Excerpt: Angel of Death (Working Title)

Father Natale was woken suddenly from sleep by a soul shattering scream that seemed to echo endlessly through the church. He scrambled out of his chair with a start, and not a thought for his aching muscles. He ran into the sanctuary, and glanced toward the altar. What he saw there about broke his heart and threatened to fracture his sanity beyond repair. There crawling up the few steps up to the altar proper was a figure covered in mud, her clothing ripped and ragged, the stench of death and decay hung so heavily on her that it overpowered the usual smell of frankincense that filled the cavernous room. Something seemed not right about this person, a woman he gathered from what was left of her dress, her body seemed odd. When she reached out a hand with all the desperation of a drowning man he realized what, her hand was horrifically mangled as if many of its bones had been crushed. She was screaming, the primal language of the most powerful of human emotions. There was something familiar about her, it teased the back of Father Natale’s mind, the sheer horror that filled him prevented him from right away making the connection. The he saw a rosary, wrapped around that mangled hand, unmistakable despite the mud that covered it, the green onyx beads stood out clearly amidst the brown mud. It was the rosary he had given Eve as a gift one year, a family heirloom he had passed down to the daughter of his spirit if not his flesh.
“Oh most holy mother in Heaven have mercy……this can’t be.” He whispered before rushing to the altar. With the utmost care he took the broken and screaming girl into his arms. “Eve, Eve, it’s alright now girl. It’s alright.”