ooc: dream
When she enters the cathedral, she knows she is safe.
Despite the looming walls, decorated with overbearingly large stained glass windows depicting angels being raped, the lion ripping apart the lamb, and Eve strangled to death by the serpent, she is not scared. Her heels click loudly on the black marble floor, the color trying to drain the hundreds of red candles lit throughout the nave of their feeble orange light as she walks to the choir. She passes the few mannequins who have also sought salvation, slumped on the pews with their wrists tied to their neck as if they were praying.
She walks an unbearably long time, yet the altar stays the same distance away, the holy virgin Mary extending her beautiful white arms, her dark hair hidden beneath the veil and halo that adorns her head, the crossed scars on her chest showing angrily through her ripped robes. The marks make the girl hurt, want to reach out and comfort her, but she was too far away.
At least she could be contented that, pacing behind the altar, the angel Michael keeps his vigilance, the bright red of his long hair visible even the dark shadows of the ambulatory. A flicker of flame and smoke accompany his step, ashes falling behind him carelessly. The girl thinks that, for an angel, he is a little messy.
A sudden noise behind her startles her, her wings extending from her back as she turns. Yelling, angry voices are drifting from the entrance, the words indecipherable but menacing.
Stalking between the pews and upsetting the mannequins, a large beast blends in and out of the shadows, following beside her. She cannot make out its details, except for the glowing red eyes that burn trails of color into her vision, the distorted muzzle of a dog barely holding back the low growls that echoes up to the vaulted ceilings.
She is beyond relieved that he is present, legs buckling under her just as the doors break open, spraying splinters of wood that are crushed under the heavy boots of the dark soldiers. They bring the cold, the wind extinguishing the candles and causing her to shiver, her beautiful dress tattered into a flimsy white slip, her shoes melting until her feet are barefoot and raw. She can't call out to the dog because her voice is gone, but the dog seems to know, its large form wispy and fluid as it rises in front her, bigger and menacing and bearing teeth that could crush a humans head far too easily.
Tears fall from her eyes, because the girl knows the dog will be hurt, when the dog has already been hurt too much.