Excerpt from "Visions" (ISBN 978 - 1 - 60477 - 032 - 2)

His hands trembled uncontrollably. He looked at the envelope in the vain hope that it was addressed to someone else. No. It was his name all right. "Father Ignatius" it said in the same capital letters.

Obviously someone who knew him, or knew of him, was very angry to want to threaten his life.

 

The knock at the door made Father Ignatius jump out of his skin. He shoved the letter in his pocket and stood there trembling uncontrollably again.

Whoever it was knocked hard once again. Out of sheer stupidity, or perhaps because he was no longer focusing properly, the priest opened the door more as a reflex reaction to the knocking than anything else.

There standing on the doorstep was the biggest man he’d ever seen. He was well over six feet tall with broad shoulders like a rugby player. The young man in his early twenties towered above the priest. He had long scruffy dark hair and a fresh wound just above his eyelid. He was wearing dirty blue jeans and red sleeveless T-shirt revealing strong well-developed muscular arms covered in tattoos. He looked as if he could kill a person with one finger.

 

Half an hour later, when the last of the congregation had gone, Father Ignatius entered the church which was now silent once again. He turned off the main lights leaving just the one light on by the Sacristy door. The church was quite dark now, except for the flames from the candles on the Altar and by the statues in the side aisles. The smell of incense still lingered in the air. He looked at his watch and made his way to the front pew by the statue of the Virgin Mary. He knelt down and for a short while looked pensively at the flames dancing gently on the votive candles. The slightest breeze made the flames move backwards and forwards like synchronised ballerinas on a stage. 

He’d been praying for half an hour or so when he heard the door at the back of the church open and then shut again with a soft thud as the spring pushed it back to its original position. He waited for the footsteps which would normally accompany such an occurrence but none were forthcoming.

He looked towards the back of the church but he could see no one in the darkness. The door was partly concealed by the confessional and a large statue of St Peter, so it could be possible that someone came in and was standing by the door hidden from view. On the other hand, someone could have opened the door, looked in, and finding the church empty just went away.

He decided to stay where he was and continue with his prayers. A few minutes later he heard footsteps at the back of the church. There was obviously someone there. His blood ran cold!

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© Copyright V Moubarak 2007