Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. Who: Eric and Melody Where: St. Francis of Assisi Catholic Church What: NO BLOODSUCKING, THAT'S FOR SURE.
All members of every politically-inclined vampire family and then some were incensed at the sheer stupidity of some of their own kind. Scarlet Oak’s resident cardinal vicar was among them. When he had read this morning’s new, including the new curfew, he had to throw the newspaper halfway across the room before he could compose himself enough to take the necessary actions. He had already literally flung the doors of the church wide open when the phone call came. It was the house in Italy, making sure that he was playing the political game properly. He confirmed that he was as they asked him why on earth there were so many dead people in Scarlet Oak. He had no answer for that and made a lame excuse to get off the phone before he was forced to confess his own sins to his house. He wasn’t sure they would be as forgiving as Christ was. They let him go and Eric breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the ‘click’.
Wearing his priestly best, he swept into the church’s main hall in his black cassock with red trim, soothing parishioners’ fears when they came and patiently explaining the situation to those that tried to dump holy water in his face, expecting to see him melt. Overall, however, it was a quiet afternoon spent in holy prayer. He heard confessions and held the shaking hands of a 90-year old as she worried about her grandchildren, one of whom had been recently turned. As the lunch hour passed, Eric excused himself for a drink. When he came back out, there were a few heads down in prayer and others just sitting, staring at the saints. He chose a pew close to the entrance of the church and let his own prayers be heard, as he made yet another silent confession of his sins.
Melody, of course, was being... Melody. Aware, but damned impossible to rattle. She spent a good chunk of the morning glued to the news and texting her siblings, but her hands never wavered as she spooned Fruit Loops into her mouth. Many of her appointments for the day canceled, and she was perfectly understanding. Best to stay put today. Don’t worry about it! We can reschedule. Be safe! So did she follow her own advice?
Of course not.
She had an appointment of her own. Some time ago she’d gotten a call from a vicar - an actual vicar, who’da thunk it? - who wanted to discuss the possibilities of a recording for... something. She hadn’t really gotten a ton of details from him. They simply set a date for Melody to come talk to him at his church. Which, really, didn’t make a ton of sense to Melody. Better for him to come to the studio, but nooo. Who was she to argue with a man of God? She drove her happy ass to the church, and was perfectly on time as she walked through the doors and looked around for her appointment. She’d only ever spoken to him on phone. What exactly did a vicar look like? Hm.
When she entered through the front doors, it nearly gave him a heart attack. Thank God for two things: one, he couldn’t really get a heart attack anymore; and two, it wasn’t who he had thought it was. For a crazy half-second there, he had mistaken the newest churchgoer to be Kendal Hathaway, self-proclaimed serpent woman. All these years, he had known that, like God, the devil transcended gender but Eric had always naturally envisioned him as a man. Well, that was the case until two days ago when he had met temptation in the flesh. Yes, he had found several women attractive, especially in his early days but he had eyes, had he not? Nevertheless, he had never taken blood by force (and despite memory telling him she had asked for it, he still considered it forceful) and she had just egged him on and he had fallen for it.
Banishing all thoughts of the other girl from his mind, he rose to greet the newcomer. A kindly smile planted itself on his face as he scanned his memory bank for recognition. No, she wasn’t a regular parishioner or she would be easy to remember. She still somehow reminded him of Kendal but they were clearly very different people. He was simply obsessing now. “Good afternoon,” he said in his best calm voice. “Welcome to the Church of St. Francis. I am Reverend Eric,” he held out his hand in that rather ambiguous way he had perfected where she was welcome to kiss his ring if that was her inclination or shake his hand if she wasn’t familiar with the former tradition. Troubled times brought even disbelievers and non-Catholics to Mother Church and she would accept them all.
Melody probably would have died of shock if she knew that people still kissed rings in America. And then would have wanted to see it for proof. She’d been taking an admiring look around the church when the reverend approached - she bet churches had amazing acoustics, God, she would have loved to hear that - and when he distracted her from her thoughts, she pasted a bright smile on her face. “Pleasure to meet you, Reverend,” she greeted, politely shaking his hand with a firm grip. She wasn’t sure if her etiquette was correct - honestly, when was the last time a Hathaway stepped foot in a church? - but she’d try. “I’m Melody Hathaway. I have an appointment with the Reverend Father Gallego?” So many titles. She was bound to screw this up eventually.
Ah, she wasn’t Catholic. Eric shrugged internally. All the better, if the Church was attracting more people, it was good news. His smiled widened at her greeting and then became stiff at the name. He tried his best not to twitch. He hoped he succeeded. He masked his discomfort with a shake of the head and a wondering look at the mention of his predecessor’s name. “It is lovely to meet you, Miss Hathaway,” he answered. “But I’m afraid you are a little late. Father Mark has been transferred to the Diocese of Phoenix in Arizona.” Eric reflected on the fact that he probably should have read Gallego’s notes a little more carefully. Then again, he had naturally assumed that the Cyri had briefed him on everything he needed to know. Clearly, they had not thought a meeting with a Hathaway was important.
He released her hand and brought both his in a casual clasp in front of his cassock. “Is it anything I can assist you with? I am the new vicar of the diocese, perhaps it is something I can take care of just as well as Father Mark,” he nodded. He contemplated asking her if there was another set of Hathaways in the city but the facial similarities were striking enough without Eric needing to ask the obvious question. And, really, it was an improper question considering the setting. Asking after one’s heritage was acceptable in a bar but less so in a church where everyone was supposed to be equal.
Melody could have sworn she detected the slightest hint of... well, something at her name. She thought about asking about it, then realized a moment later he probably knew her mother. Donating to a church sounded like something she would do. It absolved her of having to go, right? In her world, probably.
She grinned upon learning her appointment was no longer there. Apparently vicars didn’t worry about things like canceling appointments. Not that she was upset, and anyway, how would he have known their appointment would have fallen on the date of the supposed vampire apocalypse? Oh well. “I don’t even know what it is he wanted,” she admitted. “I own a recording studio, and he had wanted to talk about the possibility of recording something. Does your church have a choir?”
Leave it to the empty-brained priest to not have cancelled his appointment. In Eric’s humble opinion, the man should have been given the Church’s blessing to retire and spend the rest of his days teaching or sleeping. But, then again, Eric was over a hundred years old and still said Mass with no intention of stopping, so who was he to judge? “Perhaps he left a note in his daily calendar,” Eric suggested. “Would you mind joining me in my office?” he asked politely. Most people didn’t mind but others had issues with being in private, confined spaces with vampires. Eric couldn’t say he necessarily blamed them.
Gesturing towards a side door, Eric looked at her inquisitively before venturing finally venturing forth with a very innocent statement. “Your family is very well-known for their support of our cause. We are infinitely grateful for their trust in us,” he began. “How is your family?” He could have said parents, but that would have involved having him ask after her siblings. Hopefully, she would include her entire family in her response. It wasn’t a crime against man or God to make sure he hadn’t killed anyone, right? RIGHT?
Truthfully, Melody was kind of pumped to be meeting the vampire priest. He was something of a minor celebrity, right? Well, it had been a big deal when he came to Scarlet Oak. Priests were apparently of a much more handsome stock than the current issues. “Sure thing,” she smiled, giving a little nod of her head to let him lead the way.
His inquiry as to her family only confirmed her earlier guess. And oh boy, was he asking the wrong Hathaway! “I checked in with everybody this morning; we’re all well, thank you.” Her parents had asked if Melody would feel safer staying with them until things boiled over, and she had politely pointed out that vampires couldn’t enter the home of a mortal without permission. She hadn’t been able to tell if they were relieved or disappointed that she wouldn’t be joining them. “My little sister didn’t even know things in town were wonky, but I think everybody will be staying in and staying safe.” No, the fact that she said this while she herself was out and about was not lost on Melody. No, she did not care.
Okay, Eric had to be honest with himself. He knew she wasn’t dead. He had made sure of that before he’d left her in her bed. But he was curious as to her well-being. And it didn’t seem like she told anyone that the priest had been the one to bite her, so that was good news. Melody didn’t even seem to know that she had been bitten. Which was better news. Hallelujah.
He walked towards the door leading away from the main hall and slipped through it. His office was a turn and a half away from the main hall. He opened the door to enter and left it open for Melody to follow. He went immediately to his desk and rifled through the drawer full of the old priest’s things that he hadn’t bothered to clean out. Locating the former vicar’s daily planner, he pulled it out and flipped to the current date. “There it is,” he announced. “One o’clock, Melody Hathaway, music producer. Well, that was about as informative as the surgeon general’s warning on a box of cigarettes. I suppose it might have been about our choir...Father Mark had very lofty ideas about trying to make the diocese a little more popular,” he told Melody. He had no intentions of doing a recording, but he would listen to what she had to say anyway. “What is your opinion on the matter?” Okay, most open-ended question in the world, but, hey. He was just as lost as she was.
Melody snickered faintly as she took a seat at the other side of the desk, casually looking around. A person’s office could give great insight as to what sort of person they were. The vampire priest’s office looked like... well, probably any other priest’s office. Nothing absurdly ancient looking, no vials of blood laying around. She looked back to the reverend at his question, lightly raising an eyebrow. Did he really just ask for her opinion? Oh boy. Well. He asked for it.
“I think any attempts at making the church more popular are a bit needless. If that was important, I’d say it was achieved the day it gained a vampire priest.” Blunt and to the point! That was Melody’s style. “But I’m going to guess a lot of what you’re getting now are tourists, and if you’re looking for conversions, your novelty wouldn’t be enough to reign those in. I’d hope not, anyway. Someone who converts just because they dig vampires might be a little... phony. You could look at other ways of making the church more appealing to keep them coming back - if such a thing is necessary. It doesn’t exactly seem like the church is hurting for believers right about now.”
Eric had to keep his office fairly neat. He had kept all of the furniture Father Mark had left behind, including the oak desk and the matching shelves. It made for fairly modest quarters, but that was all a priest really needed anyway. Eric was a bit obsessive about arranging things so his books were all neatly alphabetized by author. His desk was clean except for a miniature crucifix and a lamp. He tried not to leave paperwork around for security reasons. Other than that, the chairs were comfortable and the room itself was supposed to be designed to allow anyone to pour their hearts out to him. He folded his hands on the table as he listened to her response.
“I would hate to have wasted your time, Miss Hathaway,” he said graciously, opening his palms to the sky. “I know our choir has a wonderful voice and tone but I have to agree that I don’t necessarily think they should become recording artists. I haven’t had many converting for the vampirism, though I’ve had a few leave.” Everyone who wanted to get close to a vampire simply went to Heme. There was no need to pretend to be religious to get that kind of attention. “Thank you for your honesty,” he added. He would imagine other producers would have insisted on making a recording, just to tap into the church’s coffers.
Melody was quite proud to not be that kind of producer. She was in it for the music, always would be. She gave up everything for it, it would have been absolutely retarded to go only for the money now. If she wanted money, she would have played by her parents rules. “You can always count on that from me,” she said, shrugging. “Though I will mention, a lot of bands like to have a choir backing on the particularly epic tracks. I could keep them in mind. I’d love to come check them out sometime, anyway. Just for fun.” Maybe for laughs she’d ask Kendal to go along. Wait, no, bad idea. Kendal would step foot in a church and burst into flame.
I think the choir will appreciate it. “They perform at different times throughout the week. I’m not always sure of their schedule,” he should probably have a list of that, but the choirmaster was their boss and decided when and where. “They always perform during the youth Sunday Mass,” he shrugged. “Five-thirty in the afternoon on Sundays,” he informed her. The choir was honestly not a big deal in Eric’s books. Perhaps he would pay a little more attention to them from now on. “Is there anything I can help you with while you are here, Miss Hathaway?” he asked. Confession? Blessing? Religious icon? Bloodletting? Eric hit himself mentally. Not appropriate, Cardinal Vartan. Sit down and shut up.