar yet strange gaze scanning her face, for several seconds, then his eyes narrowed slightly. 

 

“Are you a cop?” He asked in a voice with no edge to it at all, which did not  match his appearance at all. A mountain lion with the voice of a tabby cat. She’d heard his singing voice, of course, in that first video Dew sent her, but for some reason she expected his speaking voice to sound more sinister. 

 

“Not at all,” she laughed. “Bishop Maybel Madison, it’s nice to meet you.” She held out her hand to shake.

 

Luca’s eyes grew a sliver wider as he leaned back almost imperceptibly but Maybel didn’t miss the motion. A woman bishop? He thought, shocked. Yet, she spoke the truth. A woman bishop, wearing an oversized Black Sabbath t-shirt and yoga pants and a messy bun of mousy hair situated directly on the top of her head. During his time as a man of the cloth, if he was caught dressed so casually while anywhere on the premises besides his bedroom, he would be skinned alive. But, he thought, if he was brought here by creatures who were supposedly literally from hell, a woman bishop dressed comfortably wasn’t that unbelievable. 

 

Recovering from his surprise, he thought about the fact that if she was a bishop, she must be a respected member of the clergy and breaking into a vehicle was not a good first impression. He felt needed to do something to at least try to repair the damage such a seedy impression could give him. Recalling the formalities drilled into him from a young age, he attempted to even things out with a bit of politesse. He took her proffered hand with a feather light touch, enclosing it with his larger one by the fingers only, and bowed deeply to place a quick kiss to her knuckle. “It is a great pleasure to meet you, your excellency.” He said before straightening.

 

Maybel’s knee-jerk reaction to this was, damn, his hand is cold, followed by awkward discomfort at his clearly rehearsed and overly formal line. “Oh, gosh, you don’t have to do that, but thank you.” She smiled uncomfortably, without showing her teeth. When her next thought popped into her mind, the moment it did so could clearly be seen on her face. She added, “Actually, you especially don’t have to do that, I should be the one greeting you with such respect, since you rank higher than me.”

 

Luca frowned, confused. His head turned away just a little, changing the places that the floodlight reflected off his mask and making his face shape seem to morph. He looked at her from the side of his eyes. 

 

Maybel waited for the dark figure to respond, but no response ever came. He remained statue-still, letting the silence stretch on until more words fell out of her mouth. “Well, I mean, once you take your vows, of course. So I guess not yet, but soon. Anyway, what should I call you?” 

 

He began to feel a modicum of relief- she seemed to have dropped the subject of what must’ve looked like him stealing a moment ago. Bringing his gaze back to meet hers, he said simply, “Luca.” 

 

With the ice melting ever so slightly, Maybel began to let her guard down, if only a couple inches. Her previously guarded smile went away in favor of her natural, warm smile that reminded the masked man of a hot cup of cocoa on a cold and blustery day. So fixated on the sunniest smile he had received since he didn’t know when, he didn’t notice what was coming until one of her arms was already around his narrow waist, and pinning his arm between their bodies. “Welcome home, Luca.”  She said, with a voice just as inviting as her smile as she gave him a genuine side hug that threw Luca through ten loops. He stiffened in surprise at her action, but not because he was unhappy about it at all. It was just unexpected, when most of the time he was treated with neutrality, at best. The friendly touch actually felt good, in combination with the words welcome home, and despite these words coming from a stranger, Luca batted to push down emotion, forgetting to respond at all. 

 

The woman chuckled and pulled away after only a second. “Not much of a hugger, are you?” 

 

“No- no, I-“ I am, very much so, he tried to say, but his slight pause robbed him of the opportunity as Maybel cut him off unintentionally. 

 

“I didn’t think so, that’s okay. But anyways, welcome to your new home, we’re so glad you agreed to come! The church would’ve been in a bit of a pickle, if not.”  She canted her head toward the doors. “C’mon, I’ll show you to your room, and while we walk we can talk.”

 

Luca, feeling flabbergasted by this entire experience, couldn’t seem to pry any words from his throat to respond. He managed a small nod, following as the friendly woman turned and led the way through the ornate wooden doors. 

 

Inside, a large foyer with high, painted ceilings depicting Lucifer’s fall greeted them. There were gas lamps lining the walls, giving the room a warm, yet inviting atmosphere that Luca thought was old fashioned but appreciated. The lights were dimmed for the night, but there was still plenty of light to see by. As they walked, Maybel’s footsteps echoed softly on the stone floors, but somehow, Luca’s made little to no sound as he followed a step behind her, as if he was a spectre risen from the crypts to haunt the building. 

 

The pair turned down another hallway before either of them said a word, but this one was a little less ornate, and a little brighter, with a select few fluorescent lights illuminating it. The woman’s voice broke the silence, but she kept her voice low so as not to disturb anyone sleeping or draw attention. She did not want people popping out and asking questions about this newcomer that she couldn’t yet answer. “So, I don’t know if they told you already, but I was assigned to be a sort of mentor to you. You’ll be seeing a lot of my face in the coming weeks, so it would be nice to get to know each other a little. We don’t have to have a long ass get to know you conversation tonight or anything, I’m sure you’re tired, but I’m an open book, so, if you ever have anything to ask, don’t hesitate.” 

 

She turned her head to try to make eye contact, but Luca’s head was turning in all different directions as they walked, and his mouth hung open with a slight part between his lips. He didn’t respond, or even show any indication that he’d even heard her. Seeing him looking around like he’d never seen walls before reminded her just how new all of this was to him. He may as well have just entered a foreign country where he didn’t know the language, and walking down hallowed halls lined with statues and paintings of things like Baphomet, demons, inverted crosses and the occasional lustful art must have been quite a culture shock. “Do you have any pressing questions for me?”

 

Without looking her way, he asked right away, “can I meet my brother soon?” 

 

The immediacy at which this man of so few words gave his question told Maybel how long he’d been waiting to ask it, and she wished she had a more definite answer. She thought that Marika had had the conversation with Copia yesterday, when the ghouls informed her that the lost brother had been found, but she wasn’t positive, and she couldn’t mess this up. She quickly came up with what she hoped was a believable story that would let her delay their meeting until she could check for sure. Not that she would go knocking on Copia’s door this late at night anyway, but she didn’t think she’d be able to come up with a reason he couldn’t meet him over breakfast if he was home. “He actually just left today to go meet with some people at another branch, but I think he will be back in a few days.”

 

He finally turned his mismatched eyes to her and gave a small nod of acknowledgement before asking another question, his voice small, and once again, seemed very unfitting for his intimidating image. “He really does exist then?” 

 

Finally, he was talking a little more, Maybel thought, and she hoped to be able to expand upon that progress. It seemed like this man had a thick shell, but she was determined to crack it.  “Mhm, he sure does. This is such a weird experience for me, because of it, in fact. I have worked with him for years. You’re so similar in stature, you sound a lot like him, but based on my admittedly super limited knowledge about you so far, you aren’t like him at all.” 

 

His lips tightened ever so slightly, and he looked down. You aren’t like him at all, he repeated in his mind. He wasn’t sure what this would mean for their relationship, and it worried him. He couldn’t help but hope to have something besides parents in common, but it sounded like the chances were low.

 

At last, the pair reached a closed door, which Maybel stopped in front of. She produced a key from somewhere, but Luca didn’t catch where, unlocked the door, and pushed it open revealing a furnished room. The decor was nothing special, consisting of stuff you could find at any big box store. It was somewhat neutral intentionally, so that whoever lived in the room could add things to their taste without it looking wildly out of place. A few lamps were already on, making what was essentially a studio apartment much brighter than the hall just outside. 

 

Maybel led the way into the room, and made herself at home, dropping herself on the beige fabric sofa that filled most of the small living area while Luca followed her in, but paused just inside the door. Inside this room was also a double bed, covered with a navy duvet, flanked by two wooden night stands, each with a lit lamp. Closer to the living area sat a round table with two chairs, a kitchenette, and door leading to a small, but modern bathroom. Maybel patted the seat cushion near her. “Come, sit for a minute,” She encouraged Luca to come further into the room. 

 

The quiet man nodded, and made his way near the sofa in the silent way of his, but rather than take the offered seat, he gracefully lowered himself to the floor a couple feet away, and folded his legs crisscrossed. He looked up to the woman expectantly, with his eyes much more visible in the room’s light. The mask no longer cast them in such hard shadows, now that there was soft lamp light from several directions. 

 

Maybel raised an eyebrow and frowned, looking down at Luca as he affixed her with a strong gaze that made her feel like he could see right through her. Why didn’t the ghouls mention how intense his looks are to me? She wondered for a moment, but she soon decided that since they were not human, these kinds of small details did not affect them nor unsettle them like they would a human, so they probably thought nothing of it.

 

“Uhm. You can sit on the couch, you know?” She offered, still optimistic about figuring this man out. She’d worked with a few Papas before him, after all. A man who was a little intimidating or eccentric at times was nothing she couldn’t handle. This one had not actually done anything scary, besides forget to blink for a little too long, anyway. 

 

The man on the worn wooden floor shook his head. 

 

She was about to argue with him about it until he unfolded his injured leg, and turned it, bringing attention to the half-shredded jeans, road burned scuffs, black road dirt, and dried blood. Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with a gasp. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry, I totally forgot about your wreck! They told me you crashed your bike but I also kinda didn’t really understand what Dew was saying, are you okay?” 

 

He shrugged, moving only his shoulders, and nodded once. He left his leg extended in front of him, twisting it a little to get a better glimpse at how the wounds were looking after a little time had passed, and observing an angry reddish tinge surrounding the worst ones. Yes, he thought, a good washing is definitely due.

 

Another question from the bishop drew his attention away from his leg. When he looked up at her, he found she was staring at him, with her eyes looking over him top to bottom. “Fucking hell, you have rocks in your hair, even! What happened?”

 

He reached up to touch his bun, which was beginning to fall out, to confirm the presence of the rocks she mentioned. The motion of him pushing his hair around caused a couple pebbles to fall out, and sent them rattling across the floor. “I fell, and skidded down the road.” He replied as he felt the debris he’d been carrying in his hair without realizing. He paused for several seconds before slowly adding, “the rocks are from the road.”

 

He could see Maybel’s brain working, and her eyes shifting up and down his body from his legs to his torso to his messy hair. Her eyes narrowed- she had noticed something unusual.  “Is your back or arm all torn up too? Under the jacket?” 

 

Luca shook his head. He hadn’t seen it, but didn’t feel the stings anywhere else on him as he did on his leg each time his skin pulled at the edges of the wounds. 

 

“I don’t understand, how did you stay off your back but manage to get rocks in your hair?” She asked with genuine confusion. 

 

Luca’s head tilted in a manner that reminded Maybel of a confused puppy. He pursed his lips a little, not understanding why she was asking him this. “…I didn’t? I was on my back longer than my side.” 

 

“But you were wearing this jacket?” 

 

He gave her a suspicious look at this extended line of questioning, furrowing his brow although it could not be seen beneath his mask, a slight movement above his eyes could. With a frown, he replied, “yes.” 

 

They shared a prolonged, awkward few seconds of eye contact, each waiting for the other to elaborate more. Of course, Maybel gave in first. “It must be a very durable material, then, maybe you should get some leather pants from wherever you got that jacket.” 

 

“I don’t know where it came from.” 

 

“How? You’re wearing it.” She pressed. If he was finally talking, she wanted to get the most out of it before he went into his quiet mode again. She took this as a good sign that eventually, he would open up. 

 

“I got it from a guy in a ditch.” 

 

Maybel’s eyebrows raised. There was no good or wholesome situation she could think of where a man would be willingly divesting himself of such a fine leather jacket while in a ditch.  After seeing him so easily break into the car, the words, “was he alive?” Came out of her mouth before she could stop them. 

 

Luca pulled his head and neck back, and his frown got deeper. “You think I killed a man for this jacket?” He asked incredulously. He was hurt by this question, and the assumption that she thought he was a truly evil person, but he tried not to show it. 

 

“Well, not necessarily, maybe he was already dead and you just found him-,”

 

“I’m a grave robber, then?” He schooled his tone into a neutral one, but his hopeful eyes had dimmed, and she noticed. Before she could say anything else, he added with some offense creeping into his soft voice, “I’ve stolen one thing in my life and it was not this.” He tugged on the open front of the leather.

 

Maybel felt awful, but kept on talking in the hopes that she could right things rather than let him close himself off and start their working relationship on the wrong foot. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to accuse or offend. But now I am curious, what was the one thing?” She dug, but with a wince. 

 

He looked into her eyes again, judging her intentions. He found no trace of anything but the curiosity she mentioned, and perhaps embarrassment over her earlier comment. She meant well, it seemed. He decided to give her the answer she wanted. “It was a wedding ring.” 

 

Her jaw dropped in surprise. “You’re married? You should’ve said so, your spouse is welcome to join you!” 

 

He held up his left hand, notably without a ring on his finger. He shook his head. He would have liked to be married, he thought, the whole notion of a close partner suited him, at least in his head. But it just hadn’t been in the cards for him. “No, it was for another man’s wife.” 

 

“You stole a ring to give to a married woman?” She asked for clarification, surprised again. Dew had warned that this man was confusing, and it turned out, for once, he wasn’t just being dramatic.

 

He folded his extended leg back under his other. “No, I stole the ring back from the pawn shop he sold it to so he could give it back to his own wife.” 

 

Maybel laughed good naturedly. Somehow, her laughter was as warming as her smile was, and Luca hoped to hear it more often. Something about her made a person feel like they’ve known each other forever, even if they’d just met. She snapped her fingers and wagged a finger at him. “Ahhh, so you’re the good kind of criminal. Good to know. But I do have one more question before I get out of here for tonight. How did you get that jacket from the guy in the ditch?”

 

“He gave it to me. I saw him while I was out riding one day, pinned under his bike in the ditch. I stopped to help, and he told me to take it because it was cursed. I thought it would be fitting after-“ he trailed off. “I just thought it would be fitting, so I kept it.” 

 

“Maybe blessed is more like it, since it protected you from the road without even a single scratch on it.” 

 

He just shrugged. 

 

“Well, here is your key. This room is yours, for now. You can feel free to rearrange or add decorations or whatever, but just remember that this is only temporary, so I wouldn’t recommend permanent changes for now.  Once you are officially Papa you’ll get a much more spacious, full apartment over in a different wing. I do have to say, though, that for now, we have to keep you a little undercover.” She paused a moment to let that sink in, and held out the key, which was on a little pink spiralized wristband, for him to take. He accepted it gingerly, turning it over in his hand.

 

 “The reason for that is, I want you to have a chance to do some studying up, and a chance for me to teach you stuff you need to know about being Papa before everyone sees you. They’ll be hounding you with questions once they notice that white eye of yours, and it won’t be a good look if the future Papa doesn’t know a thing about the church he is meant to lead.” 

 

The idea of being hidden away like some sort of dangerous creature gave him pause, but he understood the reason she gave. He didn’t particularly want to embarrass himself by being asked questions he couldn’t answer, or breaking some unspoken etiquette rule, either, so he nodded in agreement. 

 

“Uhm, what else…” she tapped her fingertips together, looking up at a corner of the room as she thought. “Oh right! I can go get you a first aid kit and drop it off to you in a minute, or I can have the on call nurse we have here at the ministry come and give you a once over, help clean up those road burns, that kind of thing, if you want?” 

 

“No doctor.” Doctors and medical staff seemed to have some sort of pact- every one he had seen since adulthood just had to ask a hundred questions about his mask, and they gave him a hard time if he refused to remove it. He was too tired to deal with one at the moment. Worst case, he figured, they might offer him antibiotics if it turned out to be necessary. 

 

“Alright then, Luca, I will go grab the first aid thing for you, then get out of your hair. I’ll come here and knock in the morning to get started with our work. But don’t worry, I’m usually not an early riser!” She smiled once more in that warming way of hers, pushed herself up off the couch, and headed out the door, leaving the man to wander around his new quarters.

He was more than happy with this place, and felt he could be quite at home here, even if he never got moved to a larger spot. So far, he liked this bishop who he was supposedly going to work with, too, and her help was going to be appreciated. He only hoped that he could apply some of his catholic liturgical knowledge to this new world he walked into to help him get up to speed. There was a big task ahead of him. 

 

Chapter 5

The next morning came too quickly for Maybel’s liking, after staying up late to meet the mysterious new Papa the night before. But, there was a lot of work to do, and so she was at his door a little before eleven in the morning. As promised, she didn't want to show up too early, as she was sure that he must be as tired as she was, if not more. Her first set of knocks did not earn a response, so she knocked on the door for the second time, and put her ear to the cool wood to listen for any movement inside. Still, nothing could be heard, even in this quiet hallway. 

 

The next time she rapped her knuckles on the hard wood, she called the man’s name- there was no one in this secluded section of the hallways to hear her and give away her stowaway anyway.  But still, there was nothing but silence behind the door, and now, she was starting to get concerned. Surely he should’ve woken up by now with all this banging, if he was still asleep even though it was nearly noon. Her mind started running circles, and the next thing she knew, it was coming up with worst-case scenarios, like the sudden certainty that he actually had some sort of brain injury from the accident that didn’t show any symptoms until it was too late. With urgency, she began pounding on the door. “Luca! Please open the door! Luca! 

 

Her incessant pounding lasted a good several seconds during which she got more and more worried. When she finally heard a drowsy, gruff sounding, “hold on,” she had never felt more relieved. 

 

Nearly a minute later, she heard the door unlock, but the room's occupant didn’t actually open it, so she decided to take the unlocking of the door as a sign to enter. Once she slipped through the door, shutting it softly behind her, she found the room quite dark, curtains drawn, and no lights on at all. “Hey,” she said into the darkness, but she could not see the man she knew must be inside. After a moment, her eyes adjusted and she could make out the shapes of the furniture, but she really wanted to find a light switch. 

 

Her head swiveled as she tried to blindly remember where one was, until she nearly yelped as her eyes instead caught the limited amount of light filtering through gaps in the curtain reflecting off a familiar, shiny silver mask right beside her. “Christ!” She slapped a hand to her chest. “You scared me! Can we turn on a light?” 

 

Not a second later, the click of a light switch could be heard, and a couple overhead lights in the room came on, illuminating the space and casting better light on Luca. He had reddened creases indented into his jaw on one side; the kind that was a dead giveaway of a good ass nap. She wondered if he slept with that mask on- and figured that if he did, it could not be very comfortable pressing into his skin. Biting her tongue, she resisted asking about the eccentric costume piece. It would be more likely she would get an actual answer if she took some time to build rapport, first. 

 

He looked like he just woke up, as she expected, and his shorter strands of hair were wildly sticking out in all directions despite the straps of the hastily put on mask holding down parts of it, while the longer parts were half in front of his shoulders and half behind, twisted and tangled from sleep. And, most curiously, he had the bed sheet wrapped around himself almost like a toga, covering one shoulder, most of his chest and back, and twisted around his waist leaving only his socked feet, one pale bare shoulder and one arm exposed. He looked disoriented, and she had a feeling that if she asked, he would have no idea what time or day it was. 

 

“Uh, good morning, I take it that I woke you up?” She asked. 

 

He coughed to clear his throat and rubbed his chin. Absently, he noted it was becoming prickly again. “Yes, I’m sorry.” After a pause, his head tilted as he took in her appearance this morning and, he added, “Bishop Madison?” 

 

“…yes?” She still felt that anything besides her first name was too formal.

 

“You look different today.” He observed, with neither a positive or negative intonation, only his piercing gaze affixed right to her. She almost looked like a different person, he thought, now that she wasn’t dressed so casually.

 

“I just changed clothes, I guess I look different because I'm wearing a habit now, not a t-shirt, and my hair is down,” she laughed. “Speaking of clothing, why are you wearing your bed sheet?” Her brows pinched with a combination of confusion and the tiniest bit of concern. 

 

Luca’s mouth widened as his lips tightened. It wasn’t that he hoped she wouldn’t notice his state of dress, it was that he wasn’t proud of it. Languidly he pointed towards the kitchen with his exposed arm, but did not explain. 

 

She followed his finger, but it took her a moment to catch on that he was not pointing to the kitchen in general, but to the kitchen sink, filled with a pile of wet looking clothes. His leather jacket was folded on the counter beside the sink. Realization hit her and she winced, squeezing her teeth together. “Ohh, shit, I should’ve thought- you just brought that little bag with you- give me five minutes. You can finish waking up and I’ll come back with something for you to wear.”

 

She popped out the door, and returned a few minutes later, letting herself in since it was not locked behind her when she went out. Luca looked up with his eyes only, from where he sat on the sofa when she came in, slightly less bleary eyed as his gaze followed her as she crossed the room. His unruly hair was now tamed in a low ponytail, but he was still wrapped in the bed sheet nearly motionless as he watched her like he was some sort of ancient Greek statue. Arms full, Maybel started to hand him the pile of assorted clothing. “I just guessed what sizes, so if any of it doesn’t fit just let me know and I’ll trade it for something else,” she explained.

 

She held up each item as she named them, then passed each one to him to clear her hand for the next, leaving him to glance around hesitantly and balance the growing pile in his arms.  “A couple t-shirts here, Ghost ones, actually. I thought it would be appropriate and we have a ton of them.” 

 

He did his best to balance them neatly, but as the pile grew, so did the sense of guilt that began creeping into his stomach. 

 

“And here’s some joggers, a hoodie, a button down, some jeans, and a belt in case they’re too loose. The jeans I’m most unsure about. We can go shopping soon so you can pick out your own stuff, but this should do for the moment. Or do you need, like, socks, boxers, anything like that? We don’t have that lying around really, but I can run to the store real quick if you need.” 

 

The man looked up to her face gratefully, but extended his now full hands back to her in an attempt to return them. “This is too many.” He offered quietly, disbelieving as he looked down at the clothes, blinking. Truthfully, he would appreciate everything she was passing him, plus the few extra sets of undergarments each, but he just couldn’t stomach the idea of sending a strange woman to the store to buy him spare underwear. He kept a couple already, so he was alright for today, anyway. Plus, he hadn’t even done anything for these people yet, and since he walked through the doors, he felt like he’d been given so much. 

 

“Nonsense!” She smiled brightly, and laying a warm hand on either side of the freezing backs of his, patting them, then she pushed the clothing back to him. “You’re with us now, we take care of our own.” She tilted her head down and looked at him seriously from beneath long eyelashes as she said softly. “Really, just let me know what else you need.” 

 

The warmth of her skin thoroughly derailed his attempts at countering the offer. He was surprised at his own reaction, at how thrown he was by a simple touch. It was almost to the point he felt concerned- what was happening to him? It was nearly impossible for him not to say something to express gratitude when his eyes slid up from her hands to her own warm honey brown ones and his reply spilled out of him like water from a crack in a dam.

 

He shook his head. “No, I will be okay until we can go, if you’re sure it wouldn’t be an imposition to do so. This is very generous, really, thank you.”

 

“Oh, it’s nothing!” She waved it off with a ‘pfft!’ expression. “Why don’t you go and get dressed, then, and I will show you the cafeteria, and the rehearsal room. Just be quick about it, I’ve spoken to the cafeteria staff and they are letting us go in by ourselves for today, before they open for everyone to grab lunch, so that we can avoid interrogations.”

 

Luca nodded, shaking off the haze that had come over him, and stood up. He tucked the stack of clothes under his arm. The man hadn’t realized they had a time crunch, and felt a bit guilty for delaying the start of their day with something that should’ve been simple: being dressed. “Sorry, I ehm,” he pointed again toward the wet clothes in the sink. “I… fell asleep.” He gave an apologetic look, then pointed his thumb in the direction of the bathroom instead, sidled his way past the edge of the sofa, and backed through the bathroom door rather than turning around to walk normally to it. 

 

Maybel’s brows pinched together, and she frowned. Weird. But, she decided not to mention it. She wouldn’t gain any brownie points with this man if she made him feel self conscious or criticized for doing something strange when that strange action was inconsequential in the end. 

 

It didn’t take him very long to change and return in one of the Ghost tees, coincidentally one with an artist's rendition of his own brother riding his tricycle and leading a herd of rats, with the button down unbuttoned and layered on top.  Maybel mentally congratulated herself for her estimation skills when she saw that he had chosen the jeans, and they fit him pretty well. On his way out of the bathroom, he grabbed the folded leather jacket and slipped it on, taking a moment to adjust the sleeves of the button down which had gotten twisted in the sleeves of the jacket. When he was done, he faced Maybel and stood wordlessly with a blank expression, waiting. 

 

“Ready? Let’s go then. If someone asks questions, let me handle it.”

 

———————-

 

Maybel and Luca both held a to-go box of food each they’d picked up from the ministry cafeteria as they entered a new room. As soon as they crossed the threshold, the man’s jaw dropped. This room smelled of polished wood, dust, and the old Persian rugs that littered the floor. It had many, many guitars of all different kinds hung on one wall, speakers and amps lining the other walls, a drum kit, a grand piano and few keyboards, and shelves and shelves occupied by any type of instrument imaginable, as well as several microphones. The ceiling was not as high as other rooms, but it was covered in acoustic tile. In short, everything in here looked expensive. 

 

Maybel directed them towards some long desks situated off to one side of the room, covered with some machines with sliders and knobs Luca looked at with a furrowed brow, but despite his efforts, he could not identify. “So, this is our rehearsal room. You’ll be spending a lot of time here, I’m sure.” She handed her box of food to Luca to hold, unplugged a couple of wires in from the back of one of the machines in a practiced motion, and moved it from the table to a shelf, clearing the surface. She pushed two rolling chairs to either side of the table, sat down, and pointed to the other chair. “Here, sit there and we can eat while I tell you a little more about what we will need you to work on first.” 

 

He followed directions, quietly, and set down her box in front of her while still in awe of the room they were in, and followed her lead with his own box when she manipulated the tab on the squeaky styrofoam to pop open. Inside her box was a Philly cheesesteak sandwich and fries she had selected, while he opened his to reveal a handful of cooked carrots, sliced and piled next to precisely three buffalo chicken wings that filled the air with the scent of vinegar and spice. 

 

Maybel raised an eyebrow at his meager selection. “Is that all you wanted?” 

 

He nodded once, neutrally. 

 

She cocked her head. She was not so sure he was telling the truth. It had to have been hours since he and the ghouls had last eaten before they pulled up to the church late last night, and it was already lunch time. If it was her, she knew she would’ve wanted more than the scant serving he had selected. She had explained to him that the cafeteria here worked like a buffet, so he was welcome to just get whatever he wanted, though, so if he didn’t get what he actually wanted that was on him. She bit into her sandwich and swallowed her first bite before launching into her planned spiel. “So they explained to you that it’s tradition here for our church leader to also front the band, yes?” 

 

He nodded, and picked up a slice of carrot in his fingers to pop it in his mouth. 

 

“And like I said yesterday, according to your birthright you will be the church leader, our pope, hopefully soon. With that, you will also front the band. Our band has become more and more popular over the years, and we are usually playing to audiences between ten and twenty thousand in arenas anywhere we go. We follow a cycle; release a new album, tour with that album for a while, a break to work on the next album, tour again, and so on. Right now, we are on that break, because your brother has just finished his last tour. That means we need a new album, and we need one right away. And Papa is the one who comes up with his own album to tour with.” She watched his face to see as much of his expression as she could beneath the mask to judge his reactions, but he didn’t react at all- instead, he just kept slowly eating the soft cooked carrots, one slice at a time as if he did not hear her. 

 

She leaned her head toward him and pointedly raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to say something. Taking the hint, he paused mid bite to raise his eyes to hers and respond a simple, “Okay,” before looking back down at his plate. 

 

“So, just to be clear, the first thing we need you to do is start working on making an album.” She still held the expectant look she had been giving him. It was such a monumental task, but he seemed unbothered, and she wasn’t quite sure he was getting what she was saying. Surely he had more to think or say about being told this other than just a nonchalant, okay, right?

 

He nodded once in response, as if she had told him he needed to do something as simple as write his name on a paper. One side of her lip quirked downward in frustration, and she worried he was not taking this seriously. She took another bite of the sandwich, and took a deep breath. Time to try another tactic to get him to tell a little more. “I know you’re already a singer, but can you also write your own stuff?” 

 

“I have some melodies.” He replied quietly, still appearing unbothered by the task ahead. With as little touching of the saucy, messy chicken as possible, he picked up one of the wings with the very tips of two fingers and took a bite. 

 

Both eyebrows raised on her forehead, and she frowned, but not in a disappointed way. “You do? Can I hear something of it? The thing is, it has to sound like Ghost. All the albums do sound different, but they all sound like Ghost, they have to. Have you listened to any of our band's music before?” 

 

“No, I have not, and yes, you can hear it.” 

 

Maybel sat still and quiet, waiting with an expectant look, as if she was waiting for more words to fall from his lips, or perhaps for him to actually demonstrate some of the original music he claimed to already have in mind.

 

 He felt the pressure of her continued gaze, which was surprisingly effective at pulling more words from his lungs. “I guess I can play it on a piano or keyboard or-“ he looked around the guitar wall, spotting an acoustic one hung up high, out of reach, “or acoustic guitar, but it won’t sound like it does in my head. It would be better if…” if you give me a few days to learn how to use some of these things in the room to make the sounds I want because I have no idea what half of this does, he thought, but scrambled to find something else to say other than admitting he was somewhat clueless. He quickly came up with something that wasn’t a lie, and stuck with that. “It would be better if I listen to the music and have some time to make mine match stylistically.” He looked down and bit into the piece of chicken he was holding again with a crunch. 

 

A look of horror suddenly appeared on Maybel’s face. Luca was quick to notice. He finished chewing and swallowed hesitantly with a frown, before looking down at himself then turning to look behind him as he tried to determine what she was concerned about. When he didn’t see anything to justify her expression, nerves crept up on him, and he worried he had said something wrong. Was he supposed to have it ready to play and sounding like their band right now? He felt the hint of stability he was just settling into fading away.  They already gave him a place to stay, food, clothing, and she had said there would be more that he really didn’t want to lose. He had not even had the chance to meet his brother, or other family that the ghouls had implied were around. 

 

If she needed to hear something now, to prove himself worthy, he would do whatever he could to make that happen. He couldn’t let the opportunity get away due to himself being less than they expected, so he would try his best with what was more of a work in progress than a finished product to meet their expectations. “Or, ehm, I can play some now. ” he rolled his chair back with urgency and licked the small bit of buffalo sauce off his fingertips before standing to look for an instrument he could make due with. 

 

“Dude, did you just eat the bone?”

 

A shallow frown formed on his face, and his head tilted to one side. Looking back at her now, he just stood there, looking at her with one slow blink. He was so thrown off by the question, so far off the path he was expecting, that it took a moment to comprehend what she was asking. 

 

She clarified, eyebrows still sky high and eyes trained on his plate, which definitely had no discarded chicken bones on it. “You just ate the chicken wing, bone and all?” 

 

He looked around the walls behind her, avoiding her for a moment before letting his eyes land on her face. “…yes?” He finally replied, tentatively.

 

She shook her head, but her horrified look turned to one of amusement. Her voice was high, like she was scolding a child, not a grown ass man who was probably a decade her senior. “You can’t eat bones! You’ll choke or they’ll splinter and tear up your esophagus!” 

 

Luca felt some tension leave his shoulders as he realized that this was what the look was about, it was not because he didn’t immediately have original music to play and sing for her. “I don’t waste food. Small cooked bones are soft enough.” He explained matter of factly. 

 

Her skeptical look remained, but was smiling, now. She felt like she never guessed what he was going to do next, and the break from predictability of her usual days was welcome. Even if it was caused by this man’s mildly frightening eating habits.

 

“They taste good.” He added, after his eyes bore into her smiling face for a time, somewhat unnervingly.  Again, she smiled that warm smile, shaking her head a little, that hit Luca’s self protective walls like a wrecking ball, and he sat down again in the rolling chair. He met her eyes, and the corners of his lips quirked upwards in the slightest suggestion of a smile. “I will stop eating the bones, if it makes you feel better.” 

 

“I mean, eat them if you want, I guess, it’s your choice, but uh, thanks for the consideration.” She took a couple more bites of her food, chewing and swallowing it quickly. “So anyways, back on subject, uh, I’ll give you a few days to listen to some of the band’s music and get whatever material you have banging around in that head of yours ready. The other ghouls in the band will be arriving here in a few minutes to meet you, those that haven’t yet, anyway, and-“ 

 

“Bishop Madison?” He interrupted, eyes wide.

 

“Hm?”

 

“How many are there?” 

 

“Uh, eight? In the band, at least.” She counted on her fingers, mouthing each one’s name. “Rain and Dew are two of them though, you’ve met.” 

 

Eight! Eight demons who could lift a motorcycle or a grown man like it was nothing. He was glad he hadn’t taken another bite of food yet, or he may have choked. Instead, he played off the shocked expression on his face as a different type of surprise. “Those are their names?” He asked. Gen

 

“Well, Dew is short for Dewdrop, but yes. Assholes didn’t even introduce themselves? I’ll have to get after them for that. He is the shorter one of the two you met, the lead guitarist, and Rain, the taller one, plays bass guitar.” 

 

Luca’s lips tightened. He felt a little nervous about working with eight demons, but, primarily with the fire ghoul. That little creature made it very clear he didn’t like the newcomer, and he wasn’t so confident that Rain felt any different. He could only guess what they must’ve told the other six about him. He swallowed, but turned the idea around in his head a few more times. The prospect of having so many other musicians putting together good music could turn out to be very fun, if the two ghouls he had already met hadn’t convinced the others he was awful, he decided.  “I’ll be singing with an eight piece band?”

 

“Yep! And of course we sometimes use backing tracks for very elaborate parts or vocal effects, so you will have an experienced band and state of the art technology and shit to back you up. A little different to your solo acoustic guitar busking, you’ve been doing, I’m afraid.” 

 

He nodded. “I look forward to it.” 

 

“Yeah, so they’ll be here in a few minutes, but just to meet you and maybe play a couple songs for you so you can get the feel or how the band sounds, then I’ll show you to the tailor’s work room, to get your measurements for your vestments and stage costumes, once those are decided. Then maybe a couple hours for me to go over the very basics of our religion with you to finish off the day. Tomorrow we can go shopping, and you can work on music with the ghouls.” 

 

As Maybel had learned was his custom, Luca nodded once, but this time he added, “Is my brother back so I may meet him too?”

 

Shit. “Uh, no, not yet.” She lied, knowing perfectly well he was in the building. Earlier that morning, before she came to get Luca, she had reached out to Marika to ask if Copia had been informed, only to find out that while yes, he had been informed, he did not take the news very well, especially not learning his previously unknown twin brother was going to be taking his place. With that in mind, Maybel decided lying wasn’t so bad. But, maybe she could suggest something that might help the both of them. A nice letter that helped Copia get to know a little about his brother might take the edge off, and Luca clearly had something he wanted to say. “If you want to write a letter like, introducing yourself or something, I can have it delivered to him as soon as possible, though.” She offered with a polite smile. 

 

Luca’s face lit up, and he gave a wide grin, showing his teeth. Only, a beat later, he hovered a hand in front of his mouth, lowering it only when he started to speak. “Yes, please, I just need something to write with. Can I do it now?”

 

“Uh, sure.” She mumbled before crossing the room to the shelves, where she pulled out a couple white, blank pages, then came back to the desk they were at and found an old ballpoint pen she passed to the man as well. “There aren’t any envelopes here, but you can just fold the papers and I’ll grab one before I pass it along.” With one look at Luca, she could tell he didn’t hear a thing she just said. The pen in his hand was already flying across the page as he buried himself in writing this message, half eaten meal forgotten. 

 

It would be pointless to interrupt him, so she took the time to finish her sandwich and mentally outline details for the rest of the day. 

 

 

Chapter 6

“Knock knock!” Maybel peeked around the half open door to Copia’s new office. She had been in it a couple times since he moved into the Imperator’s office, and he had changed much of it to suit his taste, brightened it up a bit compared to the way it was before. He did keep the floral print couches that his mother had when it was her office, however, for nostalgic purposes, but the movie posters and trinkets all over the place would’ve given her an aneurysm. It was on the larger of these couches that she saw the man as he looked up to see who his visitor was. 

 

Mismatched eyes flashed with recognition. “Oh! Maybel! Come in, come in!” Copia smiled, characteristically friendly, and he stood up to greet her as she squeezed through the gap in the door. With arms held out, he invited her into a quick hug before backing up and resuming his spot on the couch. “What’s up Mayb?” He patted the seat cushion beside him, and the woman dropped onto it comfortably. 

 

She shifted to sit with her knees angled towards him, and met his eyes with a serious look. “You know that your mother wanted me to work with your brother, right? Marika told you?”

 

The friendly expression disappeared from his face the moment his brother was mentioned. “Yeah, I know.” He tried to keep the sour note from his voice, but failed, and it was clear to Maybel that her old friend was not pleased to talk about his “new” twin brother, but it did not surprise her. She’d heard he didn’t take it well, and years of working with Copia made it easy for her to tell her was not happy in his new position, despite how much he tried to make others think he was fine. 

 

Maybel nodded. She spoke gently, knowing it was a touchy subject. “He’s here- I’ve been in contact with him and spent some time with him the last few days.” She held eye contact, and paused a moment to let him process before continuing. “He wants to meet you, he’s already asked about it a few times. I heard you weren’t taking it well, so I have been making excuses, but he wrote you a letter.” The unmarked envelope felt heavy in her hand, but she held it out to the man beside her steadily. “This is it. I haven’t read it, nor did he tell me what it said, but, here you go.” 

 

Slowly, Copia raised his gloved hand to take it, but he just stared at the blank envelope for a few seconds before shoving it into an organizer on his desk. “Eh, right then, I’ll have to look at it later. I’m a very busy guy these days, you know.” 

 

Maybel laid a steadying hand gently on Copia’s forearm. “I understand you need some time to process, I don’t begrudge you that, but please let me know when you’re ready to meet him. He’s… an interesting character. But he is so eager to meet you, and I can’t make excuses forever.” Her hand moved from his forearm to the back of his shoulder to give a quick, reassuring rub over his suit jacket. For a moment, her long time coworker and friend held a wistful look, but it was quickly replaced by his usual bravado. 

 

“Well, I am not eager to meet him. He ought to be spending all his time learning how to do the job he is totally unqualified for before he runs the ministry into the ground. It took me years to do the job and for us to build what we have now, he better not fuck it up.” He frowned bitterly, and looked past the woman seated beside him. 

 

“I don’t want him to fuck it up either, I’m going to do my best to make sure he learns what he needs to, don’t worry. When you’re ready to meet him, or if you have words or advice you’d like to give him, you know how to reach me, I’ll make arrangements so you two can get together.” She patted his forearm, smiled sympathetically, and stood. “I gotta go, I have a Papa to make.” 

 

———————

 

A few minutes later, Maybel found herself back in Luca’s room, dropping off another armful of books. She had left him with as many as she could carry last time she saw him, and she still had more to bring. I sure hope he likes reading, she thought to herself. Presently, the man stood beside her after following her from his door to the small table near the kitchenette where his already existing stack of books waited. He eyed the new pile she carefully set down on the honey oak table and winced. He’d spent hours yesterday reading, from the moment they returned from the generous shopping trip that blew through the morning hours yesterday but provided him with new clothes and necessities he had desperately needed, including the black jeans and deep purple button down he wore today, plus some hair products that had made a noticeable difference in smoothing the frizzy curls he had become used to over time, which were tamed in a bun again today. 

 

He looked again at the newly delivered, worn leather bound books. These were mercifully not as thick as the last set she brought, but there were more of them. He stayed up until the small hours of the morning last night, spending quite some time working his way through three of the four heavy tomes he already had, and he wasn’t sure his brain would retain another sentence at the moment. 

 

He shifted his focus from the new books to Maybel when she addressed him. She dusted off her hands before putting the back of them against her hips and taking a deep breath, recovering from the strain of carrying the heavy hardbacks. “Here ya go, this should keep you busy for a week or two. Just like, make a stack somewhere else, whenever you finish a book, so I can collect them when I stop by and go put them back in the library, okay? The librarian might get pissed off at me if I keep half of the collection for too long.” 

 

Luca nodded, arranged the three he had finished into a neat stack of their own, and moved them from the table to the edge of the kitchen counter against the wall before turning back to her, standing with his fingers laced together in front of him, unmoving and quiet. 

 

Her eyebrows shot up and she affixed him with a skeptical look. “Are you moving those because you finished them already?!” 

 

He nodded, and she narrowed her eyes. “Yeah right. Skimming doesn’t count as reading, for this. You are going to be Papa, you’re supposed to know the most of anyone here, you have to actually absorb what’s in here.” 

 

“I did not skim.” He glanced back at the stack of finished books as replied neutrally. Definitely not, or he wouldn’t have only gotten around three hours of sleep and felt so tired that even the strongest coffee could not cure it.

 

Still disbelieving, the woman started quizzing him on the subjects the books covered, and to her surprise, he got everything right, only hesitating to think for one, before giving her the correct answer again. The skeptical look she wore changed into an impressed grin, rewarding the man for his diligent studying. And it was a reward he hoped to receive over and over. Again, Luca surprised himself with his own reaction to this relative stranger with a welcoming energy about her. He barely knew her, so why did one approving smile make him feel almost as studious as his desire to earn the security of a home and family by meeting the expectations of the church?

 

 Maybel put her hands on her hips. “Well, I’ll be damned.” 

 

He schooled his expression into continuing neutrality to give the appearance of someone unbothered by the task at hand, unaffected by the disarming smile that melted walls of ice built over the years, and as confident as if he was born into his future role, he quipped quietly, “Are you not automatically damned as a satanic bishop?” 

 

“Ha! I guess so.” She gave him a friendly whack with the back of her hand on his upper arm. “You got me there. Anyway, book Einstein, the tailor said he wants you to come try on the fitting of some vestments they made for you to wear, so it can be ready when we introduce you to the congregation. The goal is to do that soon so you don’t have to stay secluded back here forever.” Ever since she put him in this isolated room, she felt a little guilty, and worried that being housed in such a lonely area and kept away from the population of the church made the man feel like he was a shameful secret. Or an embarrassment, or something to be swept under a rug, and she was eager to rectify it. Not that her stowaway had complained, but she supposed that did not mean much when he rarely said anything at all unprompted.  

 

Luca nodded once. The prospect of exploring his new home and its grounds was exciting, but the uncertainty of how he would be received gave him pause. He was a stranger, a newcomer, a rookie- and being catapulted to the top right away would likely not win the hearts of anyone with ambition to climb the ranks here. But, he didn’t voice any of his internal thoughts in favor of staying quiet and observant as he followed Maybel out the door and to the tailor they’d visited a couple days ago to take his measurements. 

 

Before long, the pair were in the office of the ministry’s tailor and costumer, standing between several tables all over the room that were covered in swaths of fabric, most of which was black, but with a few patterned and colored pieces mixed in. The definition of organized chaos. The room was a little smoky due to a few sticks of incense burning, but not enough to choke on, only enough to give the room a rich earthy scent that permeated all the textiles. The tailor, an older man who surely must’ve been approaching if not past seventy, wearing the lines of a life well lived on his face behind big aviator glasses and receding gray locks atop his head was shoving a pile of fabric into Luca’s hands. “Put this on for me, would ya son? Hurry up now, all these garments won’t tailor themselves.”  He waved at a pile of black habits beside a work table. 

 

Luca turned back and forth, looking for some sort of dressing room. Finding none, he balanced the garment he’d been given on one arm and tried to unfold it without dropping it so that he could identify just what this was. But, a small tug at the folded black fabric caused a piece to fall to the ground, and he quickly recognized its shape. A pellegrina, black, like the rest, with purple edging that also matched the edges of the rest of the garment. The pellegrina’s presence informed him that this must be a cassock, which was a relief. He wouldn’t be expected to undress in the middle of the room in front of his new mentor and this old man, as he could just slip this over his clothes. With a quick motion, he scooped the pellegrina off the ground, set it on top of the nearest pile of clothes on a table, and flicked through the rest of the fabric to find the cincture, which he also carefully placed on the pile with the pellegrina. 

 

The tailor had busied himself with pinning some other project, but Maybel just watched as her mentee sorted through the pieces of his new vestment in a practiced manner, slid the main part on and began to button the length of it as if he’d done it a million times before. Her head tilted curiously, and the corners of her lips turned downwards with a, “hm…” as he easily wrapped the cincture around his waist and adjusted it to hang on what was the wrong side at this church, but what she knew was typical for Christian clergy. 

 

At last, he affixed the pellegrina around his shoulders, but fidgeted with it a bit when it didn’t sit quite right around his neck- he wasn’t wearing a clerical collar, and no matter what he tried, it just wouldn’t lay correctly. Giving up after a moment, he stood with his hands clasped behind him to wait for the tailor to return his attention to him to evaluate the work he’d done creating this. Now that he was stil, he felt eyes burning into him, and noticed Maybel’s inspecting gaze. He met her eyes, his expression clearly communicating, “what?” Without the need for words. 

 

“You put that on like a second skin.” Her voice betrayed her confusion. All evidence of him so far had led her to believe he was a nomadic, perhaps even something of a vagrant or criminal, bad boy type, and she was definitely not expecting him to be someone who put on clergy clothing as if he could do it with his eyes closed. It wasn’t that a cassock was overly confusing or difficult to put on correctly, but his motions lacked the fumbling hesitancy of someone putting one on for the first time. 

The cincture draping down on the opposite side bugged her like a thorn in her side and, she unceremoniously took a step forward, coming right up to Luca and slipping her fingers between the belt and the body of the cassock, then slid the tasseled bit across to his opposite hip, allowing her fingers to run along the warmth of his body along his waist. He sucked in a gasp that was uncomfortably loud to him in the quiet, smoky room, and the muscles in his abdomen tightened at the unexpected touch, but he did not move away, instead opting to look at her with wide eyes, frozen a moment before he remembered she probably expected some type of response. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

 

”Sorry,” she mumbled during the silence, she hadn’t meant to startle him.

“Oh, ehm, I have some practice.” He said quietly, a touch shaken, lips barely moving as he looked away from her in favor of apprehensively watching the tailor coming at him with several sharp pins in his mouth and one in his hand. 

 

Used to his short answers that somehow managed to rarely actually be an answer by now, she was prepared to pry. “Do tell?” 

 

The future Papa’s body remained stock still, besides his eyes following the hand’s of the tailor, who continually placed pins through the fabric dangerously close to his body. He wet his lips with his tongue and swallowed. “I was a catholic priest.”

 

Her mouth opened in shock. “What?! Recently?” 

 

“No.” He kept his gaze trained on the sharp pins being stuck through the fabric. 

 

She took a step closer to him with her curiosity off the charts. “How long ago? Why’d you quit?” 

 

“Over twenty years.” He purposely ignored the second question. 

 

Mercifully, the tailor made a rotating motion with his hand, disrupting the line of questioning. “Turn around, kid,” he ordered, and Luca spun around obediently, allowing the tailor to place some pins on his other side and conveniently ending the current line of conversation as his back was now to Maybel. The next several minutes were spent in silence, until the old man informed Luca he was finished and could remove the garment for him to sew, dismissing him for the day. 

 

———

 

“A priest, huh? Father Luca?” Maybel giggled, waggling her eyebrows in a lighthearted, teasing way. 

 

“Yes.” The reserved man was resting on a tall stool a few feet away, one foot on the legs, the other balancing him on the ground, as he fiddled with the tuning knobs on an acoustic guitar he’d pulled down from the wall of guitars now that he and Maybel were back in the rehearsal room. 

 

“Somehow everything that comes out of your mouth surprises me, man. How did you become a priest?” She half sat on one of the tables, relieving her feet of some of her weight. 

 

“It was a fate decided for me.” The guitar sounded as he plucked a few strings, testing the tuning. As it turned out, according to his mentor, his schedule was pretty free today, and following her suggestion, he planned to use it to work on the music the church wanted from him. The acoustic was what he was most comfortable with, so he opted for that to play around with rather than the electric guitars he knew would need to be on the album. It could be switched out later, once he decided what he wanted. 

 

“What does that even mean?” She asked about his ominous statement, knowing that more details were not likely to be volunteered. Especially not now, when his intelligent eyes were focusing on turning the knobs to adjust for minute differences in pitch that she couldn’t identify even after years of working with the band. Musicality itself was never her strong point- working on the technical bits that allowed the musicians to be at their best was. 

 

For a moment, he was no longer in the fully loaded rehearsal room, jumping into a new life he had high hopes for, but instead reliving some memories of his youth. Memories of being scolded for asking questions and repressing his feelings to avoid getting in trouble, or the horrible guilt those feelings brought. Distantly, he replied, “I was raised in a monastery, it was natural for me to attend liturgical school.” 

 

His aptitude for picking up all that was included in the books she gave him made more sense now; he must already be familiar with everything, and now he was just learning the other side of the story. She crossed one leg over the other at the ankle. “Why’d you leave?” 

 

Luca stiffened and a discordant sound issued from his instrument before he silenced it by pressing on the strings with a flat palm. “That’s my business.” He grumbled. 

 

“Did you get defrocked or something?” She pushed, dying to know. She leaned forwards towards him now, eager to hear whatever juicy information he would reveal about his mysterious past. “Not that it would be a problem, it might even be a good thing, here with us. Well, depending on the reason, I guess if you harmed someone or something that wouldn’t be so good but if-“

 

He suddenly stood from his place on the stool and turned around, walking a few steps away, shutting her out. His voice could’ve even been interpreted as borderline hostile with his next sentence. “I said it's my business, I don’t want to talk about it.” He barked, and made no move to come back near her, instead opting to pluck out a melody that had been stuck in his head ever since he spent a few hours gazing at the stars in the back of the pickup truck on his way here. Pointedly ignoring Maybel, he began to softly hum what would become the vocal line, whenever he decided what he wanted the lyrics to be. 

 

The woman crossed her arms and kept quiet for a few minutes, listening from her place on the table across the room. He was humming a ballad, and although it wasn’t a heavy rock song, she took it as a good sign he actually had the ability to come up with music, like he claimed he did. Since he clearly wasn’t going to give her any more information about his clerical past, she decided it would be a good time to change the subject to one of the many other things that needed to be worked out very soon. “Luca?” 

 

He stopped playing abruptly but didn’t turn around. Rude, all I did was ask a question.  She huffed. 

A little bit peeved at his closed off attitude when she didn’t feel she had done anything wrong, Maybel returned the energy he was giving, and spoke bluntly and businesslike. “I’m leaving a folder on the table here, it has a couple different options for tour itineraries. Please review them and let me know by tomorrow which one you think is best. We need to book the venues like, yesterday, if we want to get back on the road within a reasonable amount of time.” She paused. If he’s going to be all pissy, I can make him squirm a little too. If there was one thing she did not tolerate, it was lack of respect for others. And turning your back to someone who has been doing their best to help you and ignoring them was not very respectful. She put her hands on her hips. “The record label will be expecting at least one demo by Friday, to get the ball rolling. And, since you’re getting through those books so quickly and have clerical experience already, I think we ought to be introduced to the rest of the clergy by then, too.” 

 

She hadn’t actually spoken to the label yet, but he didn’t have to know that. Lighting a fire under his ass wouldn’t hurt either, she decided. Plus, she wanted to get him out into the community sooner rather than later, anyway, so what was the harm in framing this in a little bit of a threatening way? 

 

As was typical for him, he gave a simple answer that did not betray how he felt inside. “Okay. That is no problem.” He mashed one hand into his face, causing the mask to dig into his cheekbones in a slightly painful yet grounding way. After a long, deep sigh, he began to pluck at the guitar again, working out a little more of the melody each time he repeated it. It was going to be a busy few days.

 

“The ghouls will be back here again to work on music with you at three. Then tomorrow morning I’m going to come get you at like nine thirty to go meet with the costume designer and this other guy who helps with stage set design to brainstorm. You know, to start getting some loose ideas going for the next production, so, see you then.” With that, she marched out the door, leaving the man to his haphazard composing. She might be throwing him off the deep end a little now, but it would not be the only time it would happen to him as Papa. It would help if he got prepared or used to handling it before he was thrust into the spotlight. And sincerely, she hoped he knew how to swim. If not, she would have her work cut out for her helping him learn to at least tread water, but she knew she was the woman for the job.

 

Chapter 7

Summary:

Hi everyone! As always thanks for reading and for your kudos and reviews, they make my day!

Also to anyone who might have notifs on: sorry I uploaded this chapter but then I decided I hated it and deleted it to revise (thanks ggggggg for the help!) but now we are back in business hopefully improved. Now that the background work is mostly out of the way, I hope to get into the meat and potatoes of the fic soon!

The light of a full moon during the small hours of the morning shone through a set of gossamer curtains, illuminating the steady slumber of who was quite possibly the ministries most-likely-to-pull-her-hair-out bishop. The relative quiet of her night shattered as the shrill sound of the phone ringing rattled the space between her ears, and as Maybel’s eyes cracked open to check the caller ID, she nearly silenced the device to drift back to sleep. Her fingers pressed the side silence button just as her brain finally reached a level of consciousness that registered what it read: Sister Rosa - Librarian. 

It was too early to be anything but confused about why on earth the librarian would need to call her at 6:03AM, but rubbing her eyes drowsily with her free hand, she figured she had better answer it. Rolling onto her side with a groan, she tapped the answer call button and brought it to her ear. “Hello?” She answered in a voice thick with sleep and confusion about what emergency could possibly be going on at the library that she could help with.

Her confusion doubled when the voice came through the speaker- the woman on the other end of the line was whispering frantically. She sounded frightened. “Bishop Maybel! Forgive me for disturbing you, but there’s a man in the library!” 

Maybel frowned, and shook her head, and even offered a flippant wave or her hand unseen to the woman on the other end of the line. She wasn’t awake enough for this. So? There are men in the library every day. “Yeah?” 

The hushed whispering continued, spewing out words like she had a time limit that was fast approaching. “I came in to start my shift and when I turned on the lamp by my desk I saw a, a, a shape in the dark in a chair across the room, hunched over, and it’s a strange man I’ve never seen! I don’t know how he got in here!”  

Maybel just closed her eyes, let a loud breath from her nose, and shook her head again, still lost, but her mind was slowly becoming more clear as the fog of sleep drifted away. Lord give me strength, both for if there is an actual emergency and if there is not. “I’m sorry sister, but why are you calling me and not the police? Are you in danger? Are you still in the library? What’s the man doing?”

There was an audible muffled scuffling on the other end of the line, like the phone or its wielder were in the process of shifting positions. A second later when she spoke again it became apparent the librarian seemed to be calming herself as Maybel’s sleepy but logical line of questioning pointed out that she was not in danger, and brought her to the realization that the stranger must belong to the church. True criminals didn’t typically carry huge burdensome blankets and break in to read.

A bit more controlled, but still noticeably shaken, she replied, “I am in the storage room, he was sleeping when I crept over there to see what the shape was. I saw he had a notebook that said ‘ask Maybel’ about something but I got scared and ran away in case he woke up, so I didn’t read the details, but I called you cause I thought you might know who he is? I think he’s still asleep but I don’t know what his intentions are, or how he got in, the door was locked! He’s almost totally covered with a blanket and he is wearing a mask. I’ve never seen him.”  

Fuck, the cat is out of the bag. The bishop covered her face with her hand. Lord give me strength and a stiff drink.  “A mask? Yeah, I know him. I’ll handle him, be right there. He is not dangerous, don’t worry.” With a groan, she pushed herself out of bed and headed to her closet to grab a habit. 

“Oh, good, good, thanks Maybel, that’s a relief.” 

“See you in a sec,” Maybel finished as she slipped on the most accessible shoes she could find, and headed out the door still adjusting the fabric of her habit. 

———- 

The door to the vast library was unlocked, and as she cracked the heavy wood and peeked inside, most lights were off and the dim few that were on left tall shadows between the aisles, as she expected for the ungodly hour. The librarian must still be hiding in the storage closet, she figured, noting the lack of Sister Rosa’s greeting her. Squinting her eyes as she stepped inside and continued to scan the room, she saw the shape she had described: a hunched over figure with a blanket over his head and shoulders, so large that it fell all the way to the ground, covering the rest of his body and the chair he was sitting in.

She approached carefully, but the weight of her footfalls caused the old floorboards to creak and echo through the quiet. Bending at the waist as she closed the final distance between herself and the slender shape hidden beneath the bedding, she then confirmed it was her ward. And, the cheek of his mask was pressing a dent into the page he was now using as an impromptu pillow in a way that could not be confortable. The corners of her mouth turned down just slightly in a wince. This guy is nothing if not dedicated, she thought. That’s one thing going for him.

The squeak of a door hinge behind her interrupted her thoughts, and a quick look over her shoulder revealed the librarian sneaking out of the storage room with all the grace of a ghoul freshly summoned from the pits, coming up to her and her mentee. 

She turned back to the sleeping lump in front of her. “Luca,” Maybel called, lightly poking the man over the blanket wrapped around him, which she now recognized with a furrowed brow was his bed comforter. No reaction. Her polite efforts to wake the man were futile. Reasoning that the doubled over comforter was too thick to allow him to feel her poking, she pulled it off his head and shoulders to reveal a mane of mussed curls falling down over his shoulders, free of the clips and ties he’d been using to tame it lately.

“Luca!” She tried again, louder. Still nothing. He was still out and still snoring softly, blissfully unaware of his impending rude awakening. This motherfucker has got to be the heaviest sleeper I have ever met, she mused.  

“Luca!” She tried once more, dropping a hand to his shoulder and giving him a firm shake. By then she felt the presence of the librarian behind her and mentally prepared an explanation of just who this man was. As soon as he opened his eyes there would be questions, and she had an entire half second to come up with a good answer. 

Maybel took half a step back as the man startled awake and sat up with a sharp gasp and mismatched eyes blown wide open. The librarian was in his direct line of sight, and as their eyes met, she could see the moment the realization hit him.

His jaw clenched and his once lax body was taut as a wire as his head snapped left and right looking for a quick escape almost like a prey animal looking into the eyes of a tiger, despite the fact that by tonight, he would be officially the top of the ministry’s food chain. 

It didn’t take long for his eyes to fall on Maybels familiar countenance, clearly conveying one word: help?

“Bishop Maybel…” Sister Rosa whispered, sidling closer to the other woman like she was trying to speak without the comforter clad man hearing her, but in the pin-drop silence of the library, there was no way he did not. “His eyes. Who…?” 

Maybel glanced at Luca as his drawn expression tightened further- Yeah, he definitely knows he fucked this one up. Her brows drew together in a wince.

 “Uhh, Sister Rosa, this is…” she flipped back and forth in her mind between introducing him with his given name, or by the title he would soon be awarded. The title that had already been discussed between her, Marika, Mr. Psaltarian, and with reluctance on his end, Copia, but unfortunately not yet with the man receiving it. It became clear that neither option was ideal.

“Uh,” she hesitated again as the eyes of both the man still bundled in a huge blanket and the librarian burned into her. It was not a great first impression for a Papa, but after some quick thinking, she decided it would be most reasonable to explain away his sudden presence by just admitting who he was. It shouldn’t be such a surprise anyway, not after the entire congregation had been waiting, expecting, a shiny new replacement for Copia to appear even since before he even finished his final bows. She pulled her eyes away from him and drew in a confident breath, decision made.

“This is Papa V Perpetua.” She finished, finally, puffing herself up and presenting him like the future figurehead of their church wasn’t wrapped in both his leather jacket and his blanket like a cold, shivering puppy with half his hair sticking up at odd angles and a bewildered look on his masked face. 

“He’s- he’s WHAT?!” The sister's voice rose in volume, almost shrill with shock. This wouldn’t do. She could have this sister waking up the whole ministry with this news- not now. 

Thinking quickly, Maybel shushed the woman. “Hey! No! Sh sh sh! I mean, yes you heard me, but this needs to stay a secret, at least until…” she trailed off, cursing in her head as she realized the announcement mass needed to be moved up now. It wasn’t her first day at the ministry or her first time meeting Sister Rosa. She knew the rumors would be flying by lunchtime at best.

She brought forth her best authoritative bishop voice. “Until tonight’s mass. Can you do that?” 

Sister Rosa hesitated- no doubt already mentally spilling the tea with 65 of her closest friends. 

The librarian’s hesitation was not comforting, so she tried a new tactic of reducing the potential gossip. “Look, sister. You’ve had the honor of being one of the privileged first few to lay eyes on his unholiness, the future of our church. Consider starting off on the right foot with his dark excellency by keeping this to yourself and not ruining the grand reveal he’s been working so hard on.” Another meaningful side glance at Luca had him scrambling to collect his things and quickly return to her side, now catching the hint and posturing proudly, shoving his chin in the air and shoulders back, despite the bewilderment on his face that even the mask could not hide. 

The sister looked between the two of them and gave a series of short nods, curtsied to Luca, and turned to resume her duties as her morning visitors made long strides towards the library's double doors like they were late for an audience with the devil himself.

—————————— 

“I’m sorry, I fucked up, I’m really sorry.” Luca’s flat, quiet voice broke the silence between them just as the door to his room clicked shut behind him. He remained stood just inside the door and carefully watched his boss-assistant enter the room and pass him just as quickly as she’d made the journey there. Her own body language was rushed in a way he hadn’t yet seen- granted, he’d only been there a short time, but it was still clear she was upset about something, and it didn’t take a lifetime scholar to guess what or who it was that had done it. 

She’d torn out of the library like they were being tailed by demons, and despite his longer strides he nearly jogged just to keep up. Consequently, he hadn’t been sure exactly where she was going, and it had left him to follow after her like a duckling whose mother rushed off without a care. 

The tips of his fingers began to worry the edge of the blanket in his hands when she did not respond in any way to his apology. If his hands were free he might’ve knocked his knuckles into his mask like it would somehow knock some sense into him. He couldn’t stop the fear took root in him that now he’d have all this ripped away barely one step into his journey. the fear that he’d be out of here before he even was able to meet the family members that he was promised were here, or that his next sleep would be back on a park bench somewhere with nothing but a thick canopy of trees above him, if he was lucky. 

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He tried to get a response again.

Dark honey eyes sporting dark circles as evidence of her early morning met his own. Her brow furrowed. She gave him the sort of look one might give a puzzle that was missing a few pieces, then held it for several seconds before it eventually morphed into a look of concern. He could only hope it was for him, versus concern for what to do with him.

Holding her gaze, he watched and waited for any hint of which it would be. When none came, he blurted, “Please don’t kick me out. I don’t make a habit of fucking things up, I swear.” As soon as the words left him, he made a point to look anywhere but at her. 

She softened immediately, now understanding. Of course he didn’t want to lose everything he had gained and be back on the street; it was no wonder he was busting his ass to do what was asked of him when he feared sleeping on the ground again was the alternative. Frowning sympathetically, she shook her head. “Luca.” She waited until he moved his eyes to hers again. “You’d have to do worse than falling asleep reading in the library to get kicked out. Stop acting like you’re about to get thrown out on the curb before you even start.” 

“Thank you.” The tension in him released immediately and he blew off the steam with a deep sigh. 

“Speaking of reading…” she untucked his book from where she’d carried it for him under her arm, and held it out in front of her to see its title, then flipped it open to a random page. Rather than an actual book, it was actually an elaborate instruction manual for one of the mixing boards in the rehearsal room. “You fell asleep reading an instruction manual? Can’t say I blame you. But why?”

Because you gave me a shit ton of things to do during the day, and I have no clue how to use equipment I need to know by today. He thought to himself. He gave her a deadpan look, with the corners of his lips curving downwards in the slightest hint of a frown, and speaking as if this was something she should’ve known. “New York Times called it the thriller of the century.” 

As soon as he formed the words he knew he was pushing his luck, but he got the verdict immediately and felt a smile begin to crack across his face.

“Pfft!” A sound resembling a pig’s snort escaped the woman without her permission, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. However, the creases at the corners of her eyes gave away her continued grin, even if she was able to hold back audible laughter. Luca smiled wider at the sight, relieved his quip landed and dissipated the tension that had been hovering  between them like a fog since they’d both been short with each other the other day.

The woman met his eyes momentarily before quickly averting her gaze back to the book she held, and his expression dimmed. A hand came up to block the unmasked part of his face when a flash of Dew’s disturbed expression when he accidentally smiled a little too wide on their drive to the ministry several days ago appeared in his mind.

Brushing off the unwelcome memory, he warmed as he stood and watched Maybel make herself at home and pretend she wasn’t as amused as she actually was. But as he watched, a mildly alarming realization came over him. He couldn’t stop thinking about seeing her smile at him. Her laughing at his joke felt more rewarding than it ever had when he made someone laugh in the past. He was feeling good just thinking about her sunny grin, and the implications of these feelings made him scold himself for his own schoolboy fancies. A man his age shouldn’t be feeling this way. After a moment of musing over it, the man fought the urge to physically shake off this cloud that had slowly been creeping into the crevices of his brain.

Luckily he didn’t have much time to spiral- she kicked her feet up onto the coffee table and questioned him further. “Okay, but actually?” 

Without missing a beat or betraying his train of thought, he replied, “You said they expected a demo by Friday and it is now Thursday.” He then busied himself by laying the comforter back on the bed, and straightening it neatly atop the sheets, unaware of the woman’s eyes narrowing as they shifted between him and the book he’d fallen asleep on. 

“And… you were trying to… teach yourself how to work all the recording equipment.”

He turned back to her just in time to see her spare a glance toward the now crowded spot on the counter he’d designated for finished books, and he didn’t miss the twitch of approval on her lips as she did. 

He nodded. “How else would it get recorded? I was asked to do something, so I was doing it.”  

The book thumped closed in her hands and she added it to the top of his existing stack. She shook her head. “dude, you could’ve just said something instead of killing yourself over it, you’re not expected to know how to do that. I am passable enough at working it to help with the demo, but when you do the final version there’s people whose entire job is to use that equipment.” 

Staring blankly for a moment, he blinked the lost look from his face. Of course the satanic bishop would know her way around a mixing table, how else would they record their band of demons? he mused, fiddling with the straps of his mask while he gave himself another three seconds to make sense of the life he found himself in. Then, with his body turned to her from across the room and hands clasped behind his back, he asked, “Shall we do it now then, mixing board Bishop?”  

She hesitated then shrugged, only cautioning about said demons before fully committing. “If I can wake up the ghouls this early, I guess we can. You have a big reveal that’s been moved up in your schedule to get ready for later, after all, so time is of the essence.”

———————

By the time the first warm up notes rang out in the cold of the rehearsal space, the sun had risen and the ministry was on its way to breathing into life for the day. The final member of the band of ghouls stumbled into the room not even a quarter of an hour prior- the one ghoul Luca recognized as the one most intent on antagonizing him on their drive across the country, and who was now threatening to call some sort of demonic entity protective services that he was not convinced actually existed, but it made him chuckle regardless. 

The band members with more mobile instruments wandered the room idly avoiding wires and other shit scattered on the floor as they played through a few riffs of familiar songs on their own. Meanwhile, the man hummed a few vocal warm ups and made a final few notes in the margins of his pocket notebook. He was acutely aware of Mabel's presence at the mixing table across the room,  but she was occupied with some task of her own every time his eyes strayed her way. Overall, he felt content. His pen stilled. This place he’d spent only a few hours practicing so far somehow felt like a place he should’ve been all along. With one last glance at Maybel, he cleared his throat, turned to the ghouls and addressed them. Very soon, he hoped, his music would be brought to life in a way he never could’ve imagined.

“Ehm, alright, is everyone ready?” He paused, waiting for their attention. “I have the parts mostly written in here, who wants it first?” He reached to offer the book to the guitarist nearest him who shook his head, then the keyboardist, who briefly eyed it like it was a squirming animal instead of a few bound sheets of paper. 

Mismatched eyes darted around the room and mouth moved to speak, but his baffled mind never quite made the connection. 

“Uh, we’re good.” The rhythm guitarist eventually spoke as he retracted his notes back towards his chest. “Just read it yourself.”

Now he was completely lost. Now standing in the center with eight pairs of eyes on him, he tried to make sense of what he must have been missing. The ghoul- Phantom, he reminded himself, spoke calmly, almost politely, not in the sort of go fuck yourself way one would expect with words like that, and it threw him through a loop. 

“What do you…?” He started.

“Just fuckin do it, man.” Another chimed in. Still watching. Still idly fiddling soft notes on his instrument. 

Again, he blinked blankly, first at the ghouls, then at the only other human in the room, then finally, back at his notes. He turned from the group, flipped to the first page and tried to focus, pretending his current situation wasn’t as strange as it was. Unsure, he did as he was told and the sound he imagined for the intro riff played in his head as he read what he tried to give them.

He made it as far as the end of the first line before he nearly dropped the notebook. 

“What the hell…?” Luca whispered. His head snapped towards the person in the room he was most familiar with: Maybel. She, however, looked unbothered while his jaw fell open and he stood stunned. The guitarist ghoul had just played the exact guitar riff that was in Luca’s head. Except, he had not yet told the ghoul what he wanted played or how- he’d only thought about it in preparation to describe it.

Whispering still, he took two steps closer to where the woman sat at one of the tables in the room behind the piece of equipment he was reading about last night. “Can they-“ he did a double take back at the group of demons begrudgingly assembled bright and early this morning to assist him with instrumentals. “- hear my thoughts?” 

“No, but we can hear your whispering.” Dewdrop butt in. Luca’s head whipped towards the ghoul, but then back to Maybel.  

With a chuckle, Maybel leaned back in her chair, relaxed, and replied. “They have an innate ability to sort of hear what you’re thinking music wise, all of them. It is strongest with whoever summoned them, but they can do it with anyone who is nearby. They cannot hear your thoughts, just music if you’re thinking about it, because they were summoned to be musicians in the band. Other ghouls have other abilities.” 

“What the fuck,” he whispered under his breath, saucer eyed and slack jawed. The future Papa held his stunned look, statue-still for a moment, before he jogged across the small room to the rhythm guitarist that he had been introduced to the other day. Addressing the ghoul with wide-eyed urgency, he asked, “So I just think it, and you can play it?”

“Yep,” came his simple answer, then the ghoul made a circling motion with his hand, communicating, ‘go on, then.’

Perhaps three seconds later, Phantom’s hands moved over the strings of his guitar and the exact sounds Luca was hoping for filled the rehearsal room. His mouth stretched into a wide grin and he could practically hear his blood begin to rush.

He threw his head back and fully laughed, grinning ear to ear and thankfully missing the way Phantom and Dew exchanged a look- Dew had told his band mates how he felt about their new boss’s smile, and now he was finally showing it off first hand, just as they remembered it from the night of their nearly never ending drive.

His thoughts raced and he smiled so hard his cheeks hurt. It felt surreal- it was surreal to anyone not in the know of what actually comprised the band, that such a complete group of talented musicians could just… play the music he’d dreamed up for years. Just like that. In disbelief, he put his face in his hands just for a moment. His dreams were being realized. He would really hear his music complete in a way he never thought he would. And, he would someday be performing it for thousands of people. 

He couldn’t help being caught up in the feeling of hearing what he had been dreaming up in his head finally played out loud. He had become the most animated and alive that anyone had seen him be since he arrived. He clapped his hands twice, giggling in a high-pitched, nasally way that did not at all match his exterior appearance, and the dichotomy brought a chuckle and an amused look from the direction mixing table. Brown eyes shone almost fondly as they watched the masked motorcyclist who appeared to the church wearing the burdens of a hard life, in scuffed up clothes and fine leather jacket after an adrenaline trip gone wrong, who then casually broke into a car, and this morning, the library, looking so light and joyous that she wouldn’t have even been surprised if he started skipping around the room.

Visibly excited and looking every bit like a kid in a candy shop with the budget to buy anything he wanted, he praised the ghouls. “That is fucking cool! Together, please?” Still smiling like a madman, he pointed to both guitarists in turn. When the pair played again, and somehow extended their parts just as Luca was planning them but with more flourish and finesse than he could’ve imagined, Luca pumped his fist in the air. “I do not understand how the hell you’re doing that but my god! Okay, now the rest of you…” 

In turn he went to each of the others with his huge smile never leaving his face, mentally showing them what he wanted in the unbelievable and amazing way he had just learned about, and in only a couple minutes, the song that was in his head was being played out loud perfectly. Glowing, he walked up to the microphone and said into it, looking to Maybel, “I think we’re ready when you are.” 

While Maybel prepared the tape, the singer took his small, pocket sized notebook from his pants pocket once again and flipped to a page where he’d written out lyrics, holding it in front of himself to refer to. 

“Why don’t you run through it first, to practice doing it all at once?” His eyes shot to the woman whose voice abruptly shifted his mind back to the present, catching the tail end of her brushing a lock of tawny hair from her eyes.

Luca nodded to Maybel, then looked over to his band mates, nodding to them as well. They were ready, watching him and waiting with the calm confidence of someone about to play a song they’d mastered years ago, not minutes. As the drummer tapped the edge of his drum to start the group, the man took a deep breath, and focused. While the ghouls might have been cool, even indifferent, he knew he would remember this day for the rest of his life.

The experience of someone who had spent years doing nothing but singing to an audience of people who generally did not really care or pay much attention meant that he was not really nervous now. Just knowing that his singing- his own song to top it off- in this instance was wanted, and not just background noise meant the world to him. And while technically he had sang a few of Ghosts existing songs with the ghouls in the past few days, this was his first time singing with such a group to an audience, even if the audience was only one woman he’d developed an odd affinity for, and he found he desperately hoped it would be well received. 

The corners of his mouth upturned again when the guitars came in with the intro, the feeling of awe overtaking the pressure he was feeling now that he was on the spot. With one last deep breath, he prepared himself, and leaned up to the mic to sing.  

There is something inside me

And they don't know if there is a cure

A demonic possession

Unlike any before

It's a sickening heartache

And it's slowly tormenting my soul

I've invested my prayers

Into making me whole

One leg bobbed, tapping his heel in time, and the longer the music went on, the more he loosened his body, moving with the music. The only interruption during the run through was Luca quickly explaining an effect he wanted during a certain part, but he didn’t stop the band to say it.

On the last line of the song, his eyes fell shut as he simply stood and took in the feeling of singing with a group of talented musicians playing his own work as if they had been doing it for years. If he never got to actually play for an audience, just this itself felt like a dream come true and he was struck with the even stronger desire to dig his fingers in like claws and never let go of the opportunity. 

A silent pause filled the room as the last note rang out, and after a moment, Maybel’s excited voice opened the man’s eyes. “Lucaaa! What the fuck, that was great! ”

With a closed-lipped smile, he laid both his hands over the center of his chest and bowed shallowly. Her praise was just as addictive as her smile.  “Thank you bishop,” he straightened and turned to his band mates “and thank you, ghouls, you are all great and very appreciated.” He made sure to make eye contact with each of them before adding, “Thank you for letting me sing with you.” 

He waited, facing them, for a moment, but none of them replied. His lips tightened, but with his customary single nod, he turned his attention back to Maybel. “Once more, to record then?” He asked, standing with one hip cocked and as naturally as if he’d done this a thousand times.

“Yeah, yeah, let me just set the effect for that one part you asked for.” With an optimistic grin, she glanced up after making some adjustments of the knobs and sliders in front of her. All the doubt that she had when she first met this man had flown out the window. He had the talent, he had a great voice, and she watched him transform from a stoic figure into a showman over the span of about thirty seconds of music. Yes, he had some strange habits, but she would bet her ass he would put on a hell of a show once the time came.  

Speaking of his strange habits, those mismatched eyes were boring into her again. He stood at the mic looking at her more intently than was necessary for a man who was just waiting for a cue to start again. With a final check and adjustment, everything was in place, and she decided to lay the praise on thick to boost his confidence even further before taping what she’d send off to the label. “That was perfect, this is… you were born for this. You’ve somehow managed to make a song that is very Ghost and very catchy on your first try- I know the label is gonna be so happy with this. Really, great job, just do that once more.” 

Her words smoothed over the prick of the ghouls' lack of response like a soothing balm and their slight was instantly forgotten. He made a dismissive motion with both hands- an endearing mannerism that the woman had seen Copia do many times before, one that was eerie to see this man do considering they were strangers to each other.

Her strongly worded praise, on top of the high he was already on from the music, put the man in a rose colored fog, and had his feet moving towards her of their own accord. Before he knew it he was only a foot away, smiling, and reaching out to her. He froze. Extended arms dropped to his sides and he did a poor job of pretending he hadn’t been intending to pull her into a grateful hug. He cleared his throat. “Is this the one that adds distortion?” He quickly asked, diverting from his original path and pointing to a knob while just blurting out anything he could remember from the book he tried to read. 

“Huh? No, that’s this one over here.” She pointed. His approach then abrupt change in demeanor did not fly under her radar. 

The confusing man nodded once and went back to his place at the mic as if nothing had happened, and she waited for a good half a minute to see if he would give any further hints at his intentions of a few moments ago. However, he just stood, waiting, until her curiosity lost the battle to her work ethic and she gave the band a cue and switched on the recorder. The second rendition of his new song was even better and cleaner than the first, and she made sure to add the vocal effect the singer had requested before they closed out the song and she popped the CD that it had just been burned onto out of the machine to send off. “Alrighty, all set, thank you ghouls,” she said dismissively, and received a chorus of replies or thumbs up.  

“You bet!”  

“No problem, Mayb!”  

“You owe me a coffee, at least.”

“Ghouls, you’re done for now, and Papa, we need to go beg the tailor to put any finishing touches on your papal attire. For tonight. See you later everyone!” She pointed to the only other non-infernal creature in the room with her. “You, come with me.” 

 

Chapter 8

A thick, heavy silence broken only by the sound of a towering grandfather clock ticking away the moments set an atmosphere of finality. The man who was mere minutes away from officially taking on the mantle of Papa V Perpetua was seated, alone, on a suede covered bench in the sacristy attached to the main cathedral hall of the ministry. He looked very small under the ancient, vaulted, stone ceilings; hunched over where he sat with each hand clasped  on the bench on either side of his legs so firmly that if it were made of anything weaker than chiseled hardwood, it might’ve splintered. The heir to the papacy had yet to don his most regal vestments, wearing only black trousers, a black silk button down, his mask, and the foreign feeling of new papal makeup someone he had never met before had helped him paint onto his face below the mask a little while ago, doing him up and sending him off like a prized show horse. Mismatched eyes stared at the ground, lost in thought and the crushing weight of the title he prepared himself to accept; a title that was becoming very real. 

 

When he had entered the room, he took the opportunity to utilize some knowledge from his readings, before he sat down, as he had filled a censer with frankincense- which was supposed to help with reducing stress as well as aid in spiritual practices, and now the smell of it had spread to fill the room. He closed his eyes, breathing it in and taking time to simply exist in the quiet before the coming storm. Despite knowing he would be gradually weaned onto the full expectations of this role, he also knew there were millions of people around the world who were waiting for his reveal and waiting to see if he would fill the shoes of his brother who he still had yet to meet. The pressure and enormity made him fully understand why the room of his catholic counterparts’ had become known as the room of tears. He knew this was coming since he was first asked to come, but didn’t expect it would be so soon.

 

He remained silent, lost in his own thoughts and frozen as if Medusa herself had turned him into stone where he sat on the bench for some time, and he had become so used to the serene silence that when a familiar, bright voice called from the doorway, he nearly jumped out of his skin. “There you are!” 

 

His head snapped to the source of the voice to find Maybel, who was once again scarcely recognizable. First, he met her in an oversized t-shirt and messy bun, then, he’d become used to seeing her in a habit, but usually forgoing the veil. Now, she appeared very different once more in the doorway,  wearing a black cassock, complete with a purple-accented black biretta and hair tied in a slicked back bun. It was the first time she looked the part of a bishop. Her eyes danced across his face for a second before she spoke again. “I went looking for you at the costumer’s place, I thought you’d still be working on designing your papal paint, or at the very least still applying it, but you’re quick! I must say, you came up with a neat design. Looks cool, dude.” 

 

The fingertip of his middle finger slowly traced along his face from near his ear to his lips, feeling the pigment that covered his skin, and he looked back at the stone floor between his feet. The only sign he heard her was a quick glance in her direction, a slight uptick in the corner of his decorated lips, and a minute nod.

 

Low heels clacked on the stone as she crossed the room and sat down beside the man. She switched into business mode. One look at him and it was clear he needed to lose the stretched rubber band tension he carried and get his mind in the right place to make his first appearance a success- it would set the tone for at least the next few months until he could prove himself otherwise. Rather than letting him linger on whatever he was thinking about, she attempted to put his mind to work. “Do you have the notes we went over?” 

 

He pointed to a black folder complete with a gold leaf grucifix overlay with a black gloved hand, which laid open on a side table nearby. Tucked into the pockets were a few pieces of notebook paper, which she recognized by the handwritten headings as the speaking points and reminders they had come up with together earlier, after recording. “Good, perfect. Are you ready to get dressed?” 

 

An audible breath of frankincense air was sucked through his nose, he held it, savored it, and slowly let it out. With a single nod, he stood. The papal regalia had been hanging up on a velvet lined hanger on a wall nearby, mocking him and his inexperience for the past half hour. The opulent outfit was fit for a king, but not for a wanderer who had nothing to his name but a broken motorcycle that was not legally his and a gifted leather jacket. His own boot’s heels clicked in an even, slow beat reminding the woman of a man walking to the gallows. He walked up to the thing and just stopped, running his eyes over all the filigree, embroidery, and jeweled details he didn’t feel quite worthy to even touch. It was beautiful; perfect, even, a stark contrast to his view of himself. 

 

Maybel’s honey eyes watched his back as he stood, unmoving admiring the work of art of a garment, and she allowed it for a time. This was an important moment in his life, after all, but he couldn’t stay stuck in that place forever. Unphased by the bejeweled splendor of the fabric, she quickly came up beside the future Papa and took the hanger off the wall. Carefully, she picked out each sparkling piece, handing them to him in turn, rolled or bunched in such ways he could easily slip them over his head. With an air of resignation, he put them on wordlessly.

 

Before her eyes, the man so much like Papa IV, yet so different, transformed undeniably into Papa V with each piece that adorned his body. At last, she retrieved the matching mitre, and motioned for him to lower his head so that she could place it atop his crown. “It is a great pleasure to meet you, your dark excellency,” She breathed, just above a whisper, as if a normal speaking voice breaking through the meaningful quiet in the air might cause the walls to crumble. Further mimicking the man’s overly respectful greeting to her on the night of his arrival, she reached for one of the hands hanging at his sides, lifted it, and kissed his knuckle. 

 

His breathing quickened, and his painted lips turned inwards while his hand lingered in the air in front of him after she released it. 

 

“There is a mirror over there, you should look at yourself. A dazzling vision of a spiritual leader, if I do say so myself.” She encouraged, pointed to said mirror, and watched as he strode slowly across the room like he was trying to move underwater. The grandfather clock ticked for several seconds while he stared at himself in the glass before his mentor approached with the top sheet of notes from the folder in her hands. She held it in front of him for him to take and review. With a slight delay, she saw his eyes in the mirror shift from straight ahead to the paper, and both of his hands came up to take it, only, once it was in his grip, the paper began to tremble like a leaf betraying the hands that held it. 

 

The bishop frowned. Obviously, she knew it would be a monumental moment, of course it would affect the man, but she did not expect that it would affect him this much. Up until now, he had always been royally unbothered by everything but the librarian discovering him this morning. Even then, she didn’t expect that he would be so affected now that had yet to mutter a single word, and certainly not so much that the poor thing would be standing here trembling despite being about to become one of the most powerful people in the ministry and securing his place here for eternity. She side-stepped into the narrow space between him and the mirror, then placed her steadying hands over his, finding them cold despite the gloves he wore. “Are you alright?” 

 

His eyes shifted from the paper in his hands to her face, and he nodded once. 

 

“Are you sure?” Her eyes narrowed skeptically. Taking on this mantle was not to be done on a whim. If he wasn’t fully on board, this would not work out.  “In just a few minutes you will be introduced and known as Papa V Perpetua- they will expect you to at least say a few words as well as complete your vows. It would be best if you were not shaking when you did so.” 

 

“Perpetua…” He muttered, voice low and solemn. “Is this… forever?” He asked, with his eyes on her warm hands covering the backs of his own. 

 

“Well, no Papa has ever stopped being Papa, truly, until his death. They have been retired, but they were still Papa. Well, except your brother, since he was the first and only one to get promoted. You’ll be called Perpetua because there are no other, uh, heirs, I guess. You’re the last of the bloodline and there is nobody who could replace you under the current traditional rules. So, I would say yes. You’ll be Papa V Perpetua until you die, and still after you will be remembered as Papa.” She looked up, thinking. 

 

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his eyes closed for a moment, but he did not pull away from her touch or try to make a motion to leave. 

 

She did not know how to interpret this response. “Are you… opposed? You did agree to come here, you know.” 

 

He nodded, intending to agree with the fact he came to the church voluntarily, after being told this would be the outcome; to say that he had no desire to leave this place that treated him better than anyone had in years and where he experienced one of the greatest joys he had felt in his life just this morning with the others in the rehearsal room- it was just that forever was a long time. And he didn’t know if he could live up to the expectations. However, Maybel did not interpret his nod that way. 

 

Her hands dropped from his and went to her hips. She bit her bottom lip, mind spinning at the shit storm she feared was about to kick off. With a scowl, she spoke her mind. “Well, I would have hoped you would’ve maybe mentioned that before all of this, but you cannot really be forced into it, however, if you are not willing to take on this responsibility I’m afraid the ministry will have to ask you to fuck off to wherever you would rather be right away.” 

 

Luca’s eyes snapped open, wide. He shook his head briefly, then brought one hand up to steady his mitre as he was unaccustomed to its weight shifting at the motion of his head. “No, no, I…” He took another deep breath. “I want to stay. I…” 

 

The bishop’s indignant posture relaxed into a more natural one, and her scowl softened. If she was sitting, she would have been at the edge of her seat awaiting his next words, perhaps even leaning forward in anticipation. 

 

His voice still came softly, yet slowly and haltingly but with more words than she had possibly ever heard him say at once. “I feel like a child wearing his father’s suit. Just playing at some big important job.” One hand waved in the air at his waist-level, emphasizing his words and causing the glittering jewels that covered him to rattle against each other.  “Hell, I spent my whole life up until my mid twenties working at being a catholic clergyman, but I only made it to priesthood. I have not even been here twenty days.” He looked past her, at his reflection in the mirror again. “This is- I am so unqualified, I do not deserve this, I do not know if I can fill my brother’s shoes, I- I had hoped he might meet me before I…” he flicked his hand in the direction of himself. “Perhaps give some words of advice, or just tell me what to do from someone who has done this before, but I have not even that. I am an imposter, and I am not what everyone will think I am, what they will expect me to be. I think I am cursed, I am not the perfect man that a pope should be.”

 

Maybe’s lips pursed with a sympathetic frown, and her eyes softened. She shook her head slowly and reached out for his hands again. “Oh, Lukie, no. You are more qualified than you think. You are well on your way to learning everything you need to know and more- and I have confidence that you will do wonderfully in the performance and music aspect of your job.” She took the initiative to sandwich one of his hand between hers when he made no move to take her proffered palms. He allowed her to manipulate his limb with no resistance. “Maybe I should confess something to you. The label never said anything to us about a deadline. I made it up to get back at you for being grumpy to me the other day, and I made up a deadline I was almost certain was impossible just to make you squirm, and for that I apologize.” 

 

She waited to see how he would react to this, but his expression and posture remained unchanged. His eyes simply stayed burning into hers in that intense way of his. “But you somehow managed, and even fucking kicked ass with the song you made.” 

 

His head tilted, but his expression betrayed none of his feelings about her admission. 

 

“And, I fully expected it to take you a few weeks at the minimum to finish all those books of rituals and spells and magick and demonology and all that, but you have burned through them unbelievably quickly. That, plus your existing liturgical knowledge from your past has you way ahead of where you think you are. Just remember, you only have to get through this introduction and your vows, tonight. You do not have to lead the entire mass. Then, your job will focus on the band and performing for the next several months at least. You have time to catch up with anything else we may have missed on the church leadership side, okay?” 

 

He swallowed and rolled his lips inwards again, before letting them return to their usual position and giving a small nod. Just when enough time had passed that she thought he would not have any verbal reply, he said simply, “Lukie?”

 

She let out a brief half chuckle. That is what he got out of my monologue? “Heh, yeah, sorry, I don’t mean to belittle you with the nickname or anything. If you dislike it I won’t call you that again, I swear. Did it bother you?” 

 

His mouth twisted into a small, closed lipped smile and the corners of his eyes crinkled beneath the shadows of the mask. He angled his head down but raised his eyes to look at her from beneath dark lashes. “No.” 

 

With that, the woman patted his hand and stepped away. “You okay now?” 

 

“Better than I was.” It was true- he was no longer trembling.

 

“And you are absolutely certain you want to follow through? After everything you’ve learned about our church, you feel a calling in your heart to do this? A fundamental agreement with our values and ideologies? I understand they are quite different than what you have grown up with.” 

 

His eyes shifted. “…Yes. I- the- what I have learned has all felt validating, if you will, to me. Natural, almost like someone has created a religion from the ideals I have lived with since my childhood. Ones that made me question and eventually probably caused my… falling out, with the Catholic Church.”

 

Ah, so the parting he refused to elaborate on was not on good terms. Maybel thought. “Well, being a part of this church is in your blood, so that makes sense.” 

 

He nodded. And finally pried himself away from the mirror. Wistfully, he commented, “I hope to find belonging here, after all this time blowing in the wind.”

 

“You do belong here, I can assure you of that.” 

 

A, small weary smile formed on his face, accentuated by his new papal paints. He did not reply to it though, in favor of pacing the floor, attention finally back on his notes. 

 

Good, he’s thinking again, not having a mental crisis, Maybel thought with a feeling of success. “Run through your notes once more, then I will go place them on the pulpit, so they are there before you come out.” She checked the time on the grandfather clock. “Most of the congregation has probably made it in by now. If I go put the folder there early you don’t have to step out there looking like a middle schooler about to do a presentation.” 

 

He stopped his pacing and handed her the paper she had given him a moment ago. He was reading it, now, but only going through the motion of running his eyes across the page, not actually comprehending anything, so it was pointless. 

 

She put the sheet back in the folder, and as she said, slipped through the door to the main cathedral to place it for him with a promise to be right back. When she crossed the front of the room, she took the time to take inventory of the place. Copia, in his new black suit, was chatting near the pulpit with one of the cardinals, and Cumulus stood beside them both. The pews were pretty full, candles and incense were lit. Everything looked ready. She set down the folder and scurried up to her old friend. “Hey, Frater,” she greeted, making sure to use his proper title in this formal setting. 

 

The man turned to her with a raised eyebrow, suddenly sobering from what had looked like a friendly conversation. He of course knew what was to happen tonight, she had discussed it with him as soon as she had a moment to find him after the library incident. While he agreed that the new Papa needed to be introduced tonight, and agreed to do the honors, as would be expected for the Imperator role, the man was not thrilled by the idea. “Bishop.” 

 

“He’s ready, if you are.” 

 

He frowned, but replied with characteristic joviality that did not really match the words he said. “As ready as I’ll ever be to put the final nail in my coffin. I hope they will at least immortalize me with an elaborate stained glass. Put that in my will, would ya?” 

 

Maybel chuckled. “Glad to hear you haven’t lost your flair for the dramatic, Frater. He’s here to work, to sing, and shake his ass on stage, not to poison your wine, so you can order that stained glass yourself. Feel free to start the mass whenever, just wave or something when you’re ready for me to send your brother out. He’s ready.”

 

He nodded repeatedly, but his eyes were looking past her, somewhere over her head. “I’ll do a little lead up, you’ll hear it, you’ll hear it, but it will be at the end, and I’m not going to stick around.” 

 

“He’s going to want to talk to you, he’s been asking since day one,” 

 

“And I’ve been saying since day one I don’t want to talk to my usurper.” 

 

“Usurper!? Don’t be ridiculous Copia, come on-“ 

 

He didn’t let her finish. Much to her annoyance, the man put his stubbornness on display and walked up to the pulpit, starting to speak the beginnings of his mass before half her sentence was out of her mouth and before she had a chance to retreat to the sacristy. Grumbling under her breath, she took long strides away, as fast as her cassock would allow. As much as she loved her old friend, sometimes she wanted to wring his neck. 

 

The first thing she saw as she came back into the sacristy was Luca, glittering as he shifted back and forth and stared out the doorway at Copia. His eyes were locked onto the other man- it was a wonder a hold hadn’t burned into the fine black suit yet. As the bishop got nearer, her mentee tore his eyes from their previous position to look at her instead. He pointed at his brother. His mouth worked like he was struggling to come up with something to say, but he didn’t need to. 

 

Maybel nodded, and now back in the quiet of the room of unholy relics, softly explained, “Yeah, that’s him.” 

 

Finally gaining control of his vocal cords, he whispered, unwilling to cover the sound of his brother speaking, and expertly delivering the nights sermon, “he sounds just like I do!” 

 

“Yeah, it freaks me out sometimes, especially when I first met you.” She agreed with a nod.

 

He looked past her again. “But I look nothing like him.” 

 

She looked between the brothers, but settled on the one closer to her. “I think you look very alike, actually, except the face. He used to look more like you, but he had plastic surgery a few years ago. Changed his face a lot. He’s a great guy, as I have said before, we are good friends- but he is vain as hell.”

 

Luca nodded once while continuing to stare at his brother. He did not invite any further conversation, now, instead watching the goings on through the propped open door in front of him, and paying close attention to the first blood relative of his that he had ever seen, as if he could make up for decades apart by just looking at him hard enough. He remained so until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw two shiny, silver and jeweled gauntlets in Maybel’s hands. 

 

“Put your hands out.” When he obliged, she worked the metal onto his hands as quickly as she could. “I don’t know how much listening you’ve been doing, but he is wrapping up. He told me he would announce you at the end, it’s almost time. When he tells you to approach, you are expected to bow. Be careful of your hat.” She instructed, back in business mode. 

 

She had barely gotten the elaborate things onto his hands when they both heard the queue for the ministry’s newest Papa to walk out, and now, his heart was racing. If he was to wear any armor-like metal, a chest piece may have been more fitting. At least that would ensure his heart did not beat right out of his chest. 

 

From the moment that he could be seen by the congregation, it was like Luca flipped a switch. Gone was the whispering, trembling man from a while ago, and in his place stood someone who immediately drew every eye in the room, and wore their gazes like trophies. With the confidence of a king, he strode up to stop beside his brother at the pulpit. Their eyes met. The newcomer tried to smile and reach out a hand to shake, but the veteran’s gaze only turned colder and made no move to return the gesture. Then, everything started happening so quickly that Luca’s head spun and he felt taken by the momentum of it and unable to do anything but let himself be carried. 

 

Copia did not hesitate or spend time on familial social niceties, treating his brother professionally, but like any old acquaintance he wasn’t too fond of. He turned away from the man who shared a womb with him and spoke to the congregation. “Brothers and sisters and all who are here with us, please be silent for the blessing of your new Papa.” Then, he looked back to his brother. “Come forward.”

 

Luca swallowed, took a measured breath through his nose, then took a step closer to his brother. Recalling Maybel’s instructions, he bowed, bending at one knee to lower himself further without causing his mitre to fall. His brother's hands raised to hover above him, and he spoke words of Latin. 

 

“Dies irae, dies illa, solvet spectrum in favilla.

Teste Satan con Sybilla

Quantos tetres este futeres

Quando ventas retto verteres

Dominus, dies irea, dies illa.”

 

Copia continued with the next part of the new Papa’s induction, wasting no time and not allowing an extra second for an exchange of words with his brother. Commandingly, he continued the process.“Rise, and repeat after me.” 

 

Luca straightened, locking eyes with the pair that looked exactly like his own once more, and he clearly and confidently repeated everything he was told to, feeling like he was in a trance. 

 

Suddenly it was over, and for the first time, Copia touched his brother. Feeling the solid being beneath his hand nearly knocked the breath out of him, like a punch to the gut of the reality that this was a real living man before him- he really did have a twin.  However, he did not have the capacity to mentally deal with it at the moment, and instead pushed the back of his brother's shoulder to turn him to face the congregation. “Here I present Papa V Perpetua.” 

 

Copia wasted no time in skeddadling, grabbing the stack of papers from the pulpit as he usually did as he made his way out. He felt a fleeting touch of metal clad fingers by his elbow, as his brother tried to stop him, but he didn’t quite catch, and Copia was out the door within seconds. The new Papa was left hanging to close out the night himself. 

 

He knew all eyes were upon him, and he let a purposeful silence fill the air. The pressure of first impression was on, and he couldn’t let any cracks show. Slowly, he stepped behind the pulpit, planning to check the notes Maybel put over here for him, only to find there was nothing there at all. He turned his head towards the sacristy, to where the woman was watching from. She just smiled, nodded and gave two thumbs up, oblivious to his predicament. He cursed internally.

 

Holding a steady countenance, he looked out at the people lined up in the pews and let his eyes zig zag across them while he tried to claw something to say from his throat. He drew the microphone attached to the podium closer to himself and spoke into it with his continued performance of confidence. “Good evening to each and every one of you. Being here today is a great honor. Rest assured I will do everything in my power to uphold the standards of the ministry and take it to further heights. I look forward to getting to know each other. Tonight- celebrate new beginnings and revel.” He looked across the congregation once more, taking his time to make eye contact with many siblings as his gaze crossed them. At last, he added, “Nema,” and the gathered faithful burst into applause. 

Chapter 9

Summary:

Hi everyone :3 As always thanks for reading and for your kudos and reviews! They always make my day :)

“I’m going to go buy a saxophone!” Phantom said excitedly waving his paycheck around from where he was perched on the edge of Copia’s desk, in his new office. The office had many more bodies in it than usual- the whole band sans its new front man were present, as well as a certain Bishop Madison. 

 

Without looking up from his task of writing out the next ghoul’s check, Copia chuckled, “Please don’t, for fucks sake, not another saxophone. Anything but that.” This was the atmosphere he was used to, and as a result, he was in high spirits. 

 

“What are you even going to do with one?” Maybel asked, reaching out to jab the ghoul playfully in the ribs. 

 

“Play Careless Whisper on the bus. Set a romantic mood for all the dates I’m going to bring back,” he replied, equally playfully. 

 

Arms crossed, sitting on the ground with his back against a bookshelf, Dew shot him down. “Yeah, cause you had so many last tour. How many was it?” He held up a hand as if he was going to count on his fingers, but he never raised any fingers. “Zero?” 

 

His teasing earned a round of laughter from everyone, including the jab’s recipient, who quickly offered up another possibility. “Okay, then I’ll be a wingman and set the mood for anyone else. It’s community service.” 

 

“Just don’t fuckin’ play that shit around me, your ass is a guitarist not a wind instrumentalist, you’re going to sound like a dying donkey.” Copia got up from his chair to hand checks to a couple of the others, then returned to his desk to write out Maybel’s. At least this aspect of being Frater Imperator was familiar- after years as the ministries treasurer he had plenty of practice with payroll. 

 

Phantom grinned, then leaned over to poke Copia’s forehead. “You won’t have to worry about my donkey impressions since you’re gonna be stuck here.” 

 

At this, Copia looked up at the ghoul and glared. “On second thought, please do get a saxophone. And a slide whistle. And one of those greeting cards that plays the songs but makes sure to break it so it never stops playing. Fuck, I forgot I gotta add that asshole to the payroll. Where the hell is he anyway? Doesn’t he want his check?”  

 

“He probably doesn’t know to come get it or when we get paid.” Rain chimed in, a voice of reason as he often was. “Mayb, are you working with him today? If you are you should tell him, I guess.” 

 

“No, I told him to take the day off. He’s been busy since he got here and he’s actually ahead of what I expected.” 

 

“Don’t make excuses for him, he has to be able to pick up where we left off, and who knows what he will do if you leave him loose here unattended. We don’t know the guy. We can’t trust him.” Copia said while he checked numbers on his computer’s screen, then set his pen to one more check. 

 

“Why, is he actually a creep or something? I mean, his smile is creepy, but I don’t really know him.” Cirrus asked from where she sat on a lamp table. 

 

“I don’t know if he’s a creep, but he is probably a criminal.” He replied casually, punctuating the end of his sentence with a flourished signature on the check and putting his pen down. 

 

Maybel made a disbelieving sound and threw her hands up in front of her, with palms towards the man. “Okay, I’m gonna stop you there, now you’re just making shit up to suit your grudge.”

 

He clicked his tongue, and every ghoul in the room watched the exchange like it was a juicy soap opera. “That’s where you’re wrong. Just hold onto your ass for a second.” His hands went to his keyboard and he typed something, then clicked the mouse a few times, then turned the screen around. “Exhibit A: breaking into a car not even five minutes after he got here.”  He hit play, and security camera footage rolled on the screen clearly showing a figure in the dark with a shining mask pop open a truck’s hood and disable the alarm before picking the lock and climbing into the driver’s seat. 

 

Several ghouls erupted into ‘ooohs’ and the farthest ones got up to move closer to take a better look. 

 

Rain clapped his hands together then pointed at the screen. “So that’s why the car wouldn’t start when I tried to return it!” 

 

Copia changed to another video. “Exhibit B: breaking into the library.” This one showed a figure covered in a blanket, but again with his unmistakable shining mask picking the lock, although this time it took him a little longer. The video ended as he entered the door. 

 

Maybel sighed. “He went in there to read, Copia, that is not a crime.” 

 

“Nobody was there, though, who knows what he did, he could’ve taken some old book nobody noticed is missing yet, or damaged something cause he doesn’t have a clue what a lot of the magic shit in those books does. And, breaking and entering is a crime.” 

 

The fire ghoul chimed in with agreement, and all ears were on him. “Copia’s right, though, we don’t know what he’s done, and he won’t fucking talk either to tell us. Getting any information from him is harder than biting through hot brimstone. And remember he almost slit my fucking neck when we first found him? He was so quick about pulling out his knife. That can’t have been his first time.” 

 

“Holy shit, Dew, he almost killed you?!” Copia’s eyes were wide with concern. 

 

Dew shrugged. “Well, he pinned me down and held the blade right here,” he illustrated the weapon’s position with one hand, “then Rain pulled him off. But if he hadn’t? Who knows.” 

 

“You said you slashed his tire and almost made him eat shit and crash!” The bishop tried to counter. “He really doesn’t seem like a bad guy, he's a little unusual in his manner, I guess, but he seems nice. Just quiet. And, he’s been busting his ass since he got here, just yesterday did a fucking four hour photo shoot and then he played me a good chunks of four more songs for the next album, he just needs you ghouls to put it all together. Can you believe he’s done like five songs already with the single we sent off the other day? Give him a break.” 

 

“Oh! Oh! You know what else, C? He told us himself that he ran from the cops before, and he might be wanted.” Dew added, ignoring what Maybel had just said. 

 

She sighed. “Yeah, he was probably just speeding, so what?” 

 

Copia’s wide eyes flicked back and forth between Maybel and Dew for a second while he tried to close his gaping mouth. “Why are you riding this guys’s dick so hard Mayb? Does studying excuse attempted murder? Fuck that. I can’t let my guard down, brother or not, because the safety of the congregation is my responsibility. We just don’t know him that well. Not even you know him as well as you think you do. It’s not possible.”

 

“For one, I’m not riding his dick, nor do I have any plans to. I’m just doing my job, the job your mother asked me specifically to do because she wanted your brother to be successful, like you should wish for. Making his life as difficult as possible makes my job harder too. And secondly, a threat in self defense is not attempted murder. He didn’t actually do any harm in any of these incidents you’ve listed.” Fed up with the slander that nobody in the room seemed open to listening to her counter, she stood up and grabbed the last check off of Copia’s desk. “You know what, I’m out of here. None of you are listening, you can keep your hate party going without me. I’m going to go deliver this to the scary dangerous creep.” She huffed, air quoting her last few words, then stormed out. 

 

—————-

 

As she told the others, she marched out of Copia’s office and straight to Luca’s door. Her mood lightened immediately now that she was here, because from inside the room, faint music could be heard, as well as the man inside singing along in a high pitched falsetto that was goofy, but admittedly not a bad imitation of the woman singing. She put her ear to the wood of his door to listen better before her knocking would surely interrupt him. 

 

As soon as she could make out the song, she had to cover her mouth to stop herself from giggling. She wished Copia was here right now, just to see that his apparent opponent was not so sinister as she listened to him sing for a few seconds.

 

Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band

And make the fireflies dance

Silver moon's sparkling

So kiss me

 

Shaking her head with continued amusement, she raised her hand that wasn’t holding his first paycheck, and knocked firmly so he would hear her over his music. “Luca! Its Maybel.” 

 

Sure enough, the singing stopped, and a couple seconds later, the door opened. As soon as the man inside was revealed, she was taken aback. The same song was still playing loudly in the background, a little staticky on the old boombox he must’ve found in a closet or something, and Luca was at the door with a black, fitted turtleneck sweater, black joggers, and his fingers threaded in the handle of a pair of scissors held in the air about shoulder height. Further inspection explained the reason for the scissors; His hair was loose, hanging down over his shoulders, but at least a third of it was missing as it had been cut to a much shorter length just below his chin. 

 

The new Papa smiled widely when he saw the woman at his door, but he did not offer any explanation as to his unusual state, and simply waved her in with the scissors. “Hello.”  

 

Thrown through a loop by his slightly unhinged appearance in conjunction with the light, romantic music, the best she could do was a lighthearted, “Hey, careful with those.” 

 

He nodded. “They’re very sharp. Very good.” He said, but did not lower them, only stopped waving them.

 

“Riiight.” She stepped past him, but kept her eyes on his partially complete DIY haircut, which was more like a hair slaughter, and hoped her thoughts on his work were not too obvious in her expression. This man was no hairdresser, that was for sure. The cut was not even, had no shape to it, and it looked like he had just started chopping off the length like someone who had a bad breakup and decided during an emotional breakdown to drastically change their appearance without thinking it through. 

 

Evidently, her efforts to conceal her opinion must’ve failed, though, because his happy expression quickly dropped and he covered his mouth with his hand. An uncomfortable silence filled his room, and they each just looked at the other, waiting and unsure how to proceed. She tried to break the ice. “So, you are cutting your hair? But it’s so nice, though.” 

 

His hand moved from his mouth to the longer parts that were still left, and he threaded his fingers through its length from the strap of his mask to the ends. Mismatched eyes bored into hers, and he looked apprehensive. “Is it bad short?”

 

Unable to admit she liked his hair long, she quickly denied it and spouted off an excuse. “No, no! I meant it as more like, uh, I’m jealous of it. My hair is thin and straight and mousy, not thick and voluminous like yours.” 

 

“Oh.” He seemed to believe her, and padded off on socked feet to the bathroom, where he must’ve been using the mirror. However, he did not shut the door, and a few seconds later, came back out holding out towards her the loose strands he had already cut in one hand, and the scissors still in the other. He walked up to where she had stayed standing just inside the door once more. “Do you want it?” 

 

Now even more taken aback, all she could do was look at the cut hair he held with confusion and maybe a hint of shock. “What?” 

 

Unbothered, he explained further. “You said you were jealous of my hair. I would give it to you, if you want. And the rest too, in a minute.” 

 

“Huh? You’re giving me your hair?” 

 

He nodded once, and held steady eye contact with a neutral expression. He was dead serious.

 

Maybel didn’t know what to say in response to this strange offer, and it took her some time to come up with something to say. Especially when the man would not look away from her. “That’s very generous of you, but no, thank you. It would probably be very expensive to have it made into something useable for me, you know, so uh, yeah. Thanks for the offer though.” 

 

For a moment, she worried she offended him, but with a slight delay, he shrugged and said, “okay, suit yourself,” before striding back off to the bathroom as the song changed on the radio, now playing the old 90’s anthem, She’s So High. If she had ever had to guess what music Luca would prefer to listen to, she would never have picked this station as one to play shit he was into. But then again, this man did nothing but surprise her, and she let out a silent snort of amusement.

 

Since he left the bathroom door open, and let her into his room, she figured he must not mind her being there and took the initiative to follow him to the small bathroom. The ‘very sharp’ scissors were already back at work, easily cutting the strands of hair he held between his fingers at a length close to what was already cut. Momentarily, he looked at her in the mirror before looking back to his task. 

 

“Were you singing before I came in?” Maybel asked with a small smile. 

 

The scissors stopped moving and he looked her way in the reflection. If half his face wasn’t obscured by the mask or shadowed by shape of it from the bright fluorescent lights, she would guess she’d see his eyebrows were raised. His lips pursed pensively. “You could hear me?” 

 

“If I listened closely.” 

 

He made another snip of the scissors. “Sorry, I have a habit of singing or otherwise making noise when I am in a good mood.” 

 

“Don’t stop on my account.” 

 

Once more, he paused his work. His head tilted as he paid attention to the song for the first time in a few minutes. After judging it for a moment, he said, “Hm. I don’t think you want to hear me sing this one.”

 

“Hey, now, don’t put words in my mouth, you’re a good singer.” She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe.

 

He turned around from the mirror to face her with an incredulous look, but cleared his throat. He frowned, but the parts of his expression she could see very clearly said, ‘you asked for this,’ and he joined in, dramatically exaggerating his facial expression, letting his voice scoop irritatingly and purposefully made it overly nasal as he went to the high note.

 

“What could a guy like me ever really offer?

She's perfect as she can be, why should I even bother?” 

'Cause she's so high

High above me, she's so lovely

She's so high,” 

 

He cut off early, with a small grin, and his eyes darted upwards and his mouth tightened for a second as he tried to recall the words, but they came to him momentarily. He pointed a finger upwards as if to say, ‘aha!’ as he rejoined. 

 

“Like Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, or Aphrodite,” he managed, before he turned back to the mirror. “Alright, that’s enough.” He waved dismissively with his scissor free hand, and made to resume his hair cutting while Maybel just laughed. 

 

“Well, thank you for the wonderful performance. Anyway, so, the reason I came here is to give you your paycheck.” 

 

Luca turned around again. “I’m getting paid?”

 

Maybel’s hands went to her waist. “Of course you are, you don’t have to work for free.”

 

Disbelieving, he questioned further. “But I’m getting free housing and meals and clothes, I’m getting money on top of that?” 

 

“Yeah, yeah, here.” She held the check out, which he took and  inspected. 

 

“Holy shit. Really? This is for me?” He asked, looking at the check in his hand as if it were a block of solid diamond.

 

She nodded. “Yes, don’t act so shocked, you’re literally the highest ranking position possible here besides Imperator so of course your check is not skimpy.” 

 

Finally, he looked up. “Can I fix my bike?” 

 

“You don’t have to ask, it’s your money and your bike, do whatever you want with it.” 

 

With a toothy smile shining anew on his face and seemingly having forgotten about his half finished hair cut, he tried to step around her to exit the bathroom, a new mission on his mind. She grabbed his arm and he wheeled around to face her, eyes stuck on the point of contact. 

 

She let go. “Your hair?”

 

“Oh.” 

 

With a small laugh, she held out one hand. Every now and again, this man did something just like his brother would do, and this was another example. Apparently, Copia’s sometimes changeable attention span was genetic. The new Papa was so eager to go off and play with his man toy, she figured maybe she could do him a favor and help him get on his way. “Give me the scissors, I’ll finish it for you.” 

 

He stilled, thinking a moment, but soon wordlessly obeyed, passing the scissors to her, closed, and with the handle facing her. His lips curled inwards as he turned his back to her allowing better access to his dark curls. 

 

The bishop reached up and carded her fingers through the part of his hair he had already cut, getting a feel for the length he apparently wanted and the way it laid, but she couldn’t deny taking a little longer than necessary when she discovered just how soft and pleasing to touch it was. Her goal was to even it out and make it look at least a little less like it had been bluntly cut with a pocket knife, but she found it did not sit flat enough to do anything precisely with the mask strap bending it against his head- and thus, she could not confidently judge where to cut. 

 

She looked to him in the mirror again, since he was facing the reflective surface once more, but found that his eyes were closed softly. The corners of his mouth were even turned upwards just the slightest bit. He looked so serene that if he was not standing upright, he would have looked peacefully asleep. Maybel bit her lip. The man was obviously enjoying this, and she was loathe to burst his bubble, so she continued to let her fingers slide through the free part of his hair in the hopes of excusing her request for something she didn’t expect him to like. “Your mask straps are in the way, they’re bending your hair, can you take it off for a minute so it sits flat?” 

 

Unsurprisingly, Luca stiffened, and his piercing eyes opened again, meeting hers in the mirror, serene look gone with no trace it was ever there. Just like when she asked about his history as a priest, when he spoke he sounded cold, blunt and unwilling to budge. “No. I won’t. Don’t ask again.” 

 

Her hands raised in a gesture of innocence. “…Okay, can you just like, move the straps then? I just want to even it out for you, it’s a bit… jagged, where you have cut. I’m not trying to sneak a look at you, if that’s what you’re worried about, or ruin your mysterious aesthetic or whatever you think I’m trying to do that has got you all up in arms. Just trying to help.” 

 

The man’s eyes stayed trained on her in the reflection for several seconds, and she got the feeling, as she often did when he looked at her, that he could see right through her. Her free hand came up to rest on one of his shoulders in what she hoped was a reassuring way. After a moment, his shoulders lost some of their tension. His shoulder rose and fell beneath her hand as he slowly took in a deep breath and released it. Hesitantly, without peeling his gaze from her, he brought one resigned hand to the front of his mask, pressing it against his face on either side of his nose, and the other hand unclipped one side of the mask’s straps, allowing them to fall out of the way. 

 

The gesture felt like a sign of trust that Maybel did not take lightly. “Thank you.” She began to comb through his hair once more with her fingers, quickly evaluating it again now that it fell naturally, and she set to work, but with the same caution one would use when handling a wild animal who might startle or bite with one wrong move. She didn’t want him to have to hold his mask against himself for too long, so made quick work of the task at hand, no longer allowing herself to make any unnecessary strokes and alternating between sliding her finger down a section, holding it steady, and cutting across to match the neighboring strands as she worked her way around his head. 

 

She methodically checked and trimmed the length in sections, but gradually, Luca’s head tilted back slowly into her touch as if she was being more than businesslike anyway, and his eyes fluttered shut. The action did not slip by her notice. But, she couldn’t decide if his reaction to her work reminded her more of a dog getting a good scratch behind the ear, or a man who was receiving a decidedly more forward and suggestive touch than what she was actually doing. She almost felt like she was doing something she should not be doing in a relationship she was keeping professional. But, she told herself, she couldn’t just let the new Papa run around the ministry looking completely ridiculous. He was her responsibility for the time being after all. 

 

Less than five minutes later, the woman lowered the scissors and fluffed his loose hair a couple of times, admiring her work. Proudly, she smiled. Anyone could see his curls were much more neatly trimmed than they were when she started, and it looked much better. “Okay, done.” She announced, but her mentee didn’t seem to hear. He stayed as he was, head angled into her touch that had already ceased as if she was still going, and sporting a dazed, unaware expression finished off a slight part of his lips. “Done.” She tried again. No reaction. “Luca?” Taking a couple steps back, she eyed the man with concern, but she didn’t have to wait long. Hearing his name must’ve caused him to drift back to reality and catch on that she was no longer touching his hair. He seemed to come to, blinking awareness back to himself like he had been a thousand miles away. 

 

“Sorry.” Shaking off the fog he had been in, his free hand imitated Maybel’s actions from a moment ago, threading through his hair as he checked out his new haircut and leaned closer to the mirror. “Thank you, bishop.” 

 

“Look okay for you?” She asked with hands clasped in front of her, tapping her thumbs. 

 

He turned around to face her and nodded once. “This is what I was trying to do but you did it better.” Muscle memory guided his free hand as he spoke to secure the mask’s straps once more. 

 

“Yay! I’m glad you’re happy with it. I’ll get out of your hair, then, pun intended, and let you get back to your day off. Tomorrow we will be back at it again, I’ve been hearing through the grape vine that we might have tour dates confirmed soon.” Without further ado, she turned to let herself out, leaving Luca standing there with another case of whiplash over how fast things were progressing. 

 

 

Chapter 10

Summary:

Sorry for the delay I got stuck :( anyways as always thanks for reading and for your kudos and reviews! I love reading them :)

Curls of black hair whipped at wind deafened ears as the ministries newest anti Pope cruised on his newly repaired motorcycle, and the man couldn't help but smile. Now on the tail end of his short outing, he was already less than a minute away from the ministry grounds, and let his mind wander as he so often did. He hadn't realized how much he missed this feeling. Wind in his face. Sun warming his skin-through his jacket at least. Freedom that only this pair of sometimes stupidly adrenaline fueled wheels could provide. Earlier in the morning he spent a few hours crouched next to its metallic heart, grinning at the familiar feeling of grease and oil on his fingers when the engine finally purred to life. It was an irresistible invitation to go for a ride. 

 

He tore out of the ministry grounds without any actual plan of where exactly he was going yet, only knowing he was absolutely itching for a joyride that would earn him a scolding from a more sensible person. He revved the thing until his surroundings were a blur and laughed as his heart raced. Yep, needed this, He thought to himself. There was only so much studying and acting a man can do before he needs to do something that would make the entire upper clergy grimace at the new leader they collected, after all.

 

He felt good. Light. Happy. It was his first day free of his new responsibilities and he had a check Maybel brought to him early that morning burning a hole in his pocket, so he would cruise until any type of food that wasn't the often somewhat bland standard issue meals from the cafeteria caught his eye. He would pick up the first good, hot meal he’d bought in quite a while, and he’d fuck off back to his room, put something sappy on his tv, and stuff his face with food. It was gonna be a good day. 

 

———

 

Luca’s approach to the church was not unnoticed. Under its tall, imposing spires, a small group of friends stood just outside near the door, chatting casually-likely about the latest, juiciest church gossip- after returning from their own little trip to the city. The group was just about to wrap it up and get back to their assigned duties, going so far as to have the wooden door already cracked open, but the rumbling of the approaching motorcycle grabbed their attention, effectively halting their conversation. Rarely was there anyone on these roads that wasn’t coming to or from the church. Even more rarely was there a vehicle slowing to make the turn in that wasn't a ministry car, and none of the standard issue vehicles sounded like that.

 

Heads swiveled at the sound of the approaching bike. "Is that a motorcycle engine? Who the fuck has motorcycle?" One of them asked the others, before craning her neck around to confirm if the vehicle in question was approaching or just passing by. Nobody she’d ever seen living at the church had one. Most of the church's inhabitants just used the ministry cars if they needed one, or got a ride from someone else. Whoever was approaching had to be someone new. 

 

"I think it is! Wasn't there a broken one just sitting over there a couple weeks?" A second sister replied, shading her eyes from the sun and squinting as she tried to peek between trees at the flash of light reflecting off the pipes of the bike.

 

"Oh, shit yeah! You’re right, I saw it, but I don't know who it belongs to. Maybe that Cardinal who came recently from Europe? The Polish one?" The first one responded, thinking of a tall and very dashing, polished man who had recently arrived to this main branch for a few weeks of visiting.

 

Three pairs of eyes were glued to the road in nosy anticipation where it curved into the parking lot, and sure enough, Luca and his motorcycle came cruising around the corner right into their line of sight looking every bit an exciting Hollywood bad boy. The appearance of the masked man, in fitted black clothes with his fine leather jacket capping off the look earned a few sounds of approval from the bunch.

 

"holy fuck! That is the new Papa isn't it, he was wearing a mask at the mass the other day! I know this guy is not wearing the paint, but that has to be him!"

 

The third woman, who had been quietly observing the strangers approach with eyes wide as saucers now broke her silence. "Fuck, he's way hotter than he looked under those robes. A sharp dressed man in leather, where has he been this whole time? Frater Imperator never looked that damn hot."

 

The first one slapped her arm, teasing. "Stop looking at him like he's fresh meat, Layla! You don't have a chance."

 

"You wanna bet? Let's go say hi."

 

"Okay, okay, but we have to at least sort of behave ourselves. What if he's an ass? We don’t know how he is. Let's not get off on the wrong foot." The second agreed, and the three of them hurried over to stop the man as he turned down an aisle of cars to find a place to park.

 

—— 

 

Why the fuck is there so little parking at this place, the man on the bike mentally grumbled, bitter both that such a massive church had such a minuscule capacity for vehicles and that his ride was coming to an end. He’d thoroughly enjoyed himself. Only broke maybe 3 traffic laws in the process. A low score for him, at least when the mood struck him. 

 

He turned down another aisle, first eyeing an empty spot in the next row over, then far more curiously, a trio of sisters of sin waving him down like getting his attention was an emergency. A glance at the building behind them confirmed there was no catastrophe he was sure he’d be expected to pull a solution from his ass for if one existed, which left only one other option. They actually wanted to speak with him. 

 

His brow furrowed with surprise. The woman who appeared to be the ring leader was smiling and becoming him towards the group. He hesitated for only a moment before slowly pulling up to them, kicking a foot out for support as he stopped right in front of them. The corners of his mouth turned up in a small polite smile as his mismatched eyes scanned the group questioningly. He didn’t know where to start but they certainly seemed to have something to say. 

 

"Hi! You're Papa Perpetua, aren't you?" The first one shouted over the noise of the engine.

 

He saw her mouth move, but didn't quite make out her words. One finger held up in the air indicated his intention to respond, but he quickly dismounted the speedy machine, crouched beside it to reach something on it, and the engine died into silence. 

 

"Sorry, what was that?" He asked the woman now that the only sound was distant cars passing and the chirp of a few birds.

 

"You're Papa V Perpetua, right?" She asked again with a smile.

 

He hesitated, still unused to his new title and especially unused to being called the full thing, but he nodded once, and his eyes flicked over each of the sisters in turn, evaluating them and trying to determine what they wanted from him.

 

He hesitated. Yes, it was him, but it still felt strange to hear it aloud. He nodded once. He’d have to get used to it, he knew. He didn’t hide the way his eyes flicked over each of the sisters in turn, trying to determine what exactly they were after.  Judging by the look in their eyes, he felt pretty confident he knew. 

 

The sister held out a hand to shake. "It's nice to meet you! I'm Sister Edie.” She spoke, her voice bubbly and bright. “Did anyone ever tell you your voice sounds just like Frater Imparators? It's so crazy hearing his voice coming out of a different man. He just has the slightest bit of an accent and you don't but otherwise you and him sound like, exactly the same."

 

He pushed down thoughts of his already rocky relationship with the brother he’d barely met. Barely seen. Yes, his voice was what he seemed to have most in common with the man. As far as he knew. The guy still wouldn’t speak to him.

 

"I have been told that, yes." He responded as he took her hand to shake.

 

He saw her friendly smile falter just enough at his somewhat unenthusiastic reply, the greeting slowly falling from her face. However, it apparently it didn’t discourage her much. A quick glance either way at her friends and she spoke up again, and as soon as the question left her mouth he knew she was likely speaking for the whole group. He knew there would be questions like this. None of the congregation knew anything about him, and he knew they wanted to know everything, regardless of if he was ready to share or not. 

 

"What branch did you transfer in from? None of us had ever seen you before the other day. We were all very surprised, but we're glad you're here!"

 

His lips turned inwards, and he chewed on the bottom one for a moment. What could he say that both wasn’t a complete lie and didn’t make him sound pathetically unqualified? Whatever he said would be broadcast throughout the congregation in short order- he knew this. He really couldn't even try to lie. Hell, he didn't know enough about the other branches still, besides where the bigger ones were located, to even come up with something believable. In this moment he couldn't help but wish Maybel was around to redirect or just give him a push in the right direction. Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t, and friendly conversational replies weren’t always his strong suit. 

 

"I didn't." He eventually answered flatly. Lack of elaboration wasn't a lie, he decided.

 

"Oh." Edie frowned, confused. She glanced at the others, then back to the man. "Where did you come from then?" She asked, sounding genuinely curious this time.

 

He shrugged. Nothing he could respond with wouldn’t be disappointing, and he almost regretted not having anything more specific to say. Especially when his answer was likely to incite more questions. "Nowhere in particular."

 

Edie nodded, but she, nor her friends were following.

 

Luca noticed one of the others was eyeing his face intently. It was clear where her thoughts were going, and he was unsurprised when she asked, "why do you wear a mask? Don't get me wrong, it looks cool, but I didn't think you'd wear it all the time."

 

Her tone was friendly, he knew she didn't mean any harm, but he hated being asked this. It was yet another question he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, respond to. He had yet to share that information with anyone and he certainly wasn’t going to start with them, no matter how harmless their intents were.  Bringing it up still hurt. Despite his best attempt to avoid leaving a negative impression or coming off rude to these members of his new flock, he couldn't keep the clipped tone from his voice. "I do wear it all the time. But why is my business." He slid his thumbs into his pockets, hoping it made him look casual and not one question from striding off towards his room. 

 

 

He watched as the sisters looked at each other. This clearly wasn't going as they'd hoped. The third one chose then to decide to break this pattern and speak up, her angle apparent on her face as soon as she started. He smirked, amused as the woman tossed her hair over her shoulder, fluttered her eyelashes, and leaned towards him to graze one hand against his body. His eyebrows rose behind his mask. Damn, she’s pulling out all the tricks in the book. 

 

"Well regardless, you look bad ass with that bike, Papa. I'd love to take a ride." She finished with a wink.

 

He let his smirk grow into a closed lip, almost smug grin. It wasn't the first time someone came onto him like this. In fact, it wasn't even the second, or third- Luca found that being a mysterious masked biker with a damn good voice had a tendency to… attract people. Especially those who had nothing else to do but hang around the same shitty, middle of nowhere dive bars he periodically found himself at when he both felt a little too low during his travels and had a little bit of money to spare. Hell, he’d even learned he could throw these people a bone and it would score at the least a wad of cash thrown in his guitar case. Sometimes more. But this was something he knew. An answer he could give that wouldn’t leak his personal details. 

 

He then let out a low chuckle, made direct eye contact with the woman, and played along with the ease of a mediocre drunk man leaning up against a bar.

 

"You asking to take a ride on me or my bike?" he questioned, even going so far as to give a slight upward nod with his chin while his lips fell back into a smirk. 

 

The first two women looked shocked, but held back giggles, with one even covering her mouth with her hand, hopefully deciding he must not be a total standoffish prick, while the third leaned into her flirting even more since the new Papa gave her energy right back. "Depends entirely on you, Papa, either one is good for me. Or both. Luckily, I have plenty of time today."

 

It was an ego boost, he couldn't deny it- how quickly she was practically eating from the palm of his hand. Mysterious masked musician with a cool bike and power. He couldn’t forget to add that to the list now, he thought as he purposely let her reply linger in the air for a moment despite already knowing she would be disappointed if it were a serious offer. Although he was playing along with this woman's advances, he really wasn't interested in a casual lay. At the moment, he was doing it for the politics of it, playing nice, and the politics weren’t interesting enough for him to ignore the empty feeling settling more and more in his stomach with every minute that passed. 

 

"You’re very bold and that is very flattering, sister. But maybe another day. I have to eat my soup, actually." He pulled a round container inside a plastic bag with the handles tied together from a saddle bag on the bike, and held it up. 

 

"What?" She asked, brow furrowed, and her sultry look falling almost comically quickly into a frown. The three sisters all looked between each other as if they could not believe this man was turning down getting laid in favor of eating soup, but he repeated himself and left no room for doubt. 

 

"I was just out getting soup. I don't like it cold. Anyways, I'll see you around, I'm sure, sisters. It was nice meeting you, have a good day." He waved with his fingers, then leaving no time for response, started walking his bike back to where it had been parked.

 

Luca hadn’t quite made it to the turn to his hallway before he was stopped again. This time, it was not by a sibling walking through the afternoon hallway traffic, but some of his bandmates. He nodded a greeting to them as they jogged a few steps to stop in front of him. 

 

“Hey Papa,” Dew, the eternal menace, started with a tone that Luca did not really like. “You cut your hair, huh?” 

 

With his free hand not holding the tied bag handles, he felt his newly shortened hair. “Bishop Madison cut it, mostly. She did a good job.” 

 

Joining the conversation, the rhythm guitar ghoul piped up. “The fuck? I asked her to get the tag off a jacket I just got and she told me to ‘figure it out, there’s a way to get it off,’ but she gave you a whole damn hair cut? Wooow, okay.” Phantom rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips.

 

While Phantom was pretending to be critically wounded by this news, the man felt the same warm feeling as when he was on the receiving end of the woman’s smiles growing within him. She did him a big favor, which was her idea, by the way, while she refused such things of others she knew for longer, and someone she was actually friends with. The corners of his mouth turned upwards, but Phantom soon affixed him with a glare. He took the opportunity to ask the ghoul the first thing that came to mind. “Was it an anti-theft tag on the jacket?” 

 

“You’d know a lot about anti theft tags, wouldn’t you, Papa? Since you’re a seasoned thief.” Dew cut in, his tone joking, but even the light tone of voice couldn’t disguise the harsh accusation that was definitely not a joke. 

 

He crossed his arms, allowing the soup container in the bag he carried to bang against his abdomen as the hand that was holding it raised to its new position. “I’m not a thief!” 

 

“Sure you’re not, you just break into places just to look. Yeah, yeah, sure. Nobody buys that, except Maybel, apparently, since she’s always defending your sketchy ass. But!” Dew pointed an accusatory finger in Luca’s direction. “Whatever you did to make her into your personal guard dog isn’t gonna work on me.” 

 

He pointed right back at the ghoul. “Don’t call her a dog.” 

 

Cirrus chirped up, tired of the arguing. She put her hand beneath the container in the bag, lifting it from its suspended state ever so slightly. “What you got here?” 

 

He took a step back, a little thrown by the change of subject, and directed his attention towards the ghoulette. “Soup.” 

 

“Soup? What kind? It smells good.” 

 

With a quick decision, he decided to make an effort to talk a little more. According to the ghouls, Maybel thought he was not so bad of a guy, and he had spoken with her more than anyone else. If a few more words were the price of winning over his band mates, he’d make a conscious effort. “Ehm, I am not sure. I just asked the restaurant for spicy soup, whatever kind they had, and this is what they gave me. I have been craving spicy soup for a while now.” 

 

Dew crossed his arms. “Did you buy it or threaten them at knifepoint for it?” 

 

With a long suffering sigh, he replied indignantly. “I bought it, Dewdrop.” He matched the ghoul’s tone from a minute ago. Belatedly, he added, “I think it has chicken. And, the knife thing was once-” 

 

Phantom and Cirrus immediately looked at each other with their mouths shaped into o’s.  It was a confirmation that Dew’s story was true. Luca spared them a glance but didn’t let their reaction interrupt his response to their companion. “-When I was desperate. I’m sorry, okay? What’ll it take for you to let it go?” 

 

The fire ghoul put his hands on his hips. “You can’t blame us for not trusting you, you didn’t really give a great first impression. You can start by letting me try that soup. It does smell good. And I’m a little famished.” 

 

Mismatched eyes stared into the ghouls blankly. So the price of friendship isn’t words, it’s soup that I’ve been craving for a month. He picked at the knot in the plastic bag’s handles until it came loose, fished out an individually wrapped plastic spoon, and held it out to Dew.  “Alright, fine.” 

 

Once his spoon hand was free, he reached into the bag once more to grab the soup container, which he opened, and held out to the ghoul for him to scoop up a spoon. Instead, the fire ghoul reached out both hands grabbed the whole bowl, brought it to his mouth, and took a long sip. Then another, and another. “Damn, you can sure pick out a soup. Phantom, try it!” 

 

The next ghoul accepted the bowl eagerly, not hesitating for a second before slurping up a big taste, and immediately spitting it out. “What the hell is in this? Straight up Carolina reaper juice?” Even faster than he accepted the bowl of soup, he shoved the offending liquid away to Cirrus, and took off running in the direction of the ministry cafeteria, jumping side to side as he dodged siblings and clergy. “Milk! Please! Milk!” 

 

The new Papa just watched, keeping the amusement at the creature from hell’s low spice tolerance out of his expression, which was admittedly not too difficult when he was unamused at the situation in general. He was sure at least half of his meal was gone, and more would be gone soon, now that he saw the ghoulette glance quickly at him before raising the bowl to her own lips to take a sip. He clenched his teeth harder each time she swallowed. Luckily, just before he was going to ask for whatever was left in the bowl to be returned to him, she stopped on her own and handed it back to its rightful owner. He held it level, up to his eyes and grumbled. Only about a third was left. 

 

“Thanks V!” Cirrus chirped, licking her lips. “That’s delicious.” 

 

“Yeah, thanks dude, see ya.” Dew repeated as he waved to his remaining companion to move along as he turned to leave as well. 

 

Luca pressed his thumb and forefinger to his forehead for a moment, standing alone now in the hallway. After a deep breath, he looked at the remaining bit of soup, paused, then raised the bowl to his lips to finish of what little was left of the broth before pouring the bits of chicken, peppers, and other vegetables into his mouth and tossing the container and the bag it came in into a nearby trash can. They were right, it was very good. 

 

The man spun on his heel, turned right back the direction he came from, and headed for the doors. From the corner of his eye, as he walked, he saw the group of sisters from outside meandering their way down the entryway. The flirtatious one glanced his way as they passed each other, and with a split second decision, Luca beckoned her with his finger, and watched as she suddenly split away from her friend group who all sported matching looks of confusion until their eyes followed her path to see him calling. Then, they turned to giggles and shock. 

 

“Come on.” He told her as jerked his head toward the huge wooden main door, and the woman’s face lit up. She eagerly followed him like he had just promised to show her the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

 

Once they were out the doors, she asked, still keeping pace as he strode towards his bike, “What about your soup, Papa?” 

 

“It escaped me.” 

 

Her brows pinched, but she moved on. “Where are we going? A secluded spot on the beach, maybe?” She smirked. 

 

“You asked for a ride. So I’m taking you for one.” He purposely hesitated, knowing how she may interpret his words, before adding the most important detail with a shit eating grin. “To get more soup.” 

 

Chapter 11

It was a couple weeks after Luca and the ghouls spent several long days dedicating every waking moment to recording Ghost’s next full length album, which everyone who had heard agreed was typical Ghost, yet different. The new Papa’s songs were much more introspective, and some loved it, while others, coincidentally, the same who were the most skeptical about the church leader who appeared out of nowhere one day, were not so sure if Papa V Perpetua’s Skeletá would be received well. The man himself knew this, but as he played through the CD one of the fancy professional sound guys had burned for him on the old boombox he found in his room, he couldn’t bring himself to care. It felt like a dream.

 

He sat at the small kitchen table in his room, one lamp on, late at night after a full day of one hundred tasks in preparation for the upcoming tour, just watching the disk spin. 

 

“This is the end of the avenue, I am afraid of eternity too,”

 

He listened to his own voice close out the record, and shook his head disbelieving. The CD stopped spinning and the low mechanical buzz of the boombox spinning it quieted leaving the room in complete silence. He clicked the disk out of its place and held it. Somehow, it felt far more real this way. Of course he knew that this would happen; that an actual, real album would be produced, and that it would be polished off and sent to be pressed into all sorts of colors of vinyls, CDs, cassettes, and broadcast on streaming services all over the world. He took a deep breath, stuck on his last thought for a moment. The whole world would be presented with this musical offering. With him. With the songs he had to pull from his ass with short notice yet threw his soul into. With the music that would make or break him.

 

 The idea that he, who had little musical experience besides the monastery choir where he grew up and many years of singing alone on street corners had made this, a whole ass rock album, was mind blowing. And it was a pretty damn good album, he had to admit. The ghouls of course helped bring what was in his head to life, but putting it all together, professionally recorded and mixed, was unbelievable. In the morning, he would call and give the final okay to send it off to the label for publication and manufacturing. There would be no going back from there. It was really happening, and he was really doing this. 

Things had changed so much in such a short time that he felt his life now was unrecognizable. He had his own place, a comfortable bed, as much food as he could eat, a good paycheck, a respectable title, and the dream come true of being a professional musician who was on track to become an actual rock star. Never in his life had any of this seemed to have even the slightest chance of becoming a reality, and yet, it had. All he was missing now was the friends and family he missed all his life. However, it was not so long ago that he had nothing, no home, only one set of clothes, and food was hit or miss, and that fact was always on his mind. The thought alone of slipping up in his new role and having the rug pulled out from under him was enough to make him nauseous. 

 

————————

 

The sunrise the next day found the new church leader in his new office he’d been allocated a couple weeks ago, which felt more like a study in a Victorian manor than an office. It was filled with dark wood, massive bookshelves, and deep red brocade fabric upholstery on most of the furniture that surrounded his heavy desk. Although it felt expensive, he couldn’t say it was decor that he would have chosen. It was a little too stuffy for his taste. Built into the bookshelves, a TV was nestled, with dvd and VHS players hooked up, and stuffed into the VHS player was a tape of one of Cardinal Copia’s performances on his first tour. The knowledge that this was as close as he’d get to his brother despite the man living in the same building was a prick in the heart every time he thought about it, but there was work to do, and he brushed it off as best he could.

 

Luca sat at his desk, but faced completely sideways from it to face the television. A spiral notebook was propped on his thigh, and in his left hand he held a fountain pen which was furiously scrawling across the page a couple times a minute. Notating some little vocal trick that earned cheers and clapping, a joke here and there that landed well. A certain dance move or inflection that drove the audience crazy. As he studied the tape, he sang along with his brother’s image under his breath to practice getting all the words- despite his inexperience, he had the sense to know he’d end up singing at least a few of these older songs when it was his own turn in front of the fans.  

 

Two knocks on his door, followed by a familiar voice calling out, “knock knock!” caught his attention. 

 

The visitor didn’t need to further introduce themselves; the man identified Maybel’s voice immediately. He smiled to himself- she had sort of ‘taken the training wheels off’ lately, and as a result, he had not seen her as often as when he first arrived, so her visit was a welcome surprise. He quickly hit the power button on the remote. “Come in!” He called from his chair.

 

The door handle turned and she slipped in, her customary work outfit of a black habit swirling around her legs. From her demeanor and rushed entry, he inferred that she had so far had a busy morning, and a visit to her pupil was just one item on her list. His curiosity was piqued by an index card held between her fingers, but he didn’t have to wait long to sate it.

 

She waved with her empty hand as she came in. “Hey Papa, I was just coming to give you this. It’s from Mr. Psaltarian.” 

 

He smiled up at her in a genuine but carefully closed-lipped grin as soon as she was through the door, his notebook now forgotten but open on his desk as he turned away from the TV. Standing to take the card, he thanked her and waved his hand towards the chairs opposite his. “You can sit. I have beef jerky.” Mismatched eyes trained on her hopefully. 

 

Her brow pinched, but she giggled. “Beef jerky? How could a woman refuse?” Eagerly, she pulled out a chair and sank into its ornate fabric cushions. 

 

Resuming his seated position, he pulled a bag of the chewy protein from a drawer and pushed it across the table to her. Once she had the bag open, he read the index card she brought. 

 

Please be available for a quick call at 1:30pm today -Mr. Psaltarian 

 

“Wanna piece?” Maybel asked, stopping him before he could start overanalyzing the appointment card. When he looked up, she was holding a segment of the meat towards him. 

 

He shook his head. “It’s too hard to eat without...” He touched his lips. Although he had learned to apply his papal paints himself without the help of a costume or makeup person, the feeling of it on his skin still felt foreign. The man in the mirror was only just beginning to stop looking like a stranger.

 

At first, she gave him a confused look. It’s too hard to eat without lips? she thought for a second before realizing he was referring to the black makeup. “Just keep some black lipstick in your pocket or in the drawer.” She suggested, then tore a bite off the piece she had offered with her teeth. Her next words were muffled by chewing. “Then you can just touch it up easily. You wouldn’t get most foods all over your face, so it would do the job.” She mimed putting on said lipstick over her own red stained lips. 

 

His eyebrows raised beneath his mask, but his small smile returned in response to her immature speaking and chewing that was somehow charming when she did it, rather than irritating. “I did not think of that.” He responded, and began to rub his jaw in thought, but quickly rethought it when he felt the paint atop his skin. 

 

“Why would you? You’re a man who never had to concern himself with his makeup before.” She smiled, reassuring, before getting distracted by the notebook. Despite it being upside down, it was pretty easy to read the subtitles that were underlined. The rest was harder- it was written in fancy, italicized cursive that looked like someone who wrote the Declaration of Independence could’ve written. Definitely old fashioned and practiced over many pages of perfecting each swoop with patience she did not have the discipline for. “What are you working on?” 

 

Luca suddenly shut the notebook and shoved it in the drawer the beef jerky came out of. His nerves jumped. “Just… writing.” He was a performer, albeit one who played to streets and sidewalks, so admitting in elaborate cursive that he wasn’t as confident about his new assignment as be pretended to be felt embarrassing.

 

“About Rats and Absolution?” She asked casually, oblivious to the self consciousness of studying the man across from her was experiencing, and still finishing up chewing her last bite of jerky. 

 

“Uh.” The man blanked. He also didn’t want to admit he was taking notes on his own brother, but no excuse came to him. 

 

Maybel crossed her arms. Ever observant, she noticed the empty VHS sleeve near the TV and made an educated guess. “You know, if I ask nicely I might be able to twist his arm into just telling you a few best practices. Straight from the horse’s mouth and saves you some time and effort.” She pointed to clearly labeled the VHS sleeve, and he knew there was no use denying it. 

 

A cold wave of bitterness ran through his veins at the thought. He stiffened as the memory of his only “meeting” with his brother came to mind. “No.” He looked away. “I don’t need anything from him.” 

 

She leaned back in her chair and frowned. “I thought you were very eager to yknow, form a relationship with him?”

 

“I…” he drifted off, but anyone could see the cogs turning in his head. 

 

After he paused a little too long than was comfortable, clearly fighting some battle in his head, she endeavored to pull him out of it. “Lukieee…?” 

 

“Yes. I am.” Disarmed by the nickname, he sighed, and put his elbows on the desk, threaded his fingers together and clicked one thumbnail against the other repeatedly. “But he- he doesn’t want to help me.” 

 

Maybel’s lips pursed sympathetically. 

 

His sharp eyes rose to meet hers, shadowed by his mask. The tone in his voice was stern, but to a person as perceptive as Maybel, the hint of plaintiveness was unmistakable. “Bishop, the mass when he inducted me was the only time I’ve seen him closer than a few hundred feet away. All this time, that I’ve been… assimilating into being Papa, he manages to never be in the same room. Maybe if I am successful without irritating him with my presence he will decide I’m not a waste of time and we can get to know each other.” He paused for several seconds and chewed his bottom lip, then added, “Secondly, I don’t trust him not to steer me wrong, either, as a sabotage, after what he did at the mass. And I can’t fail.” 

 

“Ah.”  She reached across the desk to place a hand on his forearm comfortingly and gave it a squeeze. There wasn’t much she could think of to say in response to him. “I don’t think he wants you to fail, though, if it makes you feel better. It would be bad for the whole church and he knows it.” 

 

His heart skipped a beat and head turned down to look at where she touched him over the sleeve of the cassock he’d gotten in the habit of wearing every day he worked, and he couldn’t help but wish he was wearing short sleeves. The difference in the neutrality or even slight discomfort he felt when the sister he allowed to ride along on his motorcycle the other day touched his sides or threaded her fingers through his belt loops as the sped down the road, compared to the butterflies he was getting from the simple squeeze of his forearm was night and day. With the involuntary reaction his body gave, he felt he could no longer deny the childish crush that had infected his brain, and he tore his eyes from her hand to instead look to the ceiling, close his eyes, and sigh, frustrated. He couldn’t have a crush on his teacher. No- he swore to himself, this stupid affliction would never see the light of day. 

 

He took another deep breath to prepare himself to continue his conversation normally and casually and without letting what was going through his head show. He affixed his visitor with a skeptical look.  “I did see what he had done to that billboard,” he countered the last thing his visitor said, but chose to leave out how his eyes burned and he felt the some of the worst shame he had felt in his life as soon as he saw the defaced billboard that read, “V is the Worst.”

 

Nobody needed to know how close he was to jumping on his trusty old motorcycle, revving it up and disappearing into the night at speeds that would make him forget that going above and beyond his best was not good enough for a single lick of approval from the man he wanted it from the most. No one even noticed he had essentially locked himself in his room without a word to anyone for three days, anyway. 

 

She grimaced. “Yeah that was a real dick move, I can’t defend him on that one.” 

 

He waved it off. “He can shit on me all he wants. I’ll prove to him and everyone that I can do a good job. I can be happy here without him… I am, actually. I’m very blessed here, in every way but ehm. Interpersonal, I guess. But it’s not as though I was drowning in friends and family out there but… sorry, I am rambling.” 

 

“No! Don’t apologize, I am glad you’re actually talking a little more these days,  you hardly said a word when you got here.” 

 

His eyes slid lazily away from her, and he mumbled, “Hmm. Mostly just to you.” 

 

Maybel raised one eyebrow, sat back and crossed her arms, teasing. “Huh, I think you’re getting on just fine with everyone, not just me. Heard it took you… a whole half a day off to have a fling with Sister Layla.”

 

The man’s head shifted back and he quirked his head. He felt like someone just told him the sky was lime green, and he was thrown through a loop. He’d been shut up in the recording studio for quite some time, and hardly ever went out in the ministry besides to the parking lot for a ride on his bike or to grab food from the cafeteria, which he always ate in his own room. “A fling? With who?”  

 

“Sister Layla.” She replied, nodding. “Everyone has heard about it.”

 

Taken aback, he shook his head. “I don’t know who that is.” His mind raced trying to think of a guess, as well as coming up with worst-case scenarios over what the rest of the clergy he’d had a couple of meetings with were thinking of him now. It couldn’t be a good impression. 

 

Now, she slapped his arm and laughed. “The motorcycle ride chick? There were witnesses! Ha, you cad! Sleeping with a woman and you don’t even know her name. Yeah, you’re definitely part of the bloodline.” 

 

He shifted in his chair and shook his head. “Oh, her? I didn’t sleep with her, or anyone. She asked me for a ride so I gave her one.”

 

“Wait, really?” 

 

“Yes, really. I was making an effort to appear less like a standoffish stranger to the congregation. For appearances. Is she claiming we had sex or something?”

 

“I don’t know if she’s claiming an outright lie, I don’t really talk to her, but I bet she is just letting people believe it if they assume that’s what happened when you left with her, cause it would be a hell of a big feather in her hat. The first or only sibling to fuck the mysterious new Papa? Gold.” 

 

“Hm. It’s false.” He repeated with a frown. The idea that his crush, also his only friend, or at least he hoped she thought of him as a friend by now at least, thought he was a womanizer was a little bit of a punch to the gut. 

“I would recommend just ignoring it, since it’s not really a harmful rumour. Don’t worry though, it’s not like this is your old catholic church. Nobody here really cares who is doing who. It’ll be more of a fiasco if you bring it up publicly at some point, so it’s better to just disregard, even though it’s wrong or exaggerated, if you want my advice.” 

He nodded once, taking a mental note of it for future reference. With the hopes of having the correct response to this for a man in his role, he asked, “What did my predecessors do in this situation?” 

 

“Well for this specifically, chances are pretty damn high the rumour would be correct!” She laughed again, but then answered more generally. “They very rarely addressed any rumours or gossip at all. I think Terzo did once, when he had a cold and people spiraled it into ‘he’s on his death bed.’ It calmed them down.” 

 

Luca nodded once. 

 

The pair sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. One, recalling events and people who were in the past now, and the other battling a tinge of jealousy that many others had the chance to know his family member, but he did not get the opportunity.

 

Maybel’s voice broke the silence first. “Hey, I am due to meet with the team that designs the actual stage, not the like, decorations, but the stage itself and the supports that hold it up, in an hour. You were watching that tape that’s out of the box there, right?”

 

He nodded again. No sense dodging the truth now.

 

“Why don’t you put it back on and I will point out anything of importance I see from the production and technical side for you to add to your notes?” She offered. “The tour will be here before you know it.” 

 

Chapter 12

Summary:

Finally getting real close to the start of the tour, what could go wrong?

As always thanks for reading and thanks for your kudos and reviews! I get so excited when I see those notifications. Enjoy!

The ministry was abuzz with an anticipation that grew by the day. The tour opener was only a week away, but everyone who was involved would be leaving in only two days to allow for time to rehearse with the entire actual size setup and work out any kinks. For one man in particular, however, it was not exciting at all. Overhearing plans of fun things to do, seeing preparations, and seeing the tour busses parked out front waiting to be packed to leave made it actually a very difficult time. If he heard one more happy word about the tour, he might go insane, and so on that brisk evening, just as the sun was setting,  Copia went restlessly walking down the path to the mausoleum in the hopes his dear mother’s apparition might manifest before him for a chat. 

 

A groundskeeper had already lit the gas lamps that hung on both sides of the heavy double doors to the building, and they gave off an inviting warm light that made it seem like he’d be entering a place much cozier than the final resting place of most of his family. With a frown, he corrected himself. It wasn’t the final resting place. They would get no rest being hauled all over Europe. With his mood becoming even more sour, the thought crossed his mind as he grabbed the familiar handle and dragged the door open- that this was another thing the tour was taking from him: his family. He couldn’t visit them if they were in a truck several countries away.  

 

As always, a cone of incense burned somewhere, which kept the room from smelling like dust and formaldehyde. It was welcome, and even a bit comforting. Only two gas lamps lit the inside of the room, matching the ones outside, but the stone walls absorbed much of the light leaving it dim. As was his ritual, he methodically went to each of the glass coffins and bowed his head respectfully, starting with his oldest uncle and crossing the uneven cobblestone floor slowly and deliberately down the row, to Secondo, Terzo, and finally to his parents. 

 

“Daddio, good evening. Hope you’re having a good nap.” He greeted the body of Papa Nihil, even though he didn’t seem to be there at the moment. He wasn’t who came for the most, anyway, and after the same bow of his head, he turned to take another couple steps to the newest coffin. 

 

“Sister! Eh, Mother, it’s me.” He started to say as he took the first step. “It’s Cardi, your- Oi!” His second step, his foot caught on something disturbingly soft. Completely losing his balance, he fell forward and caught himself on his mothers coffin, but not before tripping a second time when his other foot met the obstruction. “Shit! Sorry, sorry…“ he apologized to the lifeless remains that he caught himself on. “Sorry about that.“ He chuckled at his own clumsiness, righted himself, and looked down to see just what it was that nearly caused him to knock his mother off the dais. The moping that had been on his mind since he decided to seek his late parents for a chat completely left his mind when he realized what he tripped on was legs. “What the fuck?”

 

A masked man in an unmistakable shining silver mask and black and silver face paint was lying unmoving on the ground, with his shoulders and head propped up against the wall. His chin was digging into his chest, and the bottom of his cassock was bunched up mid calf, suggesting he may have slid down the wall from a sitting position. With closed eyes, he seemed lifeless, but Copia could see no signs of injury or foul play. With a pang of embarrassment, he realized he had been so stuck in his mind with thoughts of the tour he was missing that he didn’t even notice there was anyone else in the mausoleum. But, then again, visitors coming to pay their respects didn’t typically lie on the ground silently, either so it wasn’t his fault. 

 

The longer his brother didn’t move, the more uncertain Copia became that the man was actually amongst the living. Although he tried, it was too hard to see if he was breathing in the low flickering light. His lips pressed into a line. The sudden death of his brother would be disastrous this close to the tour. And despite how much he wanted nothing to do with the guy, he didn’t want him dead. Unexpectedly, a pit formed in Copia’s stomach at the thought he very well might be ordering yet another coffin to match the five that already filled the room, and regrets started pricking him like thorns in the side. “Fucking hell. God dammit. You piece of shit, you have the worst timing,” he grumbled, voice strained with stress, yet unable to stay quiet as he placed one foot on either side of his brother’s legs, squatted halfway, and reached to put two fingers on the side of his painted neck. 

 

He was promisingly warm enough to not feel dead, but Copia felt no strumming beat of life beneath his hand. Adrenaline began to race in his veins. He shifted his fingers to a new spot, and put his other hand on Luca’s opposite shoulder to support himself. He leaned closer- only about a foot away from his brother's masked face now for a closer look as he felt for signs of life. Here, he felt a steady pulse beneath his fingers, and a great sense of relief. “Oh thank fuck, so you’re not-“

 

All of a sudden, the eyes behind the mask snapped open, and the masked man hissed in surprise when he awoke to find someone in his face. Trapped and cornered against the wall, his sleep-addled mind panicked. With a knee-jerk reaction, he shoved a flat palm hard into Copia’s face and nose, before he even registered it wasn’t the grim reaper himself preparing to guide him to the other side alongside his estranged parents. Copia yelped in both surprise and pain, and barely caught himself from falling all the way onto his back from the force of the impact while his brother scrambled to his feet and backed flat against the wall. 

 

“Ow! You dick!” Copia complained as he righted himself and got to his feet, grimacing and holding a hand to his stinging nose. “What the fuck, dude.” 

 

The other man looked like a deer in the headlights, frozen, yet liable to flee at any second. His eyes were wide and chest heaving as he stared into the pained face of his brother. He may as well have had his head under a guillotine with the amount of dread that filled him in that moment. Luca’s lips turned inward with enough apprehension to last a lifetime, and he mumbled in a small voice, “…I’m sorry.” This was bad. He knew immediately that this would not go over well with anyone. He did a bad thing. If it wasn’t bad enough already, the trickle of deep crimson that was starting to steadily trickle from his twin’s nose felt like the nail in his coffin. 

 

He could feel the fairytale he’d been living fading away. The soft warm bed shifting back into a secluded spot cleared of sticks and rocks.  The hot food transforming back to whatever sparse findings he used to sustain himself on. The purpose and dream of his latest work gave him dissolving back into aimless wandering and never achieving anything but being bought a drink at whatever shitty bar would let him sing. And perhaps worst of all- the closest person he had to a friend in years looking on him with disgust or hatred for harming her long-time friend who just happened to be the family he had longed to have for years. 

 

He couldn’t stop himself from tentatively approaching his brother and coming closer to him than he had ever been. Determined to fix what he had done, however inadvertently, he ignored the way his brother stiffened and shifted backward. He meant to help, he truly did. One of his hands found its way to the back of Copia’s head, keeping him from moving. He used that hand to tilt his head towards the ceiling, while his other hand came to the front and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Squeeze like this, look up, it will slow the bleeding.” He explained weakly, full of contrite, and wearing an expression like he was watching his own funeral.

 

“Ow! Ow!” Copia struggled to get away from the touch, managing to shake the hand off his face briefly, but the blood had not stopped dripping. 

 

“No, you have to… longer,” Luca pleaded and pinched the other man’s nose again, still trying to stem the bleeding despite the squirming. But, he was struggling too fiercely in his attempts to get away, and all the masked man succeeded in doing was getting thick drops of blood all over his hand. 

 

Blindly flailing arms finally batted him away. “Get off me!” Copia shouted, and when he had space, blocked his head with his arms. “That hurts, fuck off!” 

 

Luca’s arms were held out halfway reaching still for his only living family, but the thoughts that terrified him were beginning to multiply until his mind was overrun. Bloodied hands came to cover his face, smearing on his mask and cheeks as his head shook side to side beneath them. “I’m so sorry!” 

 

With one more look at his brother, who was lowering his arms, he strode out the door with long, hurried strides and his head pointed down to his feet. 

 

————————

 

Maybel was relaxed on her couch, her feet kicked up on her coffee table with a bag of popcorn sitting on the cushion beside her. She was spending the evening watching a movie that was recommended to her, and was about a third of the way through it when there was a loud knock at her door. She wasn’t expecting visitors. 

 

Frowning, she paused the movie, brushed the crumbs off of her t shirt, and answered the door. 

 

To say she was shocked at what she saw was an understatement. The new Papa stood with his arms hanging limply at his sides, and a haunted, blank expression. She had never told him where her room was, yet here he stood. His eyes were on hers, unblinking, but she got the feeling he wasn’t truly seeing her. It was unnerving as hell. But, what truly unsettled her was the fact that his mask and face were streaked with drying blood. Her eyes slid downwards, looking for signs of injury, but all she found was more blood on his hands. “Luca?” She asked tentatively, fear beginning to creep in. 

 

“I hurt Frater Imperator. Please help him.” He said as flatly as if he was reading financial reports in a newspaper. His eyes didn’t stray from hers for even a second. 

 

“What?!” Her heart began to pound. 

 

“I hurt him. You should go help him.” He repeated the same way. One red-streaked hand briefly touched his nose, then slowly lowered back to his side.

 

Although the answer terrified her, she had to ask, “Is that… h-his blood?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Her blood ran cold. “Oh god, oh shit,” she frantically went back into her apartment to find a pair of shoes. “Where is he?” She called to the doorway as she slid her feet into a pair of sneakers, without bothering to fish socks out of the drawer. “Where is he?” She asked again as she came back to the doorway. 

 

“With his parents.” 

 

“Oh god.” His answer made her assume the worst. His parents were dead. This man whom she had trusted just came to her door covered in blood and confessing he murdered his own brother. If Copia was with his parents, it had to mean he was dead. Everyone knew the twins didn’t get along, but nobody thought it was this bad. She looked at Luca, and back into her living room a couple of times as her mind ran like a hamster on a wheel trying to decide what to do with the man in front of her. She couldn’t just let him leave to run away and not face justice, or go harm anyone else. In as stern of a voice as she could muster, she ordered, “Go sit on the couch. Don’t move. Don’t go anywhere. Do you hear? Stay on the couch.” 

 

“Yes ma’am.” 

 

She watched him walk past her into the apartment obediently, stiff as a board, and lower himself onto her nearest couch cushion. He rested his hands on his lap, clasping them together and wringing them. Satisfied she did the best she could at the moment to contain the man who may be a murderer, she took off running down the hall while also dialing with shaking hands the first ghoul whose number came up in her contacts. As soon as they picked up, she explained in a slew of words that she’s afraid Papa Perpetua has killed Copia, ignored their questions, and insisted between breaths that they find a few more ghouls, go to her room, and make sure Papa doesn’t leave and potentially harm anyone else. Then, send the rest to help search for Copia. It would cause quite a commotion, she knew, but this was serious. 

 

She first went to Copia’s apartment, and pounded on the door. But after thirty seconds of incessant pounding, there was no sound from inside. She tried the door. Locked. Reasoning a dead man could not lock his door, she decided he must not be in here, and so she ran to his office through hallways that felt like they got longer every step she took. He could be bleeding out, he could potentially be saved, if only someone got to him quick enough. 

 

This time, she didn’t bother to knock, and simply barged into the room. The desk lamp was on, messy stacks of papers still on the desk, but the man was nowhere to be seen. She groaned.

 

With his parents, she thought to herself. She stood where she was, trying to catch her breath for a second. The mausoleum? Was this some sort or crime with sick forethought of putting him where bodies belong ahead of time? She turned and left his office, running out into the hallway to head outside. There were a few ghouls running in different directions, too- word had gotten out. The man would be found in short order, it was just a question of who would find him, and what state would he be in. 

 

Night had fallen by now, and it slowed Maybel down as she picked her way over roots of old trees and rocks that littered the path to the mausoleum. She just looked up from dodging the latest one when she suddenly found herself face to face with the man she was convinced she’d find in a gory, bloody puddle. And, he was walking carefully down the same pathway but in the opposite direction, towards the church, while appearing perfectly fine besides some smeared blood underneath his nose. 

 

“Copia!” She nearly shrieked with relief, and she pulled him against her in a firm hug. “Oh god, you’re alive!” 

 

“Eh?” Confusion painted his features, but he returned the embrace. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He asked over her shoulder. 

 

“Luca came knocking on my door covered in blood, it was even on his face and mask, and he had this weird look in his eye and he said he hurt you, and that you needed help.” She replied, her voice breaking. Now that the biggest stressor was lifted, her feelings were coming out, and she started to cry tears of relief. “I thought he killed you! I really did! He said you were with your parents, and with the blood, him saying he hurt you and the sort of haunted empty look he had, I thought he meant you were with them on the other side. I was so scared!” 

 

“Who’s Luca?” Copia asked, wracking his brain yet unable to think of anyone by that name. 

 

Pulling her head back to look him in the eye, Maybel looked at him like he had three heads. “Your brother?” 

 

“Oh, heh, I didn’t know his name.” He rubbed her back and shushed her, soothing. “I’m okay, Mayb, don’t cry.” 

 

“Everyone is looking for you, the ghouls know.” She sniffled. 

 

“We should head back inside then, so they can see I have been found, eh?” He gave her one last squeeze and pulled away. 

 

She nodded in agreement, and the pair began to make their way back to the building. “What happened? What did he do to you?” The woman asked, adrenaline finally starting to fade, leaving a weak, shaky feeling in its wake. 

 

“I went to visit mom and dad, but I tripped on something as I walked between their coffins, and looked down to see it was my brother. He was slumped against the wall and not moving, I was afraid he was fuckin’ dead, or something, who takes a nap in a mausoleum? And I tripped on him and that didn’t wake up him-“

 

“He’s the heaviest sleeper I’ve ever met,” She cut in.

 

“-so I leaned down to check his pulse and stuff, then he woke up while I was up close to his face I guess. He jumped and made a weird noise and shoved his hand up my nose.” He imitated the gesture, pushing his flat hand up and out. “Then my nose started bleeding and he came up to me, grabbed my head and fucking pinched my nose, which hurt like a bitch, I shook him off, and told him to fuck off.”

 

Maybel’s brow furrowed. “He pinched your nose? Why?” 

 

He shrugged. “He said it would slow the bleeding. It was dripping pretty fast, for a while.” 

 

She groaned and pressed her hand to her forehead wearily. “So he got blood on his hands by trying to help in an unhelpful way. Got it.” Pausing, she nodded as she processed the information. “Oh, I wanna kick his ass so bad, could he not have explained in a way that didn’t take ten years off my life?” 

 

————-

 

“He’s in here, C, or he should be. I told him to stay and then I told the ghouls to make sure he did, when I thought he was a fucking murderer.” Maybel stopped just outside the door to her apartment, and turned to face the man who was rubbing his sore nose. 

 

“I’ll go in.” He answered the unspoken question. “The ghouls, they probably won’t back off until they know for sure I’m y’know, alive.” 

 

With a nod, she opened the door. Two steps inside, both she and Copia froze when they saw the scene before them. Luca was not on the couch where she left him, but instead face down on the ground on the tiles of the kitchen floor. His head was turned to the one side, his cheek pressing against the ground with his mask digging into it. Phantom was fully sitting on his back, holding both of the man’s arms behind his back, twisted upwards in a clearly uncomfortable manner. If they were cranked any further, they’d be in danger of popping out of their sockets. His legs were tied together at the ankle by his own shoelaces, and Mountain stood over the man and the ghoul with his boot resting on the side of the new Papa’s neck. The man’s visible eye was screwed shut, and his lips tightened back baring his teeth in a pained grimace. For several seconds, as everyone looked at each other and processed what was going on, the only sound in the room was Luca’s labored wheezing. 

 

“Oh lord,” Maybel muttered, drawing her lips into a thin line. The consequences of her panic at the way Luca had appeared at her door were starting to add up in her mind and guilt began to eat away at her. 

 

“Copia! You’re okay! Thank fuck,” Phantom smiled, but made no motion to get off the man he was sitting on.

 

The man of the hour looked at his wheezing brother with what could only be described as a look of mild horror. “Yes, now uh, why don’t you guys uh, get off him, let him up. There’s been a uh… misunderstanding.” 

 

“I’m glad there was a misunderstanding cause it means you’re not dead.” Mountain chimed in causally, “Can someone explain?” 

 

Maybel scowled and took a few steps towards the group in her kitchen, waving shooing motions with both hands. “You’re hurting him! Get off him first!” 

 

“Oh, right. Well you said make sure he doesn’t go anywhere!” Phantom released his detainee’s arms and pushed himself to his feet, while Mountain backed off a couple steps to lean on the kitchen counter. 

 

The man on the ground sucked in a few hoarse gasps of air, catching up on oxygen after semi-suffocating from weak half breaths he had been able to manage while he had a ghoul on his back and a boot on his windpipe. All eyes were glued to him as he slowly moved his hands to place them flat on the ground beside his shoulders and tried to push himself up with shaking muscles, but he was only able to raise his upper body a couple of inches before his arms gave out limply. The blood constriction and unusual stretching he was forced into evidently meant he wasn’t going anywhere for at least a couple minutes.

 

“I told you guys to make sure he doesn’t leave, not torture him!” Maybel scurried to his side and started to pick apart the knot that kept him from moving his legs. 

 

“What? Were we supposed to be nice to the guy you told us fucking murdered Papa?” Phantom chirped.

 

Luca’s head shot up as much as he could raise it in his position. He tried again to push himself up, but only managed a little better than he did the first time before dropping down again.  His eyes were wide and looked like he’d been slapped.

 

“You mean Frater.” The bishop corrected, still working at the knot. It was pulled so tightly she was tempted to ask for a knife to just cut the damn lace. “Papa is on the ground, struggling to move or breathe.” 

 

“Sorry, Copia is still Papa to me, not the new guy. No disrespect to your new title though, buddy.” Phantom said to the brunette man. 

 

Copia seemed to puff up a little. “None taken.” 

 

“There, finally.” She pulled the laces free and got to her feet. “Help me help him up.” 

 

With the eagerness of someone on their way to a root canal, Mountain stepped forward, and the two of them lifted Luca from under his arms to set him on his feet. 

 

“Thank you.” He rasped, a half whisper. He stumbled to lean against the kitchen counter and brought a hand to his throat.

 

Outside the door, a muffled whimpering was heard. “Someone is crying.” Phantom realized. “Oh fuck, they’re mourning you out there.”

 

Copia looked in the direction of the sound and grimaced. “Shit, can you guys go spread the word I am not dead before people start writing my obituary?”

 

Mountain started heading for the door, with the other ghoul trailing behind shortly after. “Yeah, yeah, but you should probably make an appearance soon, too.”

 

“I will. Me and Mayb are just gonna discuss what exactly we should say to smooth this all over as much as possible first, right?” He said, looking in her direction. She nodded in agreement. 

 

As soon as the ghouls were out, Copia spoke again. “Should we sit down?” 

 

Before she could answer, Luca started heading towards the door, a little steadier than he had been, but not back to his usual gait. 

 

Copia caught his arm as he passed and scowled. “Are you really going to go out there looking like that? Look at yourself, dude. You’ll scare everyone and freak everyone out more than they already are. Fuck, think.” 

 

“He’s right, please go at least wash your face and hands and mask in the bathroom. You can even use my shower if you want to take a shower. There’s new bars of soap in the medicine cabinet. Should be a few clean towels stacked on a shelf in there, too. Just whatever you do, don’t go out of this room with your brother's blood all over you.” 

 

Mismatched eyes bored into each of them for long seconds, then he nodded once and turned around, disappearing into the small bathroom. 

 

“Now, what is the best way to go about this…” Copia flopped onto Maybel’s couch like he lived there. “We have to brainstorm.” 

 

 

Chapter 13

It was perhaps twenty minutes later, when Maybel’s bathroom door cracked open, and the freshly showered, free of blood masked man crept out, looking out the sides of his eyes to the pair seated on the couch like he expected them to jump up and attack.  Whatever conversation had been going on before the door latch creaked had stopped, and both Copia and Maybel watched the man emerge from the bathroom like they’d be required to write a research paper on him in the near future. 

 

He carried his cassock, folded neatly in his arms, opting to stay in just what he wore beneath it- black slacks and a fitted black turtleneck. His curly hair was half straightened by the water that still saturated it so thoroughly the ends dripped occasionally into the floor and his shoulders. Avoiding direct eye contact with either other person, he stood a few steps from the door, pinned like a butterfly, or moth, in an exhibit by their gazes. 

 

“Is that mask fuckin’ surgically attached to your face or what? Do you ever take it off?” Copia asked bluntly without relieving the other man from his evaluating look and flicking his hand towards his face. 

 

It took Luca several seconds to reply. First, the delay was due to surprise at being spoken to twice within an hour; his brother was not in the habit of treating him like a person and not an inanimate adversary. Then, he could not decide what to say. His eyes met their matching pair. He raised one finger. “No.” He raised a second finger. “Yes.” 

 

“Don’t bother to ask him to take it off, C, he will just get upset.” The woman warned. 

 

An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Maybel and Copia swiveled towards each other, hoping for the other to hint at what to say or do next, but neither seemed to have any answer. Luca shifted on his feet and filled his lungs with an audible breath. His mouth worked as he tried to get words out, but gave up when his movement drew the attention of Copia once more and the brunette started cracking up. 

 

“Heh, you look like a wet poodle. You ever heard of a hair dryer, man? We are going to need a wet floor sign there where you are standing pretty soon. Or wait, no, a cocker spaniel. With your hair like-“ He mimed the shape of his brother’s hair.

 

”Copia!” The bishop scolded immediately. “Rude!” 

 

Luca, however, did not really react. He met his brother’s eyes for a fraction of a second, squeezed his folded cassock tighter to himself, and started walking to the door. He paused just as he put a hand on the door handle and spoke to the ground with thinly veiled self depreciation coloring his voice. “If I were a cocker spaniel I would have the brains not to bite the hand that feeds me.” The door shut behind him. 

 

Copia turned back to Maybel with raised eyebrows. “Damn. Moody. Is he always like this?”

 

She frowned, and sighed. She’d heard his parting tone before. It was enough to set her own mind onto a whole different train of thought- what must he be thinking now? “Give him a break, I think he is… scared. Or worried, something like that.” 

 

“Why the fuck should he be scared? He’s the attacker, here.” Copia made a dramatic gesture of confusion with his palms up in an overdone shrug.

 

“Well, not scared of like, physical harm, I don’t think but… He knows you can’t stand him.” Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. Dark honey eyes, deadly serious, stared into the mismatched ones that she now knew two sets of. 

 

“Is it that obvious?” Copia withered under the pressure of his friend’s sobering look. 

 

“Yes. Everyone knows it. If your usual behavior wasn’t enough to make it clear, he told me he saw that billboard shit you pulled.”

 

The man looked down and scratched the back of his neck. 

 

“He’s already on your shit list and now he also fuckin’ hit you in the face, you, the most powerful man in the ministry…” she trailed off and waited if he would figure out what she was trying to say. “I think he’s worried you’ll kick him out. He’s probably shitting himself now.”

 

With a huff, he straightened his posture, punctuating his words with his arms and hands. “All I ever hear about the guy from Psaltarian is how great he is, how he’s just so good, how he’s about to go on the biggest tour ever, they think he’s hot shit with his, his, his leather and his shitty bike.  Sure, yeah, I’m the most powerful man in the ministry, but fucking V would have to be a fucking dumbass to be worried about me kicking him out now, days before this great huge amazing never before achieved tour starts. What does he have to be afraid of? Being handed a dream come true on a silver platter? He must just think I’m stupid, to jeopardize the church’s biggest income source days before it starts, well I’m not! I’m-“ 

 

Scowling now, Maybel cut him off. “C, did you ever bother to ask where he came from?”

 

“What does it matter? He’s here now, regardless of what his background is, apparently he’s more qualified than me.” 

 

“It matters because it’ll answer your question, and he’s your family. I’d think you’d care about your family. What does he have to be afraid of you say? Going back to not knowing when the next time he would get to sleep in a bed is. His next meal. Or his next shower. He even had this scraggly messy beard, in the first video Dew sent me when they just found him, and considering how quick it was gone after we put him up in a hotel that night it must not have been by choice.”

 

With a furrow in his brow and lips that began to turn downward, the woman’s words cracked a chip in the resentment he held for his brother. 

 

“He didn’t have anything but a guitar and his bike, Copia, when they found him. The morning after he got here, when I went to get him to start the day, he answered the door with just his bed sheet wrapped around himself. His single set of clothing was in his sink cause he was trying to wash all the shit from the road out of it and didn’t have anything else to wear. Do you know what he said to me after the librarian found him in the library when she opened it that one morning?”

 

In her mind’s eye, she could see the moment replay in her head. The thinly veiled pleading look he wore. The way he picked at the blanket he held- the blanket he brought with him to the library to wear himself to the bone in effort to fulfill what was asked of him. “He said please don’t kick me out. He hadn’t really done anything bad. He was trying to learn how to use recording equipment by reading manuals all night. But today, with you, there would be good reason.”

 

“He’s really scared I will throw him out?”  He sounded like the possibility he could do that had not even crossed his mind before.  “Genuinely?”

 

“Well, I can’t say for sure that’s what he’s feeling now, but I’m willing to bet… fuck. Fuck!” The image of the masked man standing at her door earlier haunted her, and the knife of guilt twisted in her gut.

 

“What?”

 

“He- when he came to the door and had that weird look it must’ve been cause he was terrified of it, because of what he did, and I interpreted it as like, a weird detachment after killing. Fuck, he came to me and I made everything a million times worse!” Her feet carried her halfway to the door before she even realized she stood up. “I should go talk to him, I gotta-“ 

 

Copia jumped up to block her path. With crossed arms and his best Frater Imperator voice of authority, he redirected. “No, you should come out with me and make a public statement so the congregation doesn’t lose their shit more than they already have. If you want to help him, stopping the rumor mill will do that. Remember, he’s a grown man. He got on without you, even with a life that that you say has been difficult, up until now. Not to be a dick, but I think you need to be the one to do most of the speaking out there since you set off the alarm bells.”

 

Torn between making sure her ward was not going to do something stupid like hop on his motorcycle to disappear into the night, or trying to lessen the damage to his reputation her accusations would surely cause, she acquiesced. He had nowhere to go- hopefully that was enough to keep him on church property while she did damage control. “You’re probably right. Let’s go.” 

 

 

——————-

 

Tour Departure Day

 

“Oh wow!” Maybel said to herself as she climbed the steps into her assigned bus out of the handful that would carry the touring group of church members across the continent. She had a giant backpack stuffed full slung over her shoulder, and a reusable cup she grabbed at the last minute. As one of the last to filter into the buses before the deadline be on or you’re getting left behind time, she could already see signs of life. Snacks, tea bags, bags of chips, candy bars, and a case of beer cans littered the counter in the small kitchen area immediately as she came in.

 

 To one side was a plush leather sofa and seating area complete with some side tables, cup holders, a TV, and  a door to the driver’s compartment. A few of the ghouls had already taken up residence, and were arguing over what movie to kick off the tour with. It brought a smile to her face. The last tour was her first on the band bus- previously she’d been assigned one with crew, but Copia himself had her moved to theirs. It couldn’t have been more of a blessing to get to tour the world and hang around with her best friends. With the new papa, she hadn’t been sure what her placement would be, but when the assignments came out she was pleasantly surprised. Although, it made sense, she supposed, since she was meant to be mentoring Papa, who of course was always on the band bus. 

 

This was what she lived for- the time spent on the road with the tour was her favorite. Being together and working on such an amazing project brought a sense of family to all who were present, and seeing the happy fans each night was so, so fulfilling. Not to mention the fun and memories that could not be replicated anywhere else. Stepping onto the bus had her just as giddy as the first time.  

 

To the opposite direction of the lounge area, there was a bathroom, and a staircase that practically begged her to climb it and explore the second floor. After tightening her grip on her backpack, she jogged up the carpeted steps and found herself in the bunk area. One top bunk had the curtain closed, and most of the others had belongings in them. Off limits, already claimed. Below the closed curtain one, a middle bunk, was empty, and that was good enough for her. She tossed her backpack into it. 

 

Past the bunks there was another door. Testing the handle, she found that it did open, and to her surprise, it led to another small lounge with comfortable two leather chairs a short sofa, another, smaller TV, and a huge window looking out the front of the bus. Grinning like she’d just been upgraded to a presidential suite, she dropped into one of the chairs and gazed out the front window, daydreaming about all the places they’d go. 

 

Before she knew it, she felt the bus rumble to life, and almost simultaneously, Phantom and a ghoulette she did not recognize walked through the door to the lounge area she was sitting in. “Mayb!” He greeted, gave her a quick, one armed hug, and sat in one of the other chairs. “Have you met Haze yet? She will be joining us on the tour.” 

 

“No, I haven’t.” The corners of her mouth went downwards in an impressed but curious frown, and her eyebrows raised. “It’s nice to meet you, Haze, I am Bishop Maybel. I’m crew, but I was asked to help the new Papa learn the ropes of touring. So I’m on the band bus.” Her frown shifted to a smile, and she gave a friendly wave ghoulette. “I haven’t seen you before, are you new to the main campus?” 

 

“No, she’s new to being on the surface. Just summoned this morning.” 

 

“By who?” 

 

Phantom tilted his head. “V, of course.” 

 

Her jaw dropped. Summoning a ghoul was no easy task, and summoning this close to tour was unusual. Plus, that was like, advanced degree, maybe even doctoral level ritual magick skills, not fresh out of Catholic Church and just learned about the existence of ghouls recently level skills. The news that the man had somehow summoned a ghoul on his own this early into his time with the ministry was beyond shocking. “How…? Also did he want to be called V? I didn’t realize he was actually going by that.”

 

“I dunno, we just have been calling him V and he didn’t say not to, so…” 

 

She nodded in acknowledgement. “Has your voice come to you yet, darling?” Maybel asked Haze gently. 

 

“Yes, I am feeling quite well.” Her soft voice replied. 

 

“That’s good to hear. He did a good job with the summoning, then. Welcome, Haze, I look forward to getting to know you.” 

 

“You as well.” 

 

Phantom patted the empty chair beside him, and she sat down. 

 

Maybel turned in her chair to face the others rather than the giant window. “Did you see Papa get on the bus, by chance?” 

 

“Oh, yeah, he’s been on for a while, I was surprised you weren’t with him. But he went straight to a bunk and shut the curtain so I couldn’t ask. Guess the summoning took a lot out of him, I figure he’s asleep or something.”

 

“Ah, right.” She tried to tell herself she didn’t really care that he had not said a word to her about summoning a ghoul, or that he didn’t even pop his head out of his bunk to say ‘hi, I’m here and on time,’ but whether or not he was avoiding her intentionally, it stung. 

 

———————-

 

Eight hours or so into being trapped on the temporary home on wheels, excited shouting and carrying on from the other occupants as they filed down the stairs for some ‘party’ they had been yammering about for the last two minutes broke his train of thought. A party he was just learning about just now. All the noise distracted Luca from his self imposed studying. His notebook was on his lap, but he left the reading light off despite the darkness, and he was sitting up as much as possible in the cramped space. The top bunk admittedly had a little higher distance between the bed and the roof than the middle and bottom ones, but the position he was propped up in was far from ergonomic. 

 

Just when he thought everyone but him had gone downstairs, there was a knock on the bunk’s support near his head, just outside the curtain. “Papa?” 

 

He recognized the timid voice of his new summon and pushed open the curtain. 

 

“Can humans see in the dark?” She asked, her head tilting curiously as she eyed the notebook covered in writing. 

 

“I can, but most can’t.” He explained patiently, then pointed to his left eye. “I guess it’s this weird eye I have.” 

 

“Oh, I see. They said they’re having a traditional tour kick off party, do you want to go? I noticed they did not tell you.” 

 

If the events of two days ago hadn’t happened, he might’ve been more eager to go try to make nice, but the idea was more nerve wracking than appealing now.  “I don’t know. I’ll think about it. Thank you for your concern, but go ahead, if you want.” 

 

She smiled, sharp canines showing, and went out of his line of sight. He heard her footsteps descend the stairs, and a cheer erupt as they welcomed her. It was good she was welcomed- he would’ve felt awful if he summoned her from whatever life she was living and threw her into one where she was alone and miserable. 

 

He turned his attention back to his notebook. The very same that Maybel caught him with, filled with notes on how to be like his brother. After the stunt he pulled the other day, he felt the pressure to be perfect heavier on his shoulders than ever. A man who is fantastic at his job could be forgiven for his other failings. A man who fucks up his responsibilities, and fucks up interpersonal relationships has no chance. 

 

Cheerful shouting and wooping emanated again from downstairs, breaking his concentration as soon as he channeled it in again. 

 

The notebook slammed shut in his hands. Hours of staring at it had added up and the thin thread of focus he had left gave out fully with the latest round of boisterous laughter that seemed to overpower every other sound. He slid down from his sitting potion to a completely horizontal one, and turned to the wall. It would’ve been nice if the bunks had windows, he mused. He closed his eyes. The nausea that clung to him since the summoning ritual had just waned sometime during the last two hours, but the fatigue had not gone away. Regardless of that, his mind was too restless to sleep. The thought of arriving at the arena they booked and watching everyone else move like a well oiled machine while he stood clueless made him feel like a fish out of water and it hadn’t even happened yet. 

 

It wasn’t long before there was another commotion from downstairs. Over the noise, he heard Phantom loudly telling the driver he was the ‘best driver who ever drove,’ and not five minutes later, he felt the bus turn and slow to a stop. Although they’d been on the bus for what felt like an eternity and a half, they couldn’t possibly have reached their destination. For the first time in hours, Luca crawled out of his bunk. He opened the door to the small seating area up front and looked out the window only to find they were pulled up right beside some dingy looking shithole called Pizza Castle. It must have been the only restaurant open for miles, cause it was busy even after midnight. He soon saw Maybel push open the door with her back, arms laden with way more pizza boxes than they could’ve possibly needed. 

 

He didn’t need to see her enter the bus, as it was happily announced by the rowdy ghouls shouting pizza! at the top of their lungs. The greasy smell of cheese, pepperoni and oregano wafted up the stairs in short order- it seemed to call his name, with the call amplified by his empty stomach. He wasn’t sure when he last ate, but it wasn’t today. Maybe not even yesterday. No, he remembered. He did pop some hot peppers and a few berries he passed in the garden off the plants and into his mouth yesterday. But certainly not the day before, which was the first day after the whole murder ordeal. He’d not have been able to stomach a single cracker even if he tried, that day. The bus lurched as it started rolling once more, and his stomach growled at the enticing scent of food. 

 

Fuck it. 

 

With some trepidation at how he’d be received, he carefully descended the stairs. 

 

When he stepped off the last stair it felt like one of those movies where the dance or just stops when the main character walks in. Everyone turned to look at him with varying degrees of surprise. One of them even had a pizza slice in their hand, halfway up to their mouth, with a string of cheese with a pepperoni attached slowly sliding off until it fell onto their lap. 

 

Dew snickered. “No way, guys, Muhammad Ali is here! Watch out for those hands!” He earned several snorts of laughter from the others, except the newest. By now, all of them but Haze knew the story of what happened the other day in detail- it was no secret that a blow from V had started the ordeal. 

 

Maybel elbowed the ghoul. 

 

Luca schooled his face into neutrality. This was about the reception he expected. Refusing to show any signs of being bothered, he countered.  “Hm. You are thinking of my brother.” He knew good and well that he wasn’t, and the jab was directed at him, but he kept running his mouth in opposition to the fire ghoul who had yet to resist giving him a hard time for one single day.  “That old boxing robe and pair of gloves displayed back at the church do say Papa IV on the back.” 

 

Now, the snickering was directed back at Dew. 

 

Maybel determinately caught Luca’s eye. “Ignore them Lukie, why don’t you come grab some pizza and sit down?” Intentionally using the nickname that seemed to soften him each time she’d used it, she pointed to the stack of pizza boxes and pile of cheap paper plates beside them. 

 

“Lukie?!” Cirrus giggled and raised her eyebrows at the woman. 

 

“If she calls you Lukie can we call you that too then?” Phantom smirked. 

 

If looks could kill, then maybe he really would be a murderer. “No.” 

 

Physically closing off opportunities for further conversation down that route, he turned away from the group and to the counter that was covered with the food someone had just bought. He separated one of the shitty, barely sturdier than a napkin plates from the stack, flicked open the top pizza box, and slid one slice of pepperoni and two packets of red pepper flakes onto the plate. Satisfied that the ghouls had moved on by the lack of continued comments, he turned back to the room. Mismatched eyes scanned the seating for any available spot, but all the seats were taken and Aurora was even sitting on Phantom’s lap. 

 

“There’s room over there, Papa.” Haze smiled, and pointed to a small free space on the floor. “You could sit there.” 

 

Although he was tempted to take his food upstairs, safely away from all those who did not trust him- for his own comfort and theirs- he didn’t have the heart to reject his very first summon’s suggestion. It was literally her first day on earth, after all. He nodded once. Stepping gingerly over and between a maze of legs, he picked his way to the wall that separated the drivers compartment, slid down it, and folded his legs up to his chest in a spider-like fashion. He balanced the plate atop bony knees. 

 

Maybel, closest to the drink fridge, leaned aside and opened it. “You like Stella? Heineken? Guinness? Or uh…” she fished one last type of can out to read. “Absolut Berry Vodkarita?” She looked back at him as she waited for an answer. He couldn’t meet her eyes longer than a second. Not when he knew how little she thought of him. “Or are you a no alcohol kinda guy? There’s soda and water.” 

 

He’d had his fair share of beers, but the last drink he’d never heard of. Maybe the vodka in it would help slow his mind down so he could sleep. “Berry?” 

 

“Good choice.” She passed it down, and after exchanging hands a couple of times, the cold can reached him. 

 

There was a lull in the conversation and goofing off that had been going on before the new Papa came in. Everyone felt it. Nobody had any ideas to fix it. Luca felt several pairs of eyes watching him as he tore open the red pepper flake packets and poured them both on his plate beside the cheesy slice, and it prompted him to crack open the can and take a big swig of liquid social strength. 

 

“So….” Cirrus broke the silence. 

 

“So, when the fuck did you learn how to summon a ghoul?” Maybel filled in. 

 

He picked one pepperoni off his slice, dipped it in the red pepper flakes so they’d stick to the greasy disk, and popped it in his mouth. “I just read the ritual text.” He replied nonchalantly without looking up from his plate as he picked off another pepperoni.

 

The ghouls and Maybel all looked at each other, all thinking the same thing. Maybel voiced it. “People don’t just wake up one day and summon a ghoul like it’s nothing! And the text is in advanced Latin, shit like google translate would not be accurate enough for at all. And the sigils have to be perfect.” 

 

He looked up to find every eye still on him. It felt like they were waiting for his every syllable but not in a good way. “You had me read books about how sigils work. And I can read and understand Latin quite well, so….” He ate the last pepperoni off his slice, covering it in red pepper flakes before putting it in his mouth, just like the others.

 

“Do you know other languages too?” Haze asked with genuine interest. Rain grabbed three more slices of pizza which he distributed to his neighbors. 

 

Luca took another sip of his drink. “Passable at Spanish.” He followed his answer with peeling the entire layer cheese off of his pizza, laying it in the red pepper flakes, and tearing off a bite sized piece to stuff into his mouth. 

 

Maybel finished off the beer can she held, and tapped her fingers on it with repeated clicks. “So you can sing and do music, you know multiple languages, you can fix motorcycles, you can summon a ghoul all by yourself, what can you not do?” 

 

He cleared his throat with a cough, and paused to think. “I can’t swim.”

 

“Pffft!” Phantom slapped his hands over his mouth. “Sorry, I just expected you to say some shit like ‘I can’t construct a steel suspension bridge,’ or something more elaborate like that.”

 

“Hm.” He was more interested in tearing off another segment of half melted cheese than responding.

 

Dew stared unabashedly as the man picked apart his food, with his nose bunched up with disapproval. Phantom’s gaze followed his displeased look, and soon, his face matched it.

 

“Dismembering a pizza like that should be illegal.” Phantom complained, though his tone was light. 

 

“It really should. Never in my life have I seen someone do that.” Mountain agreed with some amusement, shaking his head. 

 

“Sorry.” Luca mumbled, but his tone was uncaring.

 

“Why do you do that, anyway?” The rhythm guitarist asked, still watching the man work on eating his slice in fascination. 

 

“Makes it last longer.” 

 

“There’s more pizza, you can just get another piece, you know.” 

 

Green and white eyes looked up to the ghouls. “I wasn’t able to in the past. Habit.” 

 

“Oh! I have an idea! Cirrus clapped her hands and scooted forward in her seat. “We can play one of those ice breaker games, so our new friend can get to know everyone better. Never have I ever, or two truths and a lie?” 

 

A chorus of approvals came from the group, distracting them from Luca’s eating habits, much to his relief. He finished off his slice quickly while they chattered and debated the better game. A full belly and the warmth of alcohol going through his veins settled him, and he wrapped his arms around warm sweatpant clad legs. 

 

Eventually, the group settled on two truths and a lie. Popular vote decided Cirrus should go first, as the one who suggested the game, and they’d go clockwise from there.

 

 “Haze, do you know the game? Whoever’s turn it is will say two statements that are true, and one that is a lie, but you tell it like it’s true, and the rest of us have to guess which is the lie.” Cirrus explained. “So for my turn, I will say, my favorite country to visit is Germany. I had no idea what a keytar was before I was assigned to work with the band project. And, I’d rather die than eat a hot dog.”

 

“Keytar is the lie.” Maybel said right off the bat, complete with a point towards the ghoulette as a demonstration of her certainty. 

 

“No, Germany. She loves the wine and pastries from France.” Aurora crossed her arms and raised her chin. “I know my girl.” 

 

With a laugh, Cirrus admitted that Aurora was correct. “She’s right, my favorite place to visit is actually France. Haze, you’re next.”

 

“I don’t think I have enough to say. But I’ll try. Um. I have three sisters. Our dark lord once told me I would be summoned to the surface by someone he had big plans for-“ 

 

If Luca had poseable ears, he would’ve raised them. Instead, he just furrowed his brow beneath his mask. After a second, he shook his head to himself. Strange demon creatures sought him out to be the pope-rockstar. Who was he to question that a literal god was aware of his existence and had plans for him? Why the hell not. If it’s true, it’s true, and he’d figure out the plans eventually. If not, then he’d still be where he is now. 

 

“-and… my father was one of Papa I’s ghouls.” 

 

“I’m gonna be honest I have no fuckin idea.” Aurora said. She crossed one leg over the other and leaned back against Phantom. 

 

“Me either,” Maybel agreed, but she leaned forward to rest her elbow on her leg and her chin in her hand to look at Haze intently as if the answer could be seen if she squinted. 

 

Dew cut in. “Probably the one about fuckin’ V. There can’t have been big plans or he wouldn’t have gotten fuckin’ lost or thrown away or whatever the fuck happened with him for like, fifty years or however old him and C are. He’d have been protected and properly prepared for what he needed to do.” 

 

Maybel frowned, Luca clenched his teeth then took another drink, and the rest of the ghouls murmured an agreement with the fire ghoul. 

 

“No, that one is true! The lie was that I have sisters, actually, I have brothers.” The new ghoulette corrected happily. “Maybel, right?” She asked the woman beside her. “Your turn.” 

 

She obliged quickly, having been planning her statements since the game started. “I almost became a pilot but I got pissed at an ex and didn’t want to be in the same field as him so I became a bishop. I have a tattoo I never showed anyone on my hip. I can’t stand anything raspberry flavored.”

 

Several oohs filled the lounge. “Damn, that’s a hard one-“ Cirrus trailed off as they heard Luca speak quietly to his plate of crumbs from his massacred pizza.

 

“You put raspberry syrup in your coffee twice during the week I arrived here. The last one is the lie.” He finished the can of vodkarita. It was sweet, and strong, for something in a can, and his limbs were beginning to feel pleasantly heavy.

 

The woman’s eyebrows raised in surprise. She didn’t remember what she ate for breakfast. The week Luca arrived felt like ages ago. The man must pay more attention to her than she realized. “How the fuck- yeah, he’s right. I actually do like raspberry.” 

 

The game continued on, with Rain and Mountain, both of whom unsurprisingly did not have anything too juicy to say. Next in line was V, but unlike the others, nobody verbally acknowledged it was his turn. Everyone simply got quiet and looked to where he had compressed himself into the small space on the floor, waiting to see if he would participate. 

 

The man’s eyes scanned the room on wheels, and he wetted his lips. If they were waiting for some kind of incriminating confession, they weren’t gonna get it. “Ehm. I once paid Willie Nelson for a beer and some food with an armadillo. I worked on an egg farm full of battery hens, for a time. When I was a small child I wanted to be a bat when I grew up, and marry a deer.” 

 

“…what the fuck?” Dew said in a half whisper that kicked off a full round of disbelieving giggles from everyone. 

 

“Calling bullshit. All lies.” Rain wagered with a half-grin. 

 

“I vote you never worked with chickens.” One ghoul said. 

 

“Yeah, no hens.” Came from another. 

 

“No. Actually… ah, shit, I fucked it up. Blame it on the vodka. They’re all true.” 

 

Phantom scooted to the front of the cushion he was sitting on, causing Aurora to nearly fall to the ground off of him. Laughing, he pointed to the new Papa. “Bitch! That’s cheating, you have to try again.” 

 

“I already gave you three.” He protested. 

 

“But no lie, we couldn’t guess, do it again.”

 

“Fine. Ehm, a guy in Nebraska gave me my bike cause I figured out how to turn it on and he couldn’t. I served the governor of New York a bagel. I used to be a catholic priest.” 

 

“Ain’t no way you were a catholic priest and ended up the fuckin’ satanic pope. Too easy. Lie.” 

 

“No, that one’s true! He told me before.” Maybel contested. “It’s gotta be the bagel one, I could see the first one being true, he does some weird shit to turn it on.” 

 

“What!?” Phantom’s jaw dropped. 

 

“Wait, really?” Aurora and Cirrus said at the same time. 

 

Dew looked smug, and spoke matter of factly, like he had it all figured out. “Ha! Of course you were. So you’re some kind of spy. You work for the opponent. That’s suspicious as hell. A catholic priest, a leader, just changing his mind and switching sides? Don’t think so.” 

 

Luca got to his feet and glared. After his parting with the old church, just thinking about still being somehow involved with them burned. Sticking around to protest and try to defend himself against the fire ghoul who couldn’t make it any more clear he wanted him gone would only end in an argument or interrogation, and neither would be productive. He was tired, and tired of fighting this ghoul, anyway. He climbed over the tangle of legs filling the path, stuffed his flimsy plate and empty can in the trash, and headed for the stairs. “I will not be associated with any Christian church for the remainder of my life. Good night.” At least if he went to bed now, before the alcohol cleared his system, it might help him fall asleep. 

 

“Wait so which one is the lie?” Phantom called after him, with no answer. 

 

The hasty retreat meant that he didn’t hear the bishop he was so fond of shooting down the ghoul’s accusations.