for priestly_demon

[hardhitter_nj]

From here

"That does sound awful," Remiel said, patronizing him slightly. Most of his attention was on Michael, rather than what he was saying, watching him fight his way to the inevitable slumber. As the young man mumbled the last question, and both eyes were finally closed, the Grigori smiled. "Oh, undoubtedly. Very real indeed." His tone was

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[priestly_demon]

After Michael had sat there, at the foot of the tortured Christ, for a little while, the shadow of the cross lengthened in front him. Unlike a normal shadow, the came into sharp focus so that the outline of Christ was so realistic. Very slowly, the shadow began to take form, shifting from black to more real tones. Before long, there seemed to be a real person standing in front of Michael.

With long hair, a beard, and still wearing a crown of thorns, the figure smiled kindly at the young man, and he went to sit on the bench. "What has you so troubled?"

[hardhitter_nj]

"Hail Mary, full of grace. Our Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen." It was the all purpose prayer of his childhood and a staple of the Church, that he heard when he realized that he was praying aloud

[priestly_demon]

Sitting easily on the bench, his bloodied feet squarely on the ground only inches from where Michael was lying with such reverence. He made no gesture or word for the young man to rise, seeming content to let him lie there.

As Michael began to cry, he appeared to take pity on him, signalling him to join him. "Are you certain of that, Michael?" Gently, he place his hand on his shoulder as again a woman's light laughter sounded, although no one else could be seen. And he took no notice. "How do you know that creature was demonic?"

[hardhitter_nj]

The left cuff of Michael's shirt was stained with the blood from brushing against feet as he finally made it to a sitting position. He was in shock from his own sudden outburst, but not from, strangely enough, Christ's living corpse speaking to him. Small mercies that he wasn't babbling incoherently when he finally replied.

"I know what I saw. No one person or thing who defames your image like that, can possibly be angelic or good, my Lord." He stared straight ahead, focused until his attention taken away by the sound of feminine laughter. When no culprit was seen, he breathed deeply. "I mean in what possible world, was what I saw, a good being?"