“Sir, we’ve already told you. We are doing everything we can to find your daughter. You need to let us do our job.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem like you’re doing it very well. It’s been days, and you have yet to make any progress.”
‘You’re a man of God, right sir? Well, God took seven days to make the universe. He could’ve done it in an instant, correct? But he took his time to make sure he did it right. Give us time sir. We want to find her as much as you do, and we’re doing everything we can.”
“You are in no place to quote scripture to me. Find her. I need to pray.”
He stormed out of the door to the large FBI building, trying to seem irritated. They didn’t know anything. A smile crept across his face as he thought about their lack of progression with this investigation. This is surely going to be one of those cold cases. They will never find her. He made sure of that. The engine to his old truck sputtered to life and he drove to the church.
The large doors creaked when he opened them. The candles around the holy premises gave everything an eerie, yet comforting glow. He tilted his hat to the wax image of Christ on the cross.
“Sir.”
The priest made his way to the back of the room, slipped into a door invisible to any church-goers, and locked it behind him. He lit a lantern on the wall, illuminating the room. Against the wall was his daughter’s remains, scattered in ritualistic patterns. Designs, drawn from her blood, were scrawled on the walls and floor. He kneeled before the skeleton, assembles of her bones, and began chanting in an ancient language. The chalice filled with a combination of blood and spices hummed. Slowly, its contents began to whirl.
“I have done what you asked. Now, grant me my request. Grant me immortality.”
A voice rumbled out of the chalice, warped and inhuman.
“You have. Your wish is granted. For the life of your daughter, I have ensured the lasting of yours. Use it wisely; this is irreversible.”
“Shut up and give it to me already!”
“.....as you wish..”
A hand, formed of the blood he spilt into the cup, reached up and closed around the priest’s throat. It strangled him, letting him drop to the floor. Then, the chalice knocked itself over, spilling over the fresh body. The contents soaked into every one of his pores, invaded his mouth; it filled every available orifice. Once there was no blood left to absorb, the body twitched. Once, then twice. The priest gasped air, sprawling his limbs in all directions. His stood up. leaned against the wall, and breathed. With every breath he took in, he felt better, stronger. He felt younger. Alive. A crooked smile covered his face while he cleaned up the room, clearing it of its dark decor. No one would know.