1 : The Estranged Ghoul

It began on the suspenseful countdown to midnight. The ethereal moon was only a half but navy wisps of cloud clung to it like it was there to sustain their life-force, towering over the city of London like some threatening, blatant foresight. The streets were still fairly occupied by the oblivious masses despite the approach to the dead of night, some could say it was normal for a winter night in November... 

Until hundreds of devout, hooded, robed and masked worshippers poured from two narrow streets - streets that were far too small for such a large volume of beings. Most of them appeared to be overly excited from experiencing their exclusive ritual. Others walked as if nothing had ever occurred at all, which didn’t last too long as they realized their efforts of discretion were in vain and they became disgruntled by the excitable body language of their companions. The brothers and sisters were an array of heights as they swarmed through to the wider streets of the city, filling any vacant space the pavement could provide. No single one of them was completely distinguishable, some wore their upside-down crosses around their necks, others adorned plain robes with no embellishments to draw attention.

Despite the gloomy, obsidian pack they were, no one seemed to bat an eye as they walked in tandem. Then again, perhaps they did and were too stunned to show any kind of reaction.

After quite the walk, many of the worshippers split off into groups, the odd one turning a corner into a darkly lit alley. As the city grew dense with fast-food joints, the rest of the large bulk rushed towards the nearest restaurant, in search of a quick meal after the almost three hour ceremony they had just attended.

As more parted, the remaining attendees seemed to become distinguishable compared to the black-robed mob that had finally dispersed. One particular figure stood out from the rest: they appeared to be completely alone, side-glancing all of the other worshippers around them like they were counting them all, or wishing they hadn’t got to walk on their own. They wore a chrome Ghoul mask, the stark light from the street lamps above them vividly reflecting in every crevice. Instead of robes they were clad in a formal shirt, open waistcoat and polished shoes, all of which were black. Their shape was slight but may have been an illusion from the slim clothes they were wearing. 

From their demeanour, they didn’t appear to be famished or full of heightened energy like most of the others had been. They paced with purpose but they kept their head down, like they were attempting to avoid the cold air invading the inside of their mask. They sensed the presence of their fellow congregants fade as they strayed further and further into the lively city, each of their steps becoming that little bit quicker. They crossed their arms over to rub each of their shoulders as a slicing breeze caught hold of them. 

The chill of November was teeth-clenching, seeping into anything that dared to keep warm. Frost was starting to coat the glistening slabs beneath the soles of their shoes, inciting their grip to become ever more careful as they continued on. The Ghoul was starting to become a little more aware of their surroundings, being forced to stop due to a road intersecting the path in front of them; black cabs with orange vacancy lights glowing passed intermittently with other blurs of traffic as people lined the curb-side in anticipation of the lights changing. A subdued roar of people was burbling across the road and the Ghoul seemed a little uncomfortable, clearly realizing the sound was likely coming from the direction they were headed.

As soon as the whirr of vehicles stopped and the lights signalled that it was safe for pedestrians to cross, the Ghoul practically skipped over the slippy tarmac, desperate to keep away from the strangers that had been by their side. They settled into a slight jog, the placement of their feet of greatest importance as the pavement seemed to feel even more slippy. Now that the street was bustling with life, they seemed determined to bypass anyone and everything in their path, feeling the sharp, speculative eyes piercing into the back of their head once they had passed.

There was a faint glow of royal blue on the horizon and that appeared to calm the Ghoul as their jog slowed into a more natural pace. They appeared to know exactly where they were, and they were indifferent about the number of people brushing by their shoulders. The Ghoul raised their eyes to acknowledge the thick purple sky above them. It was uncertain why they were studying the sky so intricately, especially to prioritise it over looking in the direction they were still walking, but something must have been resolved in their mind for them to be at such ease. Even with the stares they were drawing, their demeanour was casual, like there was nothing surreal about how they were dressed - after all, had the people around them seen the streets not too far back, they would be outnumbered by Grucifix wielding cultists.

They lifted their head to focus on the place they were heading, people rushing by them like they were on a more important schedule. They could see the ominous glow of the underground station from the top of a steep set of stairs, which were mostly hidden from view except from a few metal railings which were framing the place from busy traffic. The blue and red sign above indicated its location, flickering in and out of rhythms. They quickened their walk slightly, not wanting to rush amongst the other people occupying the pavement.

As they neared their destination, their ears pricked up with interest. They'd caught the sound of something unusual. They cocked their head to the left so they could hear better with their right ear, their walking pace slowing back down, people muttering curses under their breath as they had to make a path around the masked individual. The sound of a familiar voice strained over the chatter of the public and general traffic passing by, but it was one that was unmistakable.

Their obscured eyes followed their sense of where the sound was coming from, and they landed on a black Rolls Phantom that had collided into a few bollards on their side of the road... bollards that were there to specifically block the access of vehicles. The hood of the car was completely crumpled and a deep incision trailed along its side, revealing the greying framework beneath. A few figures stood beside it, adorning similar masks to that of the Ghoul who was now stood in awe, hands stiff by their sides. One Ghoul they saw was hunched over with their hands either side their head in worry, the other seemingly stuck in a cycle of shrugging. They also caught a glimpse of another chrome mask. It was a Ghoulette still inside of the vehicle, seemingly fast asleep over one side of the backseats. The lone Ghoul focused upon the scene in fascination, and as a consequence, they were suddenly able to drown out the noise of the city and make out the familiar voice that they had been having difficulty hearing in the first place.

“ - hey, hey! You better not be trying to run away! You were the one driving, ok? What am I supposed to tell Papa, huh? This was a rental!”

They could only just see a slither of the man talking through the gaps between the thin stream of people heading into the tube station, but he was utterly distinguishable, even more so seeing as it hadn’t been long since the ritual.

The elusive Cardinal Copia was raising his arms up in the air with exasperated annoyance and disbelief, clearly whatever plans he’d previously had were now well-and-truly snuffed out. The Ghoul outside of the car - who he seemed to be aiming his rant at - kept turning up his palms and shaking his head like he had no idea what the problem was. 

“You got a phone on you?” the cardinal snapped, almost immediately letting out a moan of defeat. “Shit! Why am I asking you?! Of course you don’t, it’s not like you can speak!” 

He dramatically reached both gloved hands in the direction of the ground like he was aiming his frustration directly at Satan. 

“Fanculo!” he yelled, most passers-by now staring in silent, intimidated judgement, even though most hadn’t understood exactly what he’d said. 

He desperately looked about for something to at least aid his situation. It didn’t take him long to spot the stray Ghoul - who had quite clearly not been in the car with him - eerily stood by themselves on the pathway. He frowned in confusion, pointing like he was attempting to remember their name, even though Ghouls were prohibited from receiving such titles. When he started to walk in their direction, the Ghoul started forwards and immediately sped up their pace, checking over their right shoulder to ensure that neither the cardinal or the other Ghouls were following. 

“Wait!” the cardinal ordered, but it was an empty demand as they had already managed to reach the top of cross-hatched stairs, their legs stepping quickly and as carefully as they could without slipping. They continued down them, shivering as the warmth of stale air hit them, the dingy atmosphere of the subway engulfing them. It was claustrophobic even though it wasn’t busy at all, unlike the insufferable street above them. They eventually reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the station’s hub, their eyes scanning over the array of small businesses in nooks and crannies, which all had their shutters down. From the lack of noise, other than the muffled screech and rumble of trains in the distance, they presumed the cardinal had given up on pursuing them.

However, that didn’t stop their sense of urgency, and they marched through the hub, sliding a pass out of their pocket as they approached a set of turnstiles. They scanned their pass and successfully pushed through, entering a long, slanted descent of metal escalators. They immediately hurried over to step on board, standing in the middle of their allocated step despite many posters on the wall suggesting that they should have edged to the right to allow people by if they wished.

Their dark eyes gleamed with interest as they caught notice of the advertisements pasted on the wall to the left, the motor of the escalator echoing throughout the place. Various movies and stage shows were being advertised, and such things apparently caught the Ghoul’s attention easily, for they didn’t notice when they were no longer moving. It was quite a few seconds before they realized they’d come to the end of their journey, and they shook their head, swiftly turning to face forwards and step away from the bottom of the escalator.

Two choices of tunnels were laid out before them, the pale beige of the tiled walls reminding the Ghoul of something out of a grimy horror movie. They calmly and confidently followed the left tunnel, keeping their head down as a few people passed by them from the opposite direction. Once they exited the small tunnel, stale, hot air was blasted into their face and they were suddenly incredibly grateful for the mask they adorned.

To their surprise, once they turned out from the tunnel and arrived at their platform, there was a train waiting with its doors open, the strip lighting from the concrete ceiling above flickering ominously. They rushed across the width of the thick cement floor and hurtled into the middle carriage, glancing around in amazement... it was sparsely populated. The doors quickly slid closed after a series of beeps and the Ghoul quickly peered around the see if there was any room to sit. 

They were unaware of the discomfort of the few other passengers, who had their eyes glued to them in concerned distaste. There was a sleeping woman wrapped up in blankets, sprawled out over an entire row of seats and the Ghoul noticed that the others had clung to the edges of the carriage to likely avoid her. They decided to sit across from her, perching comfortably once they’d dusted off the seat. One man was glaring at the Ghoul from his place by one of the doors, latching his arm around a metal pole in preparation to keep still.

The train finally set into motion, which caused the passengers to jolt slightly before they were used to the force. An announcement of the next station echoed around the carriage as more stares settled on the masked Ghoul, the strip-lighting struggling to do its job before it all flashed back into life. The engine’s sound was like that of a blaring wind-up toy which grated on the Ghoul’s ears, their dark eyes narrowing at the blur of industrial concrete through the wide windows on the opposite side of the train.

They started to slump backwards in their seat slightly and closed their eyes, attempting to lean forwards again. With some effort they lowered their head down, their hands holding the sides of their mask to keep their head still. The motion of the train rocked them from side-to-side slightly and the passengers around them assumed that they were suffering from a form of motion sickness.

The assumptions of the passengers soon turned to horror as the Ghoul flinched, their head forcibly flicking to focus on something to their right. They stiffened their arms and placed their hands out flat over each of the seats beside them like they were attempting to steady themselves. Their breaths became heavy, like they were struggling for air... or gulping it up like they knew they would need to save it.

Their dark eyes widened at the vacant clearing in front of the doors they had entered not long ago, as an abnormal, pure black smoke caught their attention. It didn’t look real but they knew it was existent, and their body stiffened defensively to keep completely still. The black, fragmented vapour seemed to extend vertically in a swirling, subtle action, creating a thin, vacuous slit in the reality of the train before their very eyes.

In the space of half a second, the smoke silently dispersed and reassembled, and the Ghoul leaned forwards in fascination...

An ear-splitting shatter erupted out, an assault of cascading shadows pouring out of the abyss-like gap and filling the carriage to the brim, dozens upon dozens of wheezed whispers tormenting each passenger inside the carriage. Silence fell over the contents of the train until the only sound was the clattering of the wheels on the track beneath them. The woman who had been sleeping across from the Ghoul was paralysed in fear, staring at them like it was all their fault.

Everyone’s survival instinct was the same and they all clutched at their necks as if it would help them catch their breath. Some that had been standing ended up falling to their knees, and some forced themselves to cough out, hoping that there were some particles of oxygen to cling onto. It was hard to pinpoint what was exactly happening but everyone was in a state of silent panic, some deciding to wheeze or splutter in relief once an announcement rolled out of the tannoy system, explaining that they would soon be arriving at the next station.

The Ghoul’s dark eyes widened in concern now that the black smoke had begun to disperse to fill the length of the carriage, the shadowed-fingers of blackness creeping up to rest at knee-height. The sound of the train seemed deafening as the shadow-mass suddenly gathered itself together and fluidly flung itself at a person to the left, the Ghoul immediately facing away as the sound of tearing overrode the clattering sounds beneath them. 

The woman sat across from them wrestled into a sitting position, her face red from being forced to hold her breath. She shuffled slightly and turned her head to face the masked individual across from her. They returned the stare, the sounds of the passengers around them being devoured trying to tempt them into watching. They focused on each others eyes, the woman’s green irises glossing over with frightened tears, the ghoul’s almost black irises hardening with reassurance and determination. They abruptly started forwards across the width of the train’s aisle, holding a steady stance as they extended out a hand to her. 

The woman frowned and her eyes faltered as tears rolled down her cheeks, the strobe lighting bouncing from the water that shined over her irises. She jerked herself forwards and latched both of her hands around the Ghoul’s wrist. It appears that when in complete fear of their lives, humans overlook their anxiety of the strange and unknown in hopes that, in the end, they would survive.

As the stripping of flesh seemed to grow louder, the second announcement filled the otherwise silent carriage and the woman’s grip on the Ghoul grew tighter. Their eyes narrowed slightly as they nodded at her, like a silent form of preparation to run rather than the reassurance from before.

The train rolled to a stop and the black fog dispersed into nothing, evacuating whoever they had been feeding from just before the beep of the doors sounded out. The few survivors that were left heaved out an enormous breath, gasping desperately for air. The Ghoul was silent as they yanked the woman that was clinging to them in the direction that they were headed. She whimpered fearfully when they pulled her over to the door, where there was nothing but a few mangled scraps of flesh left. The Ghoul was ignoring their surroundings, deeply breathing in the oxygen still as they calmly pressed the illuminated button so that the door would open.

As soon as the door slid open, the Ghoul’s adrenaline kicked in and they bolted out of the train, dragging the stranger with them regardless of whether she wanted them to or not. They felt some resistance as the woman glanced back at the sight of the train they had just escaped, quietly murmuring in horror as the train doors slid shut, dark figures assembling in smoky wafts through the windows as they loudly nourished themselves on the few that hadn’t been so lucky to escape. 

As the woman let out a loud whimper and slumped down slightly, the Ghoul could only stand still and allow her to succumb to her shock. Their breaths were still harsh, their chest heaving up and down with some effort to stay calm. It was only then that they realized what else was happening.

People lined the platform wall, their phones masks in front of their faces as they all filmed the ordeal they had been a part of. The Ghoul huffed out in disgust and twisted around, shaking their head as they assisted the woman to her feet. As soon as she was, she leapt away from them and sprinted towards the nearest exit, a tunnel that connected to the main lobby upstairs. 

The train behind the Ghoul started to move again and the people filming seemed in no hurry to go anywhere, still recording like they were expecting something else to occur. The Ghoul crossed their arms over, like they were trying to tell them to stop filming but their view was ignored as the people continued to capture every move they made. Swooping out from the tunnel the train had disappeared into, the black smoke had collected into an inky clouded mass, calmly floating about the platform effortlessly like a gaseous ribbon. 

The Ghoul, still silently staring at the various phone-wielding witnesses noticed each phone had shifted point of focus. The Ghoul swiftly pivoted on the spot, following the direction they were facing.

The smoky translucent mass appeared to be floating towards them, slowly, curiously. The absurd spectre made an unnerving cog-grinding sound as it neared, causing some of the witnesses to panic and flee, whereas the apparition thrived on the paralysis of the others that stayed, darting past the Ghoul to seep into them, only to tear them apart from the inside out. 

One woman was still stood quivering, desperate to capture what was happening on her phone, regardless of what was happening to the innocent bystanders around her.

The Ghoul, tearing their attention away from catastrophic mauling of bodies, ran across to grab the woman’s arm and forced her to follow them away from the danger. She reluctantly went along with them, still gripping tightly onto her phone so that she captured every shaky second of it. They sprinted through the connecting tunnel, the sound of their rushed footsteps echoing loudly against the tiled walls.
 
They soon arrived at the inevitable metal escalators and immediately ran upwards, internally cursing that the things were at a standstill. The burbled churning of the spectral creature reverberated from behind them and the woman clung closely to the Ghoul, regardless of how terrifyingly surreal everything was. The volume of it grew louder and the Ghoul pushed their pace further, their arms yanking the woman along with them.

After some time, they had climbed the length of the steep escalator, rushing into the main lobby area with sharp breaths. The main lobby was vacant and wide, with scuffed tile flooring that matched the harsh bathroom-like tiling of the walls, which only added to how oppressive it seemed in the dim lighting. As they pressed onward, turnstiles segregated the width of the area, posing as a barrier to their escape. On their quick approach, the Ghoul suddenly halted, which almost sent the woman on their arm flying forwards.

It was obvious why they had stopped.

A small family had just passed through the row of turnstiles, headed towards the direction they had just fled. 

The Ghoul could not allow this. 

They ripped their arm from the woman’s grip and rushed towards them, displaying the universal signal to not go any further by shaking their head and pushing their hands flat out, shaking them from side-to-side too. The woman continued to film, capturing the concerned family’s expressions at the Ghoul’s actions. As the father opened his mouth to speak with a disgruntled look on his face, holding onto one of the shoulders of his kids defensively, the Ghoul attempted to skid to a halt before they collided with them.

The churning sounds emerged again, growing louder and louder, nearing their location with every split-second that passed. Seconds later, it had caught up again. As the Ghoul leaned to their left in hopes that they would slow down and not run into the family, the murky, charcoal mist seeped into the Ghoul easily, setting them off balance entirely. 

They slapped one of their hands down onto the ground in protest and the small family backed away in fear, the entity fighting for complete control of the Ghoul. Their body tensed up, their leg muscles shaking as if they were having some kind of seizure. The black mist exited the Ghoul only to seep back into them to drag, stretch and twist the Ghoul’s insides and outsides, using them like a willing punch bag. 

The sound of sirens was present but far away, and it was like the entity was aware of what they were and it caused it to thrash the Ghoul around even more. It was attempting to force off the Ghoul’s vow of anonymity... the mask. With one large strike, the force managed to loosen it entirely, but out of sheer desperation and loyalty to what their anonymity meant to them, the Ghoul moved their arms upwards, fighting to hold their mask to their face like it was the most precious object on Earth.

The apparition paused briefly to see if the Ghoul would weaken their grip. When they didn’t, the apparition swiped them in a flurry. The Ghoul clutched the mask to their face, knowing it was likely that a camera was still present, even through the immense physical and mental pain they were enduring. The supernatural force continued to violently attack them for several minutes, the few witnesses present too terrified to interfere. In the back of the Ghoul’s mind, they already knew that no one would.

After another series of brutal attacks, the spirit grew impatient and honed itself into the Ghoul’s bloodstream, the mist sinking into their entire form to gain control of their muscles. The Ghoul wheezed out harshly, unable to resist being dragged up into the air, a large gap forming between the ends of their toes and the grimy, recently blood spattered floor of the London Underground. Their spine was forced to bend and it forced their arms to drop from their face to hang by their sides limply, tears springing from the Ghoul’s bloodshot eyes.

The mask clattered to the ground, and it echoed all around the vicinity, droplets of blood thickly trickling over the chrome finish.

Their right shoulder jolted downwards, like the apparition was trying to force them to face the woman who was still filming... it wanted to shame them as much as possible. Yet the mask-less Ghoul tilted their chin upwards, hoping that it would obscure a clear shot of their face. Their action managed to save their identity, but it only added to how chilling the spectacle was... a thin globule of blood trickled down from their left nostril, and then across the corner of their mouth, where it then congregated over their chin to drip down towards their concealed neck.

Their eyes gleamed with acceptance, acceptance that was thankfully hidden from the prying camera, their arms swinging limply as they continued to be levitated, clearly under the puppetry of the spirit. They inhaled sharply as the force grew bored and annoyed, and it tried to snap the Ghoul's spine backwards like a mere matchstick. They let out an unholy cry, and it surprised the woman filming, who finally found the situation to be too much. She darted away, hopping over the barriers to ensure her own safety.

With the lasting sound of agony, the entity shook their every cell, torturing the Ghoul into surrendering. To the spirit’s surprise, they didn’t. Deciding torture was futile, the spirit immediately vacated its host. The black apparition slithered through the air, still doing so as the universe’s physics kicked back in and the Ghoul dropped to the hard floor, slumping into a lifeless heap. 

The sound of approaching sirens was louder than ever, but other than that, the lobby was desolate. Everyone who had been there had now fled, which only confirmed the Ghoul’s expectations. 

The silence was abruptly interrupted by a rush of taps, reminiscent of someone running in expensive tailored shoes. The Ghoul had been left to stew in their own hopelessness, so the sounds only could only mean more trouble was to come in their eyes. The sound grew closer and closer, the Ghoul scrunching their eyes closed and furrowing their eyebrows in exhausted surrender.

Suddenly, they instinctively latched onto hope and cracked their eyes open. They figured it couldn’t be any worse than whatever had just attacked them so they attempted to rise up to their feet. They had outlasted an atrocious attack so far, they were determined that they were to face whoever - or whatever - this next threat was. 

The approaching footsteps stopped somewhere near the barriers behind them.

Almost soulless eyes fixated on the twitchy movements the Ghoul was making as they weakly pushed themselves up to a higher position than the floor.

“Dagli artigli del diavolo.” a murmuring voice emerged from a few yards away. “You breathe?”

Whoever it was sounded amazed, like the sight of the Ghoul across from them was an illusion.

The Ghoul was now almost leaning on their elbows as the person tried to pass through the turnstile barriers, the tell-tale denial of metallic clicking ringing out. There was an exasperated sigh of annoyance and a loud whack, like they had roughly slapped the side of the ticket scanner to attempt to get to the other side. The sound of a barrier ticking over rang out again, but it jammed this time and was followed by a breathy “hngh!” of discomfort.

The person carried on like nothing unintended had occurred and raised their thin legs up, transferring their weight to their creaking palms, the clack of shoes hitting the other side of the turnstiles confirming that they had jumped the barriers entirely.

The Ghoul was almost stood now, frantically covering their face with a single hand as the other grasped their half-shattered mask. They peered through the gaps between their fingers, eyes wide at the sight of Cardinal Copia close to standing before them. They started to quiver with fear, knowing how weak they must have looked in front of him, and shakily held their mask up to cover the right side of their face - their other hand shielded the left side from view as best they could, but they knew that the cardinal must have seen a snippet of who was residing under there.

The cardinal stepped before them, a gloved fist pressed to his chest as the other draped by his side. The Ghoul bowed their head lowly, with quite some effort from the injuries they had just received. From their body language it was clear to the cardinal that they were disappointed in themselves.

“You think I’m here to punish you, no?” he asked, tilting his head inquisitively, eyes briefly flicking towards the blood spatter across the floor. The Ghoul nodded weakly, angling their head downwards to avoid addressing him properly.

“Then you are correct.” he confirmed with a sigh, his eyebrows knitting together like he was trying to make sense of something. “Papa would expect that of me.”

The Ghoul’s various gashes, cuts and bruises began to feel sore in his presence, they wouldn’t be surprised if they were weeping again. They raised their eyes to stare openly at the cardinal, and to their surprise, he was staring back at them. 

Something about his eyes was settling, but he still looked stern. He knew that he hadn’t summoned an eighth Ghoul that night, and he’d seen the bloodied skin of a human being before they’d hidden their face from him... he knew something else was going on, but for some reason, he didn’t seem too concerned about questioning it at that particular time.

“I’m going to cut you a deal, ok?” he proposed. standing upright to emphasise that he was completely sincere. They nodded once in reply, still abiding by their guise of a Ghoul even though it was obvious by now that he was certain they were an impostor.

“You are to leave here without a word. You are not to speak of anything here that has occurred.” he instructed, pausing briefly to frown at whether he’d just accidentally rhymed words. “Eh... screw it, I can’t think of anything else right now. So... you’re free to go. Leave through one of the tunnels further down.”

There was another pause and it was only then that Cardinal realized that he probably seemed like he was thrusting them straight back into the claws of danger. 

“The trains have stopped so you won’t be harmed. I assure you, there is too much to answer for if you head back out the other way.” he added defensively, and they nodded again.

“Ahm... and... I was never here. Ok?” he quickly whispered, nearing them a little more now that they seemed to be more agreeable.

The Ghoul sighed with disappointment as the cardinal clutched at the lapels of his waistcoat in confidence, and they reluctantly nodded.

“You are still holding the mask close, hm?” he chided playfully like he was talking to a child, glancing over their shaking hands, which were small and swollen from everything that had happened. “You aren’t one of my robust Ghouls, I know this much.”

The Ghoul’s breathing suddenly became heavy with worry, and they looked around frantically when the sirens from the station entrance became very apparent, echoing all throughout the empty lobby.

“I don’t mind that you are dressed this way really, not at all.” he admitted dismissively, causing the Ghoul to raise their face in surprise. “So long as I never see you again, and you cause no trouble for me or the Ministry. Well, particularly me.”

He received another nod in response.

“Good... good.” he muttered quietly, narrowing his eyes in speculation.

He leaned forwards in order to slide a leather glove over the hand on their face, and they trembled, unable to register how gentle he was. He wasn’t harsh like they’d expected, even though they could tell that he was completely confused and irritated by the situation. Another glove joined and he cupped his hands around their palm, guiding it away from their cheek. He studied intensely as a single snippet of their face was revealed to him: a small rounded chin, a pallid complexion smeared with blood and almost coal eyes, framed by thick smudges of black. He gazed at them intensely, his white eye almost glowing from the authority he held over them at that moment.

“Have Faith.” he whispered ominously, like it was more of a warning than a piece of kind, reassuring advice. Even so, the Ghoul’s shoulders eased, even amongst the pains they were feeling, their hand steadying now that it was cradled by the cardinal.

A loud bang sounded off, and it ricocheted off the walls towards the entrance, the cardinal’s eyes widening with horror.

“Suocera di Satana.” he voiced with a sigh, moving away from them. “We can never have a moment’s peace in this place, ah?”

He moved a hand to pat the one he’d been holding onto, “You must go now. Abide by my terms and there shall be no repercussions. Okie dokie?”

The Ghoul nodded enthusiastically, amazed how casual he was about the strange and unsettling situation.

“Okie dokie. Go. Go quickly!”

The Ghoul skidded around obediently, sprinting away with shaking legs in the direction they had not long fled from.

The cardinal was still stood staring in intrigue, yet somehow remained as cool and calm as ever, even when he heard the stampede of what he could only presume was the authorities storming in behind him...        

2 : The Precursor

The same night, at the Ministry.

Papa Nihil, despite his age, was a man that loved to bask in the glow of his fireplace and television set into the early hours. He would easily become invested in even the most terrible of movies, the thrilling idea of anything cinematic was fascinating to him. He yearned for escapism, no matter what time it was.

On this particular night, he was partaking in his weekly movie night ritual, clad in his skull paint and papal robes - as much as Sister had tried to persuade him to take them off or at least wear a napkin if he was eating popcorn, he ignored her as his robes were just far too comfortable to lounge around in. He was sprawled out over a plush sofa, his feet - adorning skull-themed crocs - were slightly raised up from the recliner seat, only adding to how comfortable everything was for him.

Sister Imperator was sat beside him, not paying an awful lot of attention to what he was engrossing himself in. She was far too concentrated on the crossword puzzle that was resting over her lap, which was only just legible in the dim glow of the fireplace. She was sat upright and leaned slightly to her right so there was a bigger gap between Papa and herself.

Papa’s quarters were more like a homely museum than a living space. In this room alone, various movie posters lined the walls, the two-seater sofa they were sat on was likely from the eighties, an explosion of retro music magazines was strewn across the coffee table in the centre of the room and thick-set picture frames decorated the mantelpiece - though a few had been placed downwards so the photos could no longer be seen. Lava lamps of varying ages were in the nearest corners to the fireplace, which probably generated enough warmth to heat the entire Ministry, but Nihil liked it that way as his circulation wasn’t what it used to be... and he loved the novelty of a lava lamp.

He’d insisted on having a large screen, mostly due to the fact he liked to boast that he was an avid cinephile. But if he was completely honest, his eyes certainly weren’t what they used to be either. He would often become frustrated whenever people would assume he was completely blind, when in truth he just had terrible judgement with distances and the edges of everything were horrendously blurry.

“This movie is so visceral, Sister!” he exclaimed, briefly smiling at her, hoping that he would hear her speak. She tilted her head to the left and raised her green eyes to stare at him coldly, not that he could particularly tell at all. When she averted her attention from him again to scribble something down in her puzzle book, he audibly sighed in disappointment and reached his left arm out to fumble with something that had fallen down the side of the couch. 

He let out a loud “aha!” of victory as he yanked out the remote control for the TV, immediately trying to work out which button he pressed to alter the volume. He brought the control closer so that he could just make out faint shapes of the symbols on the buttons and slowly pressed to increase the volume.

“Sister, do you know if we have any popcorn left?” he suddenly asked, his voice raising now that the TV was a lot louder.

She sighed heavily in response and poised her pen over the puzzle she was about to complete, “I told you, Papa. We ran out last week.”

He huffed in acceptance and placed the remote control flat over the arm of the sofa, but it was inevitably going to be eaten by the sofa again at some point. 

“The ad-breaks haven’t been on in some time.” he observed, lightly crossing his arms over so that he could perch them over his tummy. “Or has this whole movie just been one big advertisement?”

His words persuaded Sister to finally acknowledge the screen, where a series of scenes flashed as a reporter droned on about a horrendous event that had happened. 

“Sister?” he asked, hoping that she would at least reply to him this time.

“That is no movie, Papa.” she murmured, her green eyes shimmering with concern.

“What are you talking about, Sister?” he replied with a toothy grin. “This is the horror channel.”

She gaped at the screen, eyes wide with terror. She lost grip of her ball-point pen and it clattered to the floor. 

Still screenshots from a shakily filmed broadcast showed someone adorning a familiar chrome mask... a chrome mask that would heavily implicate the Ministry’s involvement. As Papa breathed in, preparing to speak again, she quickly turned to him and pressed a finger to his lips to hush him - she couldn’t have him talking over the news report now, her heart was beating frantically with apprehension. His eyes widened at her actions as she motioned with her free hand to focus on the news report. He did as she was instructing, and his cheerful expression soon dropped.

The screen was showing a closeup of a masked Ghoul, followed by a montage of motion-blur images of them running through a subway station. Papa furrowed his brow, his look of indifference plastering over with disgruntled confusion. The shape of the mask was too distinctive, even with how little he could see, it was clear to him that it had to be one of the cardinal’s Ghouls.

He narrowed his eyes as his ears pricked up at the sound of the reporter’s voice, his arms unfurling so that he could claw his fingers into the cushions of the couch in frustration.

“It is not confirmed whether this was merely a hoax broadcast as the police are not commenting on the matter at this time... if anyone has any useful information, the Metropolitan Police has instructed to contact them immediately.”

Papa Nihil may have often missed the obvious, but he wasn’t so senile to forget the fact that London was exactly where a ceremonial ritual was being performed that evening.

“Get me the cardinal. Now.” he demanded, his face scrunching into one of heartless scrutiny as he continued to watch a torrent of screenshots of the Ghoul mid-chase, dragging whoever was filming firmly by their arm.

Sister Imperator was silent but she immediately sprung to her feet, bowing her head slightly before dismissing herself from his presence.

3 : The Cardinal's Punishment

It was January 2020, a fresh start to prove that the Ministry was indeed something to look up to. Unfortunately what had happened in November of the previous year seemed to loom over the institution. The new year was supposed to be a year of respite for Cardinal Copia, but it was highly unlikely now that he’d showed his face to his superior... two months after the catastrophic events in London. 

Papa Nihil had been more than livid with him upon his arrival the day prior. The Ministry were up to their eyeballs in conspiracy and they could only tie up so many loose ends - most of the witnesses had been paid to keep their mouths shut, much like a handful of news outlets. By doing such a thing, Nihil had saved face for appearances, even though there was now a huge hole in the Ministry’s assets.

It was half-past nine in the morning and instead of having to experience the colossal bore of Papa Nihil’s Friday sermon, Cardinal Copia had been given the job - punishment - of welcoming a new member of staff. He was sat on one of the lavish armchairs in the entrance lobby, apprehensive of whoever was to step through the entrance any moment. He found waiting a difficult task, but it was one he’d only added to by arriving obscenely early for the arranged time of ten-o-clock. He was always a punctual man. 

Meeting people was a large part of Copia’s job, but when it was so closely tied to something trivial like the Ministry - rather than his energetic escapades as a rock star - he really couldn’t muster up the curiosity he should have been displaying. His nervousness was apparent more than anything and he was certain it was because of how quiet the lobby was, there was nothing ambient like a crackling fireplace or a ticking clock. Sound was something that reassured him that he hadn’t got to listen to the deafening beat of his own heart. He decided that he couldn’t take the silence much longer, he would have to occupy himself.

The sleeves of his black cassock rustled as he reached towards an end-table to his left which was littered in various magazines and titles. He randomly drew out one of them from the splay of paper, frowning in interest at the cover.

It looked like it was aimed at women - he could only presume someone like Sister Imperator had placed it there. He would have to check whether the puzzles had been completed to know for sure, she could never leave one incomplete. As he flicked through, raising his brows at what apparently was supposed to entertain the general public of women, he inadvertently became fairly calm, disregarding the very reason he was there for a short time. He was fascinated as he rarely picked up a magazine anymore, and it made him realize that he probably would enjoy reading such things. The titles of every article were obnoxious and obscene, the photos were supposed to promote empowerment and independence, but the women featured all looked ordinary and indistinguishable. He was very much entertained by the irony of it all, completely engrossed in its unrealistic values.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sat there reading, but he almost jumped out of his skin once a loud clunk sounded out, the creaking that followed bouncing off of the marble-clad walls.

He knew that it was likely to be the person Papa had spoken of, but he honestly wasn’t so interested - in fact, he very much wanted to breathe out with boredom but he resisted. He kept his eyes on the magazine that was within his grasp, but couldn’t help pulling up his right sleeve so that he could take a peek at a small watch that was secured just above his glove. It was exactly ten-o-clock... they were punctual, at least.

One of the entrance doors must have still been open as he could now hear the rhythmic downpour of rain beating down on the concrete slabs outside. The pleasant sound was soon shut out by the slam of the heavy oak door, soft taps of footsteps replacing the silence. The cardinal was playing oblivious as the sound of their shoes grew louder, until they were getting further away again. He frowned and his eyes peered over the edge of the magazine, and he easily spotted the new member of staff, who had their back to him. Due to the fact their head was tilted downwards, they must have been studying the wide table at the other side of the room, which also had a large selection of magazines and books.

They seemed unaware of the cardinal sitting there and he was quick to correct his presence, crinkling the magazine pages together loudly before discarding it onto the table where he’d originally found it. He leapt to his feet, the curiosity easily seeping into his demeanour even though he’d been certain that he would feel the opposite. He almost seemed to glide across the polished floor as he approached the right of them, not wishing to sneak up behind them as it could have been misconstrued. 

They were still obscured from view as he nodded his head in politeness, extending out his right arm in the hopes they would notice his presence and shake his hand. He frowned when it seemed his interaction had been ignored and dismissed his attempt at a handshake and instead lowered his body into a half-bow, completely averting his eyes to the floor... though they soon trailed to the shoes of the stranger before them.

He focused on the slightly scuffed pair of black oxfords they wore on their narrow feet, then he skimmed up the line of their leg which appeared shapely from the black nylon of their suit trousers. As his eyes trailed higher to a slight bump of their hips, he realized it had to be a woman and immediately his eyes moved faster out of blatant interest. The woman adorned a black blazer to match the suit trousers which curved sharply outwards over the tops of their hips, the cut of the lapels were unusually severe and angular, a stark contrast to the white shirt they wore beneath. Their black tie was neat and centred, partially hidden by the coat which had only a few buttons holding it shut. His eyes finally gazed upon the face of the person and he stooped upwards slightly from his bow, his stare almost intimidating as he couldn’t help but explore the woman’s face.

Her chin was smooth and rounded, leading out to her jaw which curved out like the bottom of a heart shape. Her alabaster skin was still full of collagen but light lines appeared here and there, causing him to deduce she may not have been as young as she initially appeared. Her lips were protruding but not overly thick, slicked over with grey paint. They were a contrast to her pale cheeks which were full but gave the illusion that they were gaunt due to the small bags beneath her eyes. Her brow lightly protruded like a hood over her eyes but it made her current expression seem extreme, shading over her squinting oval eye-sockets. 

He peered into her charcoal irises like he was assessing her soul, leaning back slightly when he realized he may have been coming across a little intense. He quickly shifted his eyes to her hair instead, which was a deep burgundy with speckles of rain and shiny scarlet in some strands, reminiscent of crusted blood. She had it pulled up into two neat plaits from the back of her head, the end of each one settling either-side of her neck. Her fringe fell in two from the centre of her head, wispy deep red strands cradling each side of her face.  

“Hello there.” he addressed confidently, speaking clearly and slowly in case they weren’t accustomed to speaking English - he had to be prepared for anything, Papa had thrown him into the situation with very little context. In truth, Nihil knew that the awkwardness would be his true punishment.

The woman lightly frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the situation - he wasn’t sure whether she was merely nervous or whether she was unfamiliar with the etiquette of the Church.

“Welcome to the Ministry.” he continued, his voice peaking with positivity. “As it is your first day I shall be showing you around before I help to settle you in on your new, ahm... task.”

He felt he’d skirted around the fact he had no clue what role they would be filling rather well, and once the woman nodded in understanding for him to continue, his confidence shot through the roof.

“Before we proceed, I must introduce myself. I am Cardinal Copia, second in line to Papa and also the acting face of our delightful church.” he proudly announced, bowing lower this time like he was really aiming to make an impression. He’d stooped down so much that his biretta almost fell off. Her frown deepened once he stood up straight and faced her again, a gloved hand resting over the left side of his chest. He waited for her to react to him but she only stared, looking rather unimpressed.

“This is the part where you introduce yourself.” he whispered, his right glove cupping around his cheek to emphasise his whisper. He then lowered the same hand to extend it out to her, his movements smooth and dexterous.

“Aemelia Vial.” she finally spoke lowly, every syllable oozing stubborn reluctance. Although he was thrilled that she could actually speak, he couldn’t quite tell what her accent was. He needed to keep her talking.

“I can see you are not a sister of sin, so what am I to address you as?”

“Miss Vial will do.” she replied shortly, averting her eyes to her feet like something preoccupied her. He smiled and dropped his arm from his chest, nodding at her gratefully. 

“Very well, Miss Vial. Come, follow me a while.” he said, ushering her to follow him through a stone archway to their right which led to the main halls of the church.

Once he had begun to move, the bottom of his black robe brushed across the marble floor, and without turning back, he could hear the rustle of her clothes too as she followed him. As he led her through the main archway, he could sense her intrigue from how her footsteps lingered, the echoes reverberating from the drab stonewall to the right and colourful stain-glass to the left. 

“I take it that you haven’t visited us before?” he asked without glancing back, attempting to hide his curiosity, though it was clear he was completely curious from the way his voice peaked slightly. She didn’t answer him until they had reached the end of the corridor and rounded the first corner. 

“First time.” she replied sharply, like she found it difficult to form entire sentences so opted for short phrases instead. Her footsteps sounded like they were finally keeping up with his pace now they had been walking for a short period of time, yet he purposely slowed to ensure she was paying attention. When he didn’t feel her bump into him, the touch of a playful smile crept across his mouth. He shot a glance over his right shoulder towards her. 

“Your first?” he exaggerated, innuendo underlying his seemingly innocent tone. “I am most honoured, Miss Vial. I’ll make sure to show you round well, you’ll know it like the back of your hand in no time.”

A silence fell over them for a few minutes as they walked the marbled halls, their footsteps the only sounds that kept them both from feeling too uncomfortable with the fact they were two complete strangers. Luckily it wasn’t too long before Cardinal had an excuse to speak up and disperse the icy silence.

He paused in the centre of a cross-roads of corridors, gesturing towards the hall on his left with an overly-extended arm.

“This is where you will find Papa’s office.” he explained, clasping his hands together behind his back once her attention was on where he’d directed. “He mostly takes naps in there but if you have a serious problem, don’t be shy.”

She didn’t reply to him but he figured that she’d got the message and swiftly moved on, clearing his throat when he didn’t hear footsteps behind him. The sounds eventually emerged, pattering quickly to catch up to him as he took one of the corridors that stemmed away from the direction of Papa’s office. 

It wasn’t long before Copia paused again, this time in front of an elaborate, heavy-set door-frame which was rather out of place within the constraints of the marble-clad wall. 

“As you can tell, this door is very old-fashioned, so it is suited to Papa very well.” he informed with a waver of annoyance. The woman behind him didn’t seem to be aware how he said it with such spite, she was too busy making a mental note of her new surroundings.

“And it is strictly off-limits.” he added in a hushed murmur when he suddenly began to move again. Her silence was starting to grate on him and he sighed heavily, regardless of whether she noticed his exasperation with the situation or not. 

It seemed like it had been an eternity once they both arrived at the next area for him to introduce, and the cardinal seemed to have a spring in his step now that they had passed Papa Nihil’s side of the Ministry. There were two tall, open entrances, bordered in pale grey stone. The cardinal peered around the edge of the stone-work, motioning for Miss Vial to have a peek too.   

“My favourite part of the whole Ministry, heh!” he proclaimed with a playful chuckle. “The cafeteria. Always filled with the happy faces of our faithful sons and daughters of Lucifer. I highly recommend the selection of dessert pies on Wednesdays.”

He made no delay in stepping away to continue on with his tour of the place, still managing to be quick and nimble with his movements, despite the fact he was snugly adorning his cassock. 

“You like pie?” he asked as he ventured on, acknowledging Miss Vial for the first time in quite a few minutes by glancing over his shoulder. She was frowning at the ground, clearly uninterested or unimpressed by his friendly question.

“I suppose.”

He was quite surprised he’d even got a reply out of her and turned his attention back to the halls in front of them, noticing that that they had almost finished the tour of the modern complex. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to show the older section, but he knew from how bored she seemed that the older one would probably peak her interest. 

It wasn’t long before they arrived at the next landmark on the tour, and to the cardinal, it was the most unholy one. They peeked into an elaborate archway, embellished with various metallic symbols of sin, such as imps, witches and ghostly apparitions. It certainly seemed to capture Miss Vial’s attention but she spoke nothing of it, thoughtlessly eavesdropping on whatever was taking place in there at the time. The main chapel was a mesmerising, beautiful sight, with dozens of pews filled with the behinds of loyal disciples. She could only just make out an older gentleman in the distance, speaking behind an extravagant pulpit which was engraved with silver. Tapestries depicting tales of hellish catastrophe were his intimidating backdrop, hanging like mere curtains to the vivid, complex designs of the stain-glass that lined the back wall. 

The cardinal appeared to shrink back away from peeping after a few of the worshippers in the pews seemed to turn their heads towards him. 

“I don’t really need to explain this one.” he whispered in an overly modest tone, acting like his hiding had been completely intentional by leaning against the archway in what he hoped looked like a cool stance. “You know, other than it’s pretty... large.”

She seemed glued to Papa Nihil’s ceremony but the cardinal didn’t want to spend too long sticking around so he motioned a hand in front of her, alerting her to follow him again. 

“This next bit gets a little... janky.” he commented in his normal volume of voice now they had vacated the chapel area, much to his relief. “This is our recently renovated building, but we are about to venture into the listed building. Unfortunately I can only show you what is safe, we just have to go a little more careful.”

She was still quiet as they turned another corner and crossed a threshold into what seemed like a completely different era. The corridor before them was narrower, the walls were dense and cold, formed out of thick grey stone. It was dim, unlike the bearable comforting tone of electric light they had just come from. Sconces filled with electric candles were placed intermittently along each side of the wall, causing every moving thing to cast long, distorted shadows the closer to light they became. 

Their footsteps echoed loudly, like they were in a cave rather than a building and it only elevated Miss Vial’s sense of wonder. It was more like what she had imagined than what she had already seen so far. After a few minutes of delving into the historical section of the Ministry, it soon became fairly clear to her why the cardinal had stressed her safety. She could only just see the outline of him in front of her, steadily slowing his pace to inch himself to the right wall. He skirted himself around a large mound of rubble which had crumbled out from a room to the left, which had suffered a devastating roof collapse. 

Miss Vial passed in a similar manner of caution, studying the various ways it was being leashed into place, metal poles, wooden furniture and make-shift barriers were holding it back from crumbling even more. The sight was sad but as there was a new Ministry building, she could see why it had been left in such a ruin.

Eventually, they came to the final stop on the cardinal’s tour. It was a tiny chapel, complete with two rows of pews and an alter littered with a bonfire of black and red candles. It amazed her how such a thing was still in use, but it had such character about it that she could see why some worshippers still used it. It was vacant but in no way was it eerie. The glow of the candles and the rays of sunlight spouting through the windows gave it a cosy atmosphere, and she preferred its intimacy to the one they had previously visited.

“Again, what am I to say?” the cardinal asked with a sigh, like he was losing the patience to keep up his enthusiasm. “It’s, ah... small.”

He shrugged as they both stood studying the small chapel, the flickering flames dancing too much to be ignored. It was after a minute of silence that Aemelia Vial realized that the cardinal appeared to be in the awkward dilemma of running out of things to explain to her. A look of bewilderment struck her features, her black eyes narrowing in speculation as he was already taking a few steps towards leaving the area without uttering a word to her.

“Should you not show me the apothecary?”

From the longer sentence his ears could finally pick up on her voice. She had a soft cockney accent that would have sounded quite stereotypical were it not for the fact she had come across very well spoken so far, no matter how short her replies had been.

“The apothecary?” he asked in bewilderment and stopped dead in his tracks, wondering why she wanted to see such a place as it hadn’t been touched in a very, very long time. Then it suddenly dawned on him. She must have been expecting to work there. There hadn’t been an alchemist in decades, but she was clearly expecting to fill such a role. Internally he was questioning whether such a job vacancy had even been open in the first place, after all, if that were the case, its advertisement must have been neglected for quite a long period of time.

He didn’t want to show her the gap in his knowledge, even though he was truly clueless about her terms of employment. He didn’t want to acknowledge his presumptions - she could very well have been expecting to be a cleaner for all he knew. He cleared his throat, setting aside his confusion for the time being, realizing that the only way to find out more was to do as she wished. 

“Ah! Yes, yes, of course!” he exclaimed, gesturing his arms up to display that he was aware of his own stupidity. “I am glad you reminded me. Come, it is not far from here.”

4 : The Apothecary

The floor seemed to slope downwards, the walls and ceilings of the hallway stooping down to follow the steep approach to the apothecary. Thick beams were holding the ceiling in place above, slightly bent from wear and tear which caused even the cardinal to dip his head slightly so it didn’t hit his head.

As they continued their slow, careful journey towards the apothecary, the fact that this was a place of religion weighed on Miss Vial’s mind. She didn’t believe in anything as such, she just hoped she would be allowed to work in peace without it being a problem. Considering that they still seemed to have a few more steps ahead of them, she decided to voice her concern.

“Does lack of faith have a bearing on how I’ll be treated here?” she questioned, trying to keep her voice subdued to stop any worry wavering through.

“No, no, not at all.” he replied highly like he was happily surprised that she’d even spoken, halting by a seemingly ancient oak door which was slick with layers of sticky varnish. “Faith here is not mandatory, as long as you are content with your surroundings and do not feel so excluded, you know?”

He turned to the heavy door and pulled on the handle, cracking it open. He paused before unveiling the contents of the room, glancing over his right shoulder to acknowledge her again.

“This is a sanctuary to ensure everyone’s freedom, Miss Vial.” he added in a softer tone, his two eyes gleaming with assurance. “Nothing more.”

Her uptight demeanour eased slightly and she nodded in understanding, internally amazed that a satanic cardinal had been surprisingly kind to her so far. She wondered when it would turn - or if it ever would.

The door opened and he led her inside, unable to conceal coughing and spluttering from the amount of dust that had fallen from the door’s mantle. A few speckles had settled on his shoulders and he immediately reached his hands up to them brush off. He jolted around suddenly and rushed back towards the door like he’d just remembered that there was another person with him and held it open enthusiastically, clearing his throat and motioning for her to enter with a swift gesture of his left hand.

Miss Vial seemed to resist the urge to frown at his overly polite actions as she entered, luckily she appeared to forget his awkwardness as her eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of the room.

The apothecary was small and dingy, reminiscent of something that should have only existed in the dark ages. The thick stone walls were lined with varnished shelves and topped with jars and various boxes that had been nailed shut. Towards the back of the room was a few tall, thin cabinets and a centrepiece: a thick stone-slab table that had a large circular dip in the middle - from her knowledge she could only presume that it was an early workstation for alchemy. Behind that was a small arched stain-glass depicting an ageless countess, it filled the room with various shades of opals and reds as the daylight ignited it from the outside - the spectacle of it was both impressive and unnerving. 

Miss Vial tore her attention away from the window and her eyes scoured the lower walls. Despite its overall medieval appearance, there was still the odd plug socket, breaking up the sullen quality to the room to create historical irony. She supposed it still needed to have modernities to be of use.

She proceeded to study things a little closer, stepping towards the shelves without acknowledging the cardinal, who was stood in front of the closed door and swaying from foot to foot, unable to stand the silence. 

There were jars filled with dried powders and resins, jars containing viscous liquids, jars with their lids collapsed in - like something lively had once broken out - miniature trunks chained and nailed shut, and hundreds of different sized glass measuring flasks mindlessly scattered about the place. 

In its prime it had probably been a whimsical place, full of the sounds of bubbling and simmering, full of scents that were otherworldly and attractive... yet now, it was nothing but a discarded ruin. As much as the place was fascinating to her, she couldn’t help feeling a little sad about it. She spun away from the shelves, ignoring the fact she was already beginning to get attached to the place, wandering over to the centrepiece table which had been shoved towards the back of the room so that the shelves were more accessible.

“You will find... aaall the things you will need, I am sure.” Copia announced, holding his arms out in a gesture that seemed to draw attention to the various objects around the room, even though he hadn’t the faintest idea what most of it was.

It was the first time that Miss Vial actually appeared keen, her expression was still impenetrable but her eyes were full of curiosity as she examined the alchemy station with vigour. As she pulled out a few drawers in a small cabinet which was built into the leg of the table, the cardinal appeared to widen his eyes slightly. He cleared his throat in an attempt to capture her attention, but she was still set on exploring her soon-to-be workplace. 

“Did the application mention pay?” he asked as he wrung his gloves together in concern, hoping that the topic of her wage-slip might just force her to stop her thorough examination of the place.

Luckily, she raised her head up and took a step back from the table, “Yes.”

“Ah, good. One less thing to explain then, heh.” he responded with relief, his charming manner effortlessly hiding that he hadn’t a clue what her role exactly entailed. “We can discuss extra for looking after the pot, coke... whatever, you know?”

She widened her black eyes at him but he paid no attention to her surprise, backing towards the door in expectation of her wishing to leave soon... the sooner the briefing ended, the more he could get on with stuff he wanted to do.

“Sister Imperator is eager to meet you.” he stated with a disappointed sigh, leaning himself against the wall beside the door in what he thought must have looked like a cool, casual stance from where she was stood. “I’m sure she will be down here tomorrow... ah... she can be a little prying sometimes but she just wants to see the best from everyone.”

It was the first time he’d caught her attention for a while, and she studied his features with hardened eyes. He kept his gaze lowered like he wasn’t aware of her staring, loving the attention from someone who was still very much a stranger. She didn’t appear to be lured to him like some could be, she was merely getting used to his appearance now that she wasn’t staring at the back of his head.

His face was aged but seemed handsome in a distinct way. Fine creases scored his cheeks and jowls, deeper lines tracing away from the corners of his nostrils. Lines sculpted across his forehead and brow too, presumably from excessive use. His nose was protruding and angular, and with the slight frown he constantly had it made him quite intimidating and spiteful looking. There was a slight dip on the middle of his chin, causing him to appear chiselled... he probably had been when he had been younger. His lips were quite thick and sneering in a neutral expression, but it was clear that he wasn’t as disgruntled as he appeared. His hair was a slicked hickory brown, but the sides resisted and draped either side of his head, coming to a stop just beneath his earlobe. His facial hair was neatly groomed, the thin pencil moustache and sideburns reminiscent of a stylish era of cinema.

His right eye was muddy brown mixed with smudges of green, it was dense with wisdom and an array of experience. The left was entirely opal, as if another soul had converged with the muddy green colour and devoured everything left in its wake. It implied that he was soul-less, but it made it seem like there was something calculating and mischievous about him too.

He raised his gaze from the floor and met her eyes, but she immediately turned away to investigate the array of jars and boxes on the shelves again to avoid his attention.

“You start... tomorrow, right?” he asked, and she nodded immediately, not even acknowledging him as she was too focused on the reagents that were readily available to her. “Cool, cool. I’ll leave you to settle in so it will be familiar for you.” 

The material of his cassock caught against the stone wall behind him and he slid down the surface slightly, appearing even more ridiculous as he was still leaned against it in his casual manner. He dared not move even though she wasn’t looking at him, worried that she would scrutinise his effort to look cool in front of her.

“You... wouldn’t happen to be attending tonight’s ritual, would you?” he inquired with something hopeful about his tone. She immediately shot him a stubborn, confused glance and he held both of his hands up in surrender, pushing himself away from the wall with his elbows.

“Ah shit!” he exclaimed, waving his right hand in dismissal of his question. “You’re a non-believer! Right, right.”

He seemed to murmur something to himself, like he was taking note of that very fact. She didn’t think it was too important for him to remember, but obviously it must have been to a cardinal who was living and breathing belief on a daily basis.

“Nevermind.” he added shortly, crossing over his palms so that he could fling them out in another gesture of dismissal. “Have fun, Miss Vial.”

With that, he bowed and left her to settle into the apothecary, desperate to abandon his duties so that he could head to his office and put his feet up for a while.

5 : The First Request

The first day of any job is gut-wrenching - heading into an environment that’s unfamiliar, enduring the colleagues that have vast amounts of experience, ignoring the prying sets of eyes that are curious about the new face... the whole thing can be anxiety-inducing.

Aemelia Vial was experiencing just that on her first day as the Ministry’s alchemist. She had made note of where everything was as soon as the cardinal had shown it to her, she only hoped her memory served well from the day prior. She was still unsure how she perceived Cardinal Copia, he certainly wasn’t what she had expected for an esteemed chaplain, even if he was a satanic one.

Traipsing the corridors in the direction of her workplace, she could only keep her attention squarely ahead, and hoped that she wasn’t going to miss any of the turns she needed to make. The halls weren’t as peaceful as they had been on the previous morning, various worshippers brushed by her shoulders, all of them in high spirits. Most adorned clerical vestments like habits or tunic robes, whereas others opted for practical fashion by dressing in their choice of smart black clothing. She was thankful she was wearing her ebony suit as she seemed to fit right in and it cut down on the inquisitive stares she had anticipated receiving.

She clung onto a cardboard box, keeping it in a tight grip by trapping her arm as close to her right side as possible. Her left arm mirrored her right, and she clutched onto a large, square paper bag, filled with items of a similar shape. 

It wasn’t long before she had crossed the threshold of the old complex, which was sparse with beings compared to the wide, vainglorious halls of the newer complex. She thought that she would find the dimly lit voyage to the apothecary oppressive or creepy, but it wasn’t so bad now that she knew the path ahead. Soon, she passed by the collapsed room that was piled up with flooring and rubble, skirting around it with care. It was a little disconcerting, she thought over what could have caused such a thing but she reasoned that it was probably just the age of the building more than anything.

The door to the apothecary appeared sooner than she expected and she had to back-track a few steps. She paused and leaned forwards so that she could use one of her bent elbows to push the handle’s lever down. The mechanism creaked loudly and she pushed her shoulder into the door so that it would have more momentum to open. 

The place was exactly as she had left it the day before, abandoned and in need of a deep clean. Despite the latter, she decided that it wouldn’t stop her from acclimatising to the place. She dropped the deep box onto the vacant alchemy desk first, propping up the square bag against it. 

Immediately, she prioritised her comforts and lifted out an item covered in bubble wrap. She cautiously unravelled the material - unable to resist popping a few plastic bubbles - until a glossy black record player was revealed. She carefully carried it towards the left corner of the room and stood it on top of an appropriately sized cabinet. It didn’t take her long to assemble all the wires and find an appropriate plug socket to power it and she seemed a little more at home already.

Next, she turned her attention to the square paper bag, sliding out a pristine black notebook with a purposeful-looking pen and a thick wad of well-kept vinyl records. She placed the notebook inside a drawer beneath the alchemy station and managed to slot a large number of the vinyls into the open space under there too. The last couple were leaned against the wall on top of the desk, she justified their location by deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to have a few readily available. 

To finish, she grabbed fistfuls of thin scented candles from the large box - all of which were caramel in colour - and placed them in select positions on the shelves, the window sill and anywhere else she thought to be appropriate around the room. She wasn’t sure whether there was something symbolic about lighting candles in a satanic church, she may have come across as superstitious for all she knew, but she would never feel at ease without them lit.

She reached into the pockets of her blazer, swiftly unveiling a match box. Matches were something that she always liked to have handy and she never seemed to go anywhere without them, apparently the news that lighters were invented hadn’t quite reached her yet... perhaps she was just addicted to the ritual of lighting a match.

She drew a stick from the pack, sliding the rest away from view. She struck it against the side of the box in one firm swipe which caused the end to flicker into orange flame, the smell of smoke accentuated by the cold stone of the walls around her. She brought the tip of the match to each of the candle wicks and they burst into ignition, filling the place with a scent of frankincense and oak. 

Considering the matches were to hand, she slipped a pre-rolled cigarette out from the inside of her blazer, bringing it up to her face so that she could rest it between her lips. Her other hand struck a fresh match and she slowly brought the flame closer to the end of the cigarette...

A firm knock at the door alerted her and she immediately shook out the match, blowing the small wafts of smoke away as fast as she could. She scrambled about, hiding the untouched cigarette in a nook beneath the alchemy table. She stood as casually as she could, grabbing some small tongs that had been discarded on the window sill behind her, at least it would appear that she was in the middle of working on something.

Apparently she had reacted just in time because the person who had knocked ended up entering, regardless of whether she had answered them or not. She was expecting it to be the cardinal she’d met the previous day, but it wasn’t. The person was much shorter and more purposeful with their movements. They were clothed in a piceous dress that had a complimentary skirt which hung just below their knees. The clack of their heeled shoes echoed around the apothecary as they advanced across the length of the place, coming to a sharp stop once they were stood on the opposite side of the alchemy station. 

From the stern expression, greying hair and age of the woman in front of her, Aemelia could only assume that it was the authoritative Sister Imperator, who the cardinal had referred to with such disappointment the day before.

“Welcome to the Ministry, Miss Vial.” the woman greeted, bowing her head slightly in politeness. “I regret that I was unable to meet with you yesterday, but I’m sure that Cardinal Copia explained the basics. He isn’t great with detail but he scrapes by.”

Aemelia stayed quiet but gave a nod in response, frowning slightly at how passionately the woman seemed to chastise him. She twiddled the tongs in her hand and slowly placed them flat on the table, content that Sister didn’t appear to suspect that she had been attempting to light a cigarette just moments ago.

“I am Sister Imperator, I’m here to assist you and answer any questions that you may have regarding your employment here. I trust you may have many but I will aim to cover everything.”

Sister paused to scour the place, her eyes tracing over the filthy shelves and taking note of every flickering candle. She briefly shot a glance towards the immaculate vinyl player which was partially hidden from view due to Aemelia’s position and she visibly stiffened, rolling her eyes away so that she could bore them into the new alchemist instead.

“We do hope you enjoy your time with us, however long it may be.”

Aemelia nodded in response, leaning her palms against the table like she needed it for support. She had the sudden urge to sit down and fall asleep, she was getting quite bored with the conversation already. She just wanted to be able to get on with her job.

“Unfortunately, we do have some rules that we must all follow.” Sister disclosed in a strict tone, crossing her arms over her chest. “Mobile phones are not permitted anywhere around the Ministry. We strive to promote real human interaction, hence yours was confiscated upon entry. It is fundamental to our belief in being positive about life, but you are free to use any landline. Smoking is prohibited anywhere in the Ministry, other than outdoors or inside living quarters...”

Miss Vial felt like she was back in high school again, even though such an experience was a lifetime ago. She felt herself zoning out of Imperator’s induction speech, staring into the vacant pit in the centre of the alchemy station, imagining the coals at the bottom spitting violently with energy. She was hypnotised by the thought of the dancing reds and ambers of the flames for quite some time but she coaxed herself out of the trance, and honestly, she wasn’t sure how much she had missed.

“... and that too, will not be tolerated. I could go on about the regulations of this apothecary and the practice of alchemy, but from the extensive experience you have described on your application, I trust that you are well versed in the dangers and responsibilities you have as an alchemist, Miss Vial. And of course, I trust you are proficient in discretion.”

“Of course, Sister.” she interjected cynically, seizing hold of the pause in the woman’s speech to at least confirm her own existence. Already, she could see why the cardinal had emitted such unenthusiasm when mentioning Sister Imperator.

“I have been informed that you are a non-believer, is this correct?” the woman questioned, like she was taking part in some kind of interrogation rather than welcoming a new employee. 

Miss Vial nodded slowly, feeling her eyes begin to ache with tiredness from the one-sided conversation.

“Then you will be required to wear these.”

Sister opened out her hand and revealed two metallic objects sitting on her palm: a silver pentagram and Grucifix, both backed with sharp pins. 

“These are merely a precaution. They will ensure the Old One is aware that you are under our protection whilst you are with us.”

She reached across the alchemy desk and Aemelia held out an open palm, catching the two pins with ease. 

“I’m surprised that the cardinal did not give you these yesterday.” she proclaimed in a scolding tone, watching with a patient expression as the woman across from her pinned each symbol to the left lapel of her blazer. 

“Very good, it suits you quite well!” she exclaimed with a proud smile and Aemelia nodded in thanks, grimacing slightly as Sister appeared to take in a deep breath before continuing. “Now, we have a small matter to discuss. Papa is concerned that we have very few ways of providing you with the reagents you may require, our sisters are already capable of collecting any natural resources that we have available on the grounds, but when it comes to - ”

“I can harvest the trickier resources myself, Sister, you don’t need to put any of your sisters at risk.” she interrupted bluntly, backing away from the table so that she could stand straight and establish her sincerity.

“Oh, if you’re certain, Miss Vial. Please only harvest ingredients with minimal risks.” Sister replied, wearing an impressed expression. “I will inform Papa of your resolution, I am certain he will be relieved that you will have a source of reagents.”

“Thank you, Sister.”

She smiled at Miss Vial broadly, bowing her head shortly. 

“Now, I must be going, but I shall pay you a visit later on and show you to your quarters. Please excuse the dust in advance, it has been quite some time since we’ve had a resident alchemist. The room is reserved for this position specifically, so it’s in a poor state. I will make sure it’s cleaned up nicely for you before you settle down for the night.”

Aemelia nodded in understanding, despite finding the bombardment of Sister Imperator quite overwhelming.

After witnessing her silent reply, Sister wasted no time in turning around and exiting the place, leaving Miss Vial to her own devices... to which she let out a heavy sigh of relief.

Aemelia's morning - up until her lunch break - was fairly peaceful. She’d received a strict list of desired formulas from a masked Ghoul - on the behalf of Papa Nihil - who had quickly scampered out of the apothecary as soon as the parchment had left their hands. Most potions on the list appeared to be required for use in ritual practice, teaching classes and meditation, nothing particularly complex which she was thankful for, given it was her first day.  

Her afternoon, however, was not so enjoyable.

Around quarter-to-four, the door shrieked open, quickly followed by the shuffle of several feet. Miss Vial briefly acknowledged the sound by pausing mid-pour and her features dropped into a look of annoyance when the door slammed shut. Already she found herself gritting her teeth - whoever had just entered had no respect for the place they were entering.

Three individuals were huddled close - two sisters who adorned habits and a brother who was in a hooded robe. Their silence was eerie but it only seemed to annoy Aemelia, who sighed as soon as she looked up from her task to acknowledge them. Their faces were the only thing distinctly visible due to their choices in clothing, but from what she could tell they were all about the same age, late teens, possibly early-twenties. Their fresh, flawless faces suddenly caused her to feel like an old ruin.

“How can I help?” she asked, scanning her eyes across the three of them, who were still deadly silent like they were attempting some form of intimidation - if they were, they seemed to ignore the fact it didn’t appear to be working.

“You’re the new alchemist?” the sister in the middle questioned. Her nose wrinkled in interest and made her look spiteful and intrusive. From her accent it was clear she was a fluent Spanish speaker, and it made Aemelia wonder how many different nationalities were part of the Ministry. 

“Whatever gave you that idea?” she replied coldly, removing her jacket in preparation for her next stage of work, draping it over a cabinet behind her.

“Alchemists here have always been cursed, one way or another.” the other sister warned. Her tone was low and thick with bitterness, which caused her accent to sound muddled.

“So you’re the three Harbingers then?” Aemelia reasoned with a touch of hidden amusement as she brushed the front of her ebony waistcoat and centred her matching tie, harshly rolling up her white shirt sleeves. “I suppose every half-decent horror story has them.”

“We are just telling you what history has proven.” the first sister spoke again, narrowing her hazel eyes in speculation.

“Yeah, I’m really not buying it.” Miss Vial admitted with exasperation. “I think you’re here for another reason.”

“Shit.” the brother murmured and the middle sister subtly elbowed him in the ribs, causing him to cough loudly.

“You are completely right. We felt we should not hesitate to request something of our new alchemist.” the other sister explained in monotone, green eyes shining with curiosity. “It would be revered if you were to show your talents to us, by doing so, you would earn the respect of every Sibling of Sin in the Ministry. And that could come in very useful for you.”

“I’m not here for respect, I’m here for my pay check.” she replied hastily, tucking a few stray strands of dark red hair behind her left ear. “But even so, you may as well continue telling me about your request.”

“As Siblings of Sin we have been neglected here at the Ministry. The world receives the greatest satanic rituals in history, and we are stuck here, unable to attend any of them.” the middle sister explained with a salacious rasp in her voice. “The cardinal has refused our pleas for a ritual here in the Ministry and we have heard rumours of a potion - ”

“Nope.” Aemelia muttered shortly, shaking her head dismissively when she turned her back on them, reaching up to rummage through one of the apothecary shelves. She already knew what they were about to mention and she swallowed back her disgust. 

“ - a potion that can persuade someone to do whatever we wished.”

“No way in hell am I creating such a thing for you. Your reasonings alone are... quite disturbing.” she snapped with wide, worried black eyes. 

“But have you seen the cardinal?” the other sister chimed in, sliding her palms together like she was about to pray.

Miss Vial blinked and swivelled around from her task, confused why the cardinal suddenly seemed so significant in their strange request, “Yes?”

“Then surely it’s blindingly obvious!” the middle sister cried, clearly getting impatient with the situation. “Have you seen the way he gyrates on-stage, we have to force him to do another show! A private ritual, just for us sisters.”

“A-And some brothers would really like that too.” the brother finally pitched in, and Aemelia frowned at him, only just remembering that he was even there.

“Honestly...” she began, shaking her head in disbelief at what the three of them were requesting of her. “... I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re on about.”

“He oozes sexual charisma!” the middle sister argued. “We want to experience it up close and personal.”

“That doesn’t mean I should make something for you that would definitely leave him feeling violated. You do realize what you’re asking me to create?” she pushed out, trying her best to stay calm. It was hard to when they thought they had the audacity to request her for something completely unorthodox.

“We’re asking you to create a potion that will lead to optimism and opportunities.” the brother replied with a smile, causing the other two to nod in delusional agreement.

“It would never lead to that, trust me. I’m not making a potion like that for anyone.” she retorted, almost spitting out her words. The potion they were asking after had far more side-effects than they were aware of, which only added to how messed up their request seemed to be. 

“Well, hey, if you can’t do it, we’ll just find someone who can.” the middle sister retaliated, the three of them crossing their arms over in unison.

Aemelia smirked as they bickered in immature disappointment between themselves, knowing that no matter how much they looked, they certainly wouldn’t find anyone with the abilities that she possessed to create what they desired. Their chatter seemed to grow louder and she pinched her nose in annoyance, blinking her eyes to make sure they were still working. It didn’t seem like the three Siblings were in a hurry to acknowledge her again, and they definitely weren’t anywhere near to leaving the apothecary - due to the headache she felt fast approaching, she knew which one she would have preferred. 

Deciding that she may as well have been a ghost to them, Aemelia rolled her eyes and slid out a pre-rolled cigarette from a pack inside her jacket. She pincered it between the fingers of her right hand and wandered over to the nearest candle to light it, regardless of the rules that had been lectured to her that same day.

She placed it into her mouth and soon breathed out heavily upon the first inhalation, ribbons of white smoke wafting up to the beamed ceiling above. One of the three that were still loudly in discussion widened their eyes at her, and watched as she took one of the vinyls from the alchemy desk. She slid the record out with ease, carefully placing the cover aside on the desk. 

It wasn’t long before crackling emerged and the sound of hard rock music blared out defiantly, the commotion of the Siblings disappearing as they began to huff out in childish disappointment. 

They seemed to get the message entirely and started to make their way to the door, one of the women briefly turning back towards her with an icy look.

“If you had faith you wouldn’t refuse us!” one of them yelled over the music, shaking their head in distaste.

All she did to reply was puff out another cloud of smoke and nonchalantly extended her middle finger.

It wasn’t even a second before the door slammed, signifying that they had finally left but she couldn’t help feeling that she had offended them in some way. Either way, Aemelia was left with an amused smirk on her face for the rest of her shift... despite her skin still crawling from their strange request.

6 : The Second Request

The cardinal hadn’t shown his face to Aemelia since they’d first been introduced. He’d had an arduous schedule for the past few days and had seemingly overlooked the day they’d met. It was like it had never happened at all.

He’d mentioned that he would visit her but it was like he’d never even existed. She hadn’t even bumped into him in the corridors - which was odd, considering that she’d even passed by Papa Nihil, where the occupants of the hallway had parted for him like it was an unholy retelling of Moses. She knew the cardinal had an important role and was a seemingly busy man, but something about his lack of presence really irked her.

She pondered over his whereabouts during her afternoon work hours, leaning over the fire-pit to position a clasp on a thin vertical stand. It grasped at a thin perspex tube that was filled with a luminous blue liquid. She frowned at the substance as she tampered with the apparatus and it eventually lowered the bottom of the tube into the flames. It was now freely held in place and she spun around, reaching up to a shelf on her right. She confidently snatched a few small grinders of fine black grains like they were salt shakers in a kitchen, despite the fact they contained ingredients that were rather dangerous... apparently Miss Vial liked to keep herself on her toes at all times, never shying away from a risk.

Now that it had been a few days, she was definitely settling in more than she had expected. Work was a blessing, it was simple concoctions and the only social interaction with anyone was minimal. Several Siblings of Sin would enter occasionally to add requests to her list - so long as she deemed them appropriate - and Sister Imperator would make a daily appearance to see how she was settling in. Although the woman came across as cold and severe, she seemed to genuinely care about Aemelia’s experience of the Ministry - though it was hard to tell whether she had an ulterior motive to her visits.

Miss Vial’s thoughts on that very idea made her frown as she filtered a few specks of the black grain from each grinder into the thin tube, backing away in rushed preparation. Vibrant azure flames seared from the small container, but the sight didn’t last long as they soon extinguished themselves, leaving a new solution that was an iridescent violet. She moved the apparatus to the side so that the heat from the firepit could no longer reach it and swivelled around, finding an appropriate decanter.

She hadn’t long cleaned the thick stone sill beneath the stain-glass that morning and she’d neatly arranged a variety of bottles and vials for the use of containing any final solution she made. It had taken her a while to assemble but she didn’t appear to fuss over which container to pick and snatched up a modest sized bottle with a flat bottom, which was ornately decorated in spirals of golden paint.

In the midst of her turning back around to decant the violet substance that she’d produced, a familiar series of determined swipes came from the door. She seemed to brace herself and roll her eyes as the person entered of their own accord - she assumed, from their audacious actions, that it was Sister Imperator.

The door thudded shut and the clacking footsteps confirmed her suspicions. She continued her task and tipped the contents of the tube into the more attractive container, ensuring every last ink-like drop was exchanged exactly. 

“Good afternoon, Miss Vial. I trust your day is going well?”

She didn’t acknowledge the woman, still half-bent over the alchemy station like she was still in the middle of something, when in truth she’d actually finished. 

“Yes.” she replied truthfully, considering it was one of the more successful days she’d been having for a while. 

“That’s good to hear. I have a request for you, one that is of paramount importance.” Sister explained, resting her hands over her stomach modestly. “I am in need of something a little more unorthodox, so I ask for your utmost discretion.”

Aemelia frowned, immediately standing to attention. 

“Of course, Sister.” she replied sincerely. “You have my word.”

“I’m in need of a subtle poison. Something that is completely undetectable if ingested.” the woman spoke in a much more hushed tone than usual. “It needs to be easily concocted as I wish to use it on a monthly basis.”

Aemelia already had a poison in mind for what the woman required, but she couldn’t help wondering why such a thing was wanted by Sister Imperator of all people. Part of her etiquette as an alchemist was to only inquire about the purpose of a product if the client was shifty or trying to intimidate in some way. And because Sister was doing neither of those, she didn’t feel the need to bring up what it was needed for.

“I have something in mind that would be fitting.” she reluctantly replied with a nod, her eyes narrowed in curiosity. “It may take a few days to produce though.”

“Wonderful, Miss Vial. I will call in to see how things are progressing in a few days time.” Sister said with optimism, smiling slightly as she made her way out of the apothecary. There was something slightly surreal about her exit, even though nothing visibly different occurred. Perhaps it was just the feeling of surprise emanating from the alchemist.

The poison Aemelia had in mind was something she’d only crafted a handful of times as it was incredibly easy to fail. But as she’d been tasked by someone so important like Sister Imperator, she would have to ensure that the reaction would work successfully in a short period of time.

Subsequently, she would be in need of a catalyst. More specifically one of a supernatural nature, as most of the usual catalysts she used were likely to affect the detection of the poison. She knew that she would have to acquire something during that evening to realistically achieve the outcome she wanted. 

Even if that meant taking an enormous risk.

---

The alchemist’s attic space was a short walk from the apothecary, located in the run down complex rather than the stylish modern building, as a consequence, Miss Vial rarely set foot in the latter. 

The attic was a renovation of what seemed to be an old watchtower of some kind, with tall windows, thick stone walls and timber beams lining the high ceiling. The entire place was mapped out with thick floorboards which had all been elevated by a stone platform. It curved around, causing the entrance and central space to sit lower down in an extravagant circle, reminiscent of a stage, or pit. 

To the very left of the space, there were three densely worn steps that elevated another platform - it had likely been an alter at some point from the shape of it, but it now served as a wash area, a free standing bathtub now standing in its place. It was backed by a stain-glass piece that depicted a man adorning skull-paint and shaggy black hair, a saxophone in his right hand, a fiery chain in his left. The piece was the most colourful one Aemelia had come across so far, considering it had a palette of psychedelic colours unlike the subdued, formal designs of others. She’d grown to like seeing the window on a daily basis.  

To the centre was a writing desk that was situated as a marker between the different sides of the room. Now that Aemelia inhabited the place, the desk was topped with neat stacks of notebooks and pens, horror novels and post-it notes. 

To the right side of the attic was the main bulk of space. A bed with a frame formed out of twigs and black sheets dominated the area, the adjacent side-tables littered with cigarette packets and empty soda cans. Not too far away was a record player with a much larger sound system than the one in the apothecary, corresponding vinyls orderly sorted onto a bookshelf nearby. There was a small dresser too, also neatly sorted with a small selection of Aemelia’s clothes. As much as some things in the room were completely disorganised, she took great pride in her clothes and ensured her suit jackets were hung up appropriately on the coat-hooks by the door.

Although Aemelia had been told that the attic was strictly for the resident alchemist, she couldn’t help noticing that there seemed to be hints that it had probably hosted many a ritual, assuming that the layout of the room had some prominence to Satanism - not to mention, the odd scorch mark every here and there. She didn’t particularly mind, as it was now filled with her own belongings and she’d grown to admire the spacious characteristics of the place.  

On this particular night, during the approach to midnight, she couldn’t help feeling a sense of familiarity, perhaps it was because she could sense that something similar had occurred there before. The attic was a blanket of black, aside from a few flickering candles and a splay of rippling moonlight, which ignited the colours in the stain-glass.

She was bare foot, her attire dishevelled from the busy work day she’d had. Her shirt sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, her waistcoat was messily fastened and her blazer was nowhere to be seen. A purple substance clung onto her forearms as she sat crossed-legged in the centre of the space. A box of matches and a metallic dish were beside her, a pivotal part of what was to come. She watched with empty, bloodshot eyes as she poured out a purple powder from a jar, creating a circular barrier around herself.

She was almost certain that summoning a supernatural being had probably been one of the prohibited activities on Sister Imperator’s roster of rules, but considering she was doing such a thing to deliver a task to that very woman, she decided to ignore them for now. 

Her hands shook with nervousness as the circle around her was now complete and she tipped the jar back up straight, standing it close to her crossed legs. She hadn’t summoned anything for quite some time and blamed that fact on why she was so nervous, hoping it wouldn’t affect what would appear to her. She reached down for the pack of matches next to her, picking one out as her eyes searched the quiet darkness around her.

She let out a deep breath, striking it into ignition. She hesitated her movements, wondering whether she should say something before initiating the summoning. She rolled her eyes, realizing she'd probably engrossed herself in too many horror movies recently and lowered the match down to the powder in front of her. 

The thought of what she required hung in her mind as the ring around her blazed with violet flames, the shadows retreating away from the new intrusive source of light. She sat there for quite some time, peering over each shoulder to check whether something had appeared behind her, but there was nothing. She narrowed her eyes and shifted to stand, but she knocked the jar over, the purple powder spewing out into flames. The fire sprung up higher and she widened her eyes, quickly sitting back in her original position to avoid receiving a painful lick from one of the flames. 

To her surprise, the fire must have needed the extra fuel, for she heard an ominous gurgling to her right, coming from the bathtub. The fire seared one last time before dropping into ash, leaving her alone with whatever she’d summoned.

Even she didn’t appear to know, her dark eyes wide with concern as the thing slowly slapped its webbed feet down the few steps from the bath to head towards her. Its eyes appeared to be non-existent on its wide, saucer-shaped head, its body mass reminiscent of an inky globule of oil. She grimaced with disgust as it neared her, but she nodded her head in acknowledgement before pointing towards the metallic dish she’d laid out beside her. 

It finally stood before her, gurgling as it swayed side-to-side, black goo dripping onto the floorboards below. She pointed at the bowl again like she was instructing a child, wearing an expectant look. It huffed out a hoarse growl with an open mouth, human teeth spewing out and landing over the floor and bouncing into her. 

“No.” she asserted calmly with a scowl, using her hands to brush off the various teeth from her person. “That’s not what I need. You know that, come on.”

The inky creature appeared to grumble but it obeyed her like it was a tamed pet, stooping forwards so that she could reach it better. She raised her right hand towards it, about to make contact with its form, keeping her arm as steady as she could. She could sense the outline of something in her peripheral vision and immediately flicked her eyes to see what it was.

There, standing by the door, was Cardinal Copia, clutching a steaming cup of chamomile tea to his chest with the widest eyes she’d ever seen. Just as she opened her mouth to at least explain to him what was happening, the creature expelled an impatient gurgle, causing Cardinal to jump out of his skin, his tea slipping out of his glove’s grip. The mug flew downwards and smashed loudly into a chaos of porcelain shards over the floor, the creature snarling an irritated retort as a consequence.

It swiped forwards defensively and Aemelia fell backwards, her black eyes flicking away from the man to witness the creature lunging towards her. It opened its mouth to let out another torrent of human teeth but she’d grown wise to its attitude and held up her right forearm in defence, peering at it fearlessly. 

Once it made contact with the skin of her arm, it screeched and shook violently, erupting involuntarily into its own explosive death. It puffed out of existence in less than a second, surprisingly not an ounce of black goo to be seen. One last gurgle sounded out as nothing but smoky residual energy was left, and it floated towards Aemelia gracefully. The last few remnants of energy appeared to seep into her form and disappear, and she let out a deep breath of disappointment.

“Affascinante. Satanas dovrebbe sorriderti.” Cardinal murmured from his place by the door, his gloved hands patting his face down like he was checking that he was actually awake. “Where did you learn to do that?!”

“I didn’t.” she muttered with bitterness, shooting a cold expression towards him.

“What was it that you were attempting to do?” he asked, regardless of her annoyance towards him.

“I wasn’t attempting anything. I was ensuring that something would work - ”

“I see.” he said quietly, sensing that his intrusion was unwelcome to her. He’d seen the glow of purple bursting out from the small gap beneath her door as he’d been passing, he felt he had fair reasoning to investigate.

“It’s... for something that Sister Imperator requested.” she admitted curtly, sitting herself up into a more comfortable position so that she could flick a few loose strands of burgundy hair out of her face. Apparently her duty of discretion had completely slipped her mind.

“It is? It must be something elaborate for you to summon that... fucking ugly thing!” Cardinal exclaimed, gesturing to the place that it had been stood.   

“In a sense, yes. I was in need of a more potent catalyst, that’s all. It would’ve worked had you not interrupted.”

He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over at her ignorance over how she was to address him, but he stayed quiet. He supposed it was something new for him to be treated as an equal, he found the formalities of life as a high-profile churchman to be tedious and overly polite.

“Why are you even here anyway? I almost forgot who you were.” she teased, eagerly awaiting his response.

Her blunt manner was understandable, given her failure, but he couldn’t refrain from snorting a chuckle at her bitter poke. She scowled at him, clambering up from the floor now that she felt she had the energy to do so. He dropped his amusement and cleared his throat.

“I, eh... I have terrible insomnia.” he answered, staring at Aemelia’s bare feet while she used them to sweep up the remainder of the circle into a neat pile of ash and purple powder. “So I roam the corridors until I feel bored enough to sleep.”

“Understandable.” she replied in an empty tone, wandering across to snuff out some black candles she’d placed in the round of the room with a single blow of air. “Not so bored now though, I bet.”

He chuckled and nodded, cautiously taking a few more steps towards her. He scanned the floor, scratching his head in wonder at the mixture of objects scattered over the place. 

“Are there... teethies on the floor?” he questioned in a high voice, leaning down slowly to get a closer look. 

“Yep, those are teeth.” Aemelia replied, watching with amusement as he wrapped his arms around himself and backed away slightly in disgust.

“I could... ahm, help you clean up if you would like.” he offered in a stuttering tone like he suddenly found the situation awkward somehow. 

“I think I’ll be fine, Cardinal.” she answered with less coldness, actually nodding her head in appreciation of his offer. “Probably best if you get some sleep... though I know that it may be difficult for you now.”

He gave her a small smile, “It will, but it always is. At least it has made my night a little more... interesting.”

She raised her eyebrows at his optimism and he brushed down the front of his cassock like he was dusting it down in case any particles from the creature was on him. 

“I’ll leave you in peace, Miss Vial.” he announced with a sigh, shaking his head with a little smile. “I promise I won’t mention this to anyone... I don’t want anyone knowing I roam this place at night, whispers will float, you know?”

She nodded in agreement, “We’ll both keep quiet then.”

“Good, good.” he murmured with relief, stopping himself half way through turning to leave. “Oh, and ah... don’t summon one of those things again, ok? Try find something less... goopy.”

She nodded slowly, “Noted. Less goopy.”

“Alright, alright.” he answered contentedly, putting his thumbs up at her positively before he extended his hand out dramatically. “I was never here.”

With that, he spun on heels and crept out of the door, leaving her to clean her quarters in the dead of night.

7 : The Birth of a Resolution

The next morning was a slog for Aemelia. The events of the night prior were still fresh in her mind and caused her to act overly cautious, ensuring that she wouldn't make any more mistakes. Although the first summoning had absolutely failed, she had easily managed to repeat the ritual again in the small hours. It had enabled her to harvest what she needed without being harmed thanks to the absence of any intrusions.

The memories of her initial failure seemed to ease once she had returned from her lunch break that day, but it still loomed over her like a dense, unrelenting shadow.

The apothecary was brimming with curiosity that afternoon, living reagents glowed within jars on the fully occupied shelves, a large wash bowl filled with clean water was placed in the middle of the floor, soiled tubes and apparatus caked in an emerald substance were strewn over the alchemy station. She had left for lunch when she had been in the middle of something hectic, considering the disorganised state of the place. But in amongst all the mess and chaos of the room, a single object caught Aemelia's eye, she was certain that it hadn't been there before. 

A sleek beige envelope was neatly placed in the very cramped, limited space on the alchemy desk. She impulsively wandered towards it with a suspicious expression and lifted it up with both hands. She expelled a sigh of disappointment as she read the neatly written handwriting over the front of the envelope, which was addressed to "Miss Vile."

Despite the misspelling, she turned the letter over, revealing a waxed glob that had been stamped with a Grucifix, sealing whatever was inside. She had her speculations on what it contained but she set them aside, eagerly breaking her way in to fold out the letter. 

The handwriting was just as impressive as it had been on the outside, thin and slanted with dramatic flicks every so often. Her eyes scanned the message inside with fascination as she tried to make sense of its subject. It was like whoever had written it was stalling and visually hesitating onto the page, but once she had reached the very bottom, there was finally something she could completely comprehend. 

"I wish to speak with you in my office as soon as you are able. You will find it by going ahead once you leave the apothecary.
- c.c "

She presumed that it had to be Cardinal Copia from the night before and her curiosity peaked immediately. The fact it was from him made the strange hesitations on the paper understandable, she supposed. 

Deciding that his letter was probably hinting at an urgent matter - or possibly even an apology for the night before - she immediately abandoned her place of work for the time being, exiting the apothecary to swivel around and travel further into the old complex. She was heading deeper into the area she hadn't yet visited, so it was an adventure.

She passed the stairs she used on a daily basis - which led up to the floor where her attic space was located - and headed forwards just as the cardinal's brief instructions had specified. As she inquisitively followed the narrow hallway, the walls appeared to become a little cosier, plastered in crimson wallpaper and oil paintings, polished redwood skirting boards and much more effective electric lighting. It was clear she was heading the correct way. 

It wasn't too long before there was a warm glow of light ahead, flooding out from an open doorway on the left. She took a deep breath and wandered towards it, preparing a fist to knock on the wood of the door-frame to at least grab the cardinal's attention. 

Upon arriving there, however, she relaxed her hand and decided not to bother knocking at all. She paused and felt something urging her to look down, and when she did, she raised an eyebrow. Her eyes landed on a doorstop that was in the guise of a chunky brown rat laid on its side in a risque sort of manner. She narrowed her eyes in interest but decided it wasn't important and kept her attention on the task at hand.

She was unfamiliar with church etiquette but assumed that an open door implied that anyone was allowed to enter of their own accord. She entered regardless and ducked down slightly due to the rather low door-frame, scanning over the room in front of her.

The cardinal's office was small and cramped, not at all what she was expecting for somebody that was apparently so esteemed. 

There was a single window, a small gothic arch with a web of lead slicing the glass into sections. It was the only source of natural light which caused the rest of the room to seem heavy with shadows. The walls were lined with thick wood panelling, a backdrop for the centre-piece clock which had stopped dead on six and looked to have been broken for quite a while from the dust coating it.

There was a large bureau crammed into the width of the room and it dominated the space, leaving very little room for anything else. Tethered letters and scriptures, crumpled from use, were strewn in bulk piles across the floor, filling whatever space was left vacant around the table. The office was probably a fire hazard due to the mix of papers and flickering candles propped up on any surface that could keep them stable.

Cardinal was sitting on a weathered leather chair, slotted beneath the bureau, his attention firmly on some scattered papers that were being illuminated by a green desk light. He was deeply concentrated on reading, unaware that someone else was present.

Miss Vial freely walked further in, ensuring that she was quiet while familiarising herself with the surroundings as she didn't wish to distract him from his work. As much as the man appeared to be sucked into whatever he was reading, he was starting to frown like he had sensed something different. She stood in the middle of the place, her eyes still looking over everything as it was fresh to her.

"You are earlier than I expected." he suddenly announced with surprise, briefly flicking up his mismatched eyes to settle on the curious alchemist. "You managed to find the note, I see."

"Yes, I did." she replied with a nod, his eyes averting from her as soon as she acknowledged him. "Sorry you had to walk into a minefield to deliver your letter, it's not normally that messy."

He motioned a glove towards her, "Hey, hey, don't worry about it."

"I'm not complaining, but I should probably mention that you misspelled my name on your note." she said with amused cynicism, even though she was being completely honest.  

He paused and widened his eyes, leaning his forehead into his palm so that he could shield the sight of his embarrassment from her.

"Ah shit... I did?"

"Its "Vial" as in a container of fluid." she explained in a calm tone, averting her black eyes from him in hopes that it would make him feel less ashamed of his mistake. "Not the appalling kind."

"Shit, shit, sorry about that." he expressed humbly with a sigh. "I will take note of the spelling."

There was a silence for several seconds and Aemelia stood uncomfortably stiff, unsure what she was to do next. Cardinal was scribbling something down on the parchment that he was focused on, the scratching of his quill filling the awkward silence.

"What was it that you wished to speak about, your Dark Excellency?" she eventually spoke, wondering how much longer she had to wait before she found out why he had summoned for her.

"I, ahm, have been set quite a task, one that has been ordered from Papa himself. It's such a shit-show, I don't even know where I should begin."

He continued signing some papers as he sighed, his eyes firmly on the parchment but his mind still clearly on the conversation they were having. His very casual manner was still a surprise to her, she had presumed it was just something that he would put on for new-comers to set them at ease, but to her amazement it seemed like it was just how he was.

"Where should I begin, Miss Vial?"

She frowned in bewilderment, "The... beginning?"

"Yes, yes, perhaps. But then that would take all the afternoon, no?"

"Well it can't be so important then." she answered, very nearly snapping at him but it was clear she was holding back her short temper.

He sighed, "Very well. Come sit, if Sister ever queries why you were absent from the apothecary, you send her here, ok?"

She nodded and he raised his head up from the wall of script on the bureau to ensure she was sitting as he had instructed. The chair he expected her to use was one that was buried beneath a mountain of papers, so his gaze of expectancy had been odd to her. A cuban heeled shoe appeared from beneath the desk and he kicked at the chair, the mound of paperwork toppling onto the floor. Now the chair was no longer disguised, Aemelia stepped towards it and sat like he had insisted. Once the chair creaked with her added weight, he returned his gaze to his work, wearing a deep expression of concentration.

"Do you believe in the supernatural, Miss Vial?" he questioned sharply, his mouth twitching as he resisted the urge to smirk. 

"That depends, what classifies as supernatural? Given my position here, isn't that a stupid question?" she retorted defensively, unable to hide her true intrigue behind his inquiry.  

He curled his lips slightly, but she couldn't see the small smile due to his head being squarely focused down towards the desk. 

"Ah, so it's not so much a belief to you, more a... kind of knowledge?" he corrected, casting his mind to what he had witnessed the night before.

"Yeah, I s'pose."

"I see." he murmured, carelessly discarding the quill in his hand which caused black ink to spill across the parchment he had just been working on. "In that case, I was right in asking you here, I am in need of your expertise."

Her eyes gleamed with curiosity, "You are?"

"I promised you that I would not tell a soul about the events of last night, but I cannot ignore what I have witnessed." he declared confidently, sitting up straight in his chair to face her with sincerity. 

"And what was it that you couldn't ignore?"

"You absorbed that ugly thing's energy. I saw it with my own two eyes!" he exclaimed in a strain whisper, eyes wide as he stared at her with amazement. "I knew there was something different about you, but I would never have guessed that you were a vessel for dark energies, Miss Vial."

"I... I think you're confused. I only summoned - "

"No, no. I know what I saw. Fuck that fucking ugly thing you summoned." he replied passionately, curling his gloves into excited fists. "There is no use in denying it. You can be of great assistance to me."

She exhaled in defeat, knowing that there was no way she would be able to convince him otherwise and relaxed back into the armchair, sensing she was going to be there a while, "How so?"

"You can support me with what I have been tasked."

"Right... so, I would be your what? Personal assistant?"

"No, no, you will not be a mere assistant, more of a... consultant occultist." he told her in a high-pitched voice, gesturing a gloved hand like he was presenting something extravagant to her.

She raised her brows at the stress he put on the title he'd offered her, he was half-expecting to see a smile from her, but it never happened.

"I suppose I could lend my knowledge if it's needed." she reasoned, crossing her arms over her chest modestly. "What is this task I would be helping you with?"

His excitement over the opportunity he was offering her dropped almost immediately and he grasped his chin in thought, his expression unreadable. 

"I left something to fester and haunt the innocent people of London because I didn't think it was important." Cardinal admitted, a hint of shame in his voice. "I had bigger things on my mind, you know? Bigger than some fucking pathetic phantasm, I thought I was destined for better things than that. Yet Lucifer sent me an itty bitty ghostie, what a fucking joke."

Aemelia felt uncomfortable and immensely bewildered by what he was inferring but she didn't feel it was right to interrupt him. Something about what he was describing made her begin to sweat with nervousness, but she masked it over with a form of feigned interest.

"Either way, I fucked up. The whole thing went balls out and killed a lot of innocent people, and possessed someone posing as one of my own Ghouls. I currently have a lot of accidental deaths on my conscience and Papa is on edge about a fraudulent Ghoul roaming the Earth, it could jeopardise the whole of the Ministry."

He let out a deep sigh of relief that he had finally told someone and placed a hand over his face to cover his eyes. It was indisputable that the man was stressed and Aemelia had no clue what to say in reply, after all, he had outright admitted he was implicated in recent deaths, but there was the element of worried fear shining in her eyes for another reason entirely.

"I'll help you." she said quietly, and he lifted his head away from his hand immediately, wearing a subdued form of surprise.

"You will? You could be my only way of ridding what resides there."

She nodded and he sighed with relief, slouching back in his chair like a weight had literally been lifted from his shoulders. Just as she was about to open her mouth to speak again, he raised a finger up in the air to hush her, breathing deeply to calm himself.

"We are to travel to London tomorrow." he stated, nodding to himself. 

"What?! I can't just - "

"I will inform Papa, he will not refuse to have you assist me, I am sure of that." he replied coolly, placing both hands flat on the paper he had previously been working on so that he could fling it across the room. "The sooner we get this shit solved, the better."

8 : The Convergence

During the journey to London, Miss Vial had barely uttered a word. There were no questions from her at all like Cardinal had anticipated. There were no  inquiries about what exactly was lying in wait for them when they arrived, no mention of whether she would be paid anything for her assistance and not so much as a complaint about anything either. 

She had spent most of the morning flight in silence, burying her head in a classic Stephen King novel. She used books to cope with the ordeal of flying, she loathed being trapped on an air-plane with complete strangers for a few hours, so it was a way of forgetting about it... the stories she ended up reading were hardly calming, but she was easily sucked into their unsettling ideas. 

They eventually arrived in central London in the early hours of the afternoon, the awkward silence even present then, as they both sat next to one another in the back of a black cab. Cardinal spent the time peering through the window at the world around them. London had always been a city that intrigued him, it was filled with varying cultures and always brimming with activity, but he would have been lying if he was to say that he ignored how the place was rife with pestilence. It was overflowing with it in every form, and the man couldn't hide the fascination in his eyes.

While he studied the surrounding city, Aemelia was catching some quiet moments of sleep while she could, although she kept being awakened every time the taxi cab took a tight turn. Flights really exhausted her and she wasn't used to them like the cardinal was, given his extensive experience from touring.

It must have been forty minutes before they reached their destination, and Cardinal had been overly flashy with the way he slipped the taxi driver his cash before they both promptly exited the vehicle. The engine revved as the cab vacated the area and they were left to the spectacle of the tube station before them.

The pavement was bustling with tourists and commuters swerving themselves away from the area. The entrance was obstructed by a large cross-sectioned barrier to close the station off to civilians, and many were turning away as a consequence. There were a few stationary police officers on guard in hopes that it would deter anyone from trying to enter, and the sight of them was enough to cause Aemelia to be hit with the realisation of how serious the situation truly was.

Cardinal motioned for her to follow him through the current of people, and once she did, they jittered the flow of the public around them, snaking through to reach the closed station. There was a little more room where they were now stood and for that Aemelia breathed a sigh of relief. 

Cardinal approached the closed off station before them without a word, eyeing the descent of stairs through the gaps in the barrier. The strip-lighting was flickering erratically like it was responding to his presence, and he briefly looked back over his shoulder towards his consultant, the barrier before him slowly shifting to the left so that a small gap appeared.

Aemelia frowned in interest, flicking her eyes towards the two police officers standing guard, but they were acting like nothing was even occurring. When she returned her attention to the cardinal, he had already slid through the gap and was clawing his gloves into small nooks in the barrier.

"Come on." he whispered,  his eyes beckoning her to follow him, though he could sense a reluctance in her demeanour. "We don't have long."

She wondered how he could have known such a thing, but then she realised that the Ministry may have arranged the station closure in the first place. Then again, she wasn't certain how much power the Ministry possessed. 

She slipped through the gap and the barrier rumbled shut behind her, insisting that she was to descend the stairs with him, whether she wanted to or not. Neither of them appeared to study the place, too focused on their footsteps echoing off of the tiled walls. 

For the cardinal, it was like he had walked straight into reliving the mistake from those few months ago, and there wasn't the slightest peep of humour out of him for once. His lack of speech was unnerving but Aemelia was unsure whether that was so inappropriate considering the situation. 

The empty lobby was like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie, the small businesses in the nooks and crannies were boarded shut, scuffs and scratches coated the walls and blood was still dried in smears over the floor. It was clear that the station must have been closed since the event had occurred, and that alone had Aemelia questioning what they were about to face. 

Soon, they were approaching a row of turnstiles, each one out of sync with the other. 

"So... this thing... " she finally spoke, her mouth trickling out her thoughts without her mind realising. "this phantasm, how did it manage to appear here?"

Cardinal didn't turn to answer, still focused on reaching the barriers ahead.

"They are impulsive and reckless." he replied quietly, his voice still managing to fill the vacant space easily. "Once they are unleashed they follow their own whims and extract the energy they want from the living."

He paused and jumped the turnstiles with ease, smoothly turning back around to politely extend a right arm of support towards her. She raised her brows due to his gesture but was mostly surprised at how nimble he was. 

"I do know how a phantasm thrives, Cardinal." she responded calmly, rejecting his assistance by batting his arm away from her. "I understand how much energy would exist here due to the amount of people passing through each day..."

She cut off to hurtle herself over the barriers in a less elegant manner than he had, and he dropped his arm in quiet rejection, turning away from her so that they could cross the long space towards the second descent, the escalators. 

"... but this entire city is filled with people, energy could be generated anywhere. Why did it target this one hot-spot?" she continued speculatively, noticing how tense his shoulders seemed in her line of sight as she walked behind him. 

He wanted to tell her that it was because he had been present nearby, but he kept quiet, not wishing for her to change her mind about assisting him. The cardinal had certainly got the potential to be something greater than he was, but certain energies would respond to him in different ways, for reasons even he didn't understand.

"I think you are on to something there, Miss Vial." he declared with confidence, pausing as he peered down towards the long gradient of escalators that were at a complete stand-still. "I am sure you will understand once we find it, it can't have gone far."

They descended the stairs as quickly as they could, completing the entire stairwell in a matter of seconds. Cardinal did a twirl once he had reached the end and she rolled her eyes, wondering why he had suddenly returned to his playful self considering how unusually distant he had been for the entire way there. She was glad to see he was feeling a little more like himself, it was one less thing for her to be concerned about.

He paused as there was a choice of two tunnels ahead of them, one to the right, one to the left. He scratched the back of his head in thought, figuring they would probably have to take a chance and hope it was the correct one. 

What he didn't realise, was that Aemelia had entered a state of trance beside him, her black eyes wide open but void of any emotion, her breathing shallow like it was a lot of effort to breathe. Her arms were stiff by her sides, her hands curled up into fists. Her head slowly turned to focus on the tunnel to the left, which Cardinal only just spotted in his peripheral vision. She stepped forward purposely towards where she was involuntarily staring, her out of character way of moving capturing the cardinal's attention entirely. 

He frowned in concern, about to confront her about what she was doing but she was already half way into the tunnel, not even glancing back to see if he was going to follow her. He hurriedly pursued her without a word, slightly unnerved that something was pulling her to the train platform ahead of them... he wasn't sure what it was but he was certain that she had to be drawn to some kind of energy.

The soles of her black oxfords smacked loudly across the platform once they exited the tunnel, her steps getting a little more eager once the platform edge was in sight. The air was humid and there was a mild gust of it flowing through the vacant train tracks, causing the loose red hair around Aemelia's face to sprawl out before falling back to cling to her face again. 

Even though the cardinal was immensely unsettled by her behaviour, he couldn't help noticing remnants of ash and dust spewed out in branched explosions across the tiled floor. He was unsure what had caused such a thing, but he could only assume that it had once been a human being given the positioning of them.

Once he flicked his eyes back towards his consultant, she was only a few inches away from the platform edge, the tips of her shoes overhanging the end as she leaned herself forwards in an inhuman manner and tilted her head to the right so she could widely stare into the pitch black tunnel with concerning attraction. When she seemed to rock forwards slightly the cardinal started forwards to catch hold of her shoulders, he had finally realised that whatever was going on with her was entirely out of his control.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Kind of getting a lil' close there!" he yelled apprehensively, feeling the resistance of her shoulders in his grip, like she yearned to drop down onto the tracks, regardless of his sensible actions. 

"It's somewhere in the tunnel." she said simply in a deadpan tone, her eyes still fixated on the thick darkness like she was expecting something to appear out of it any moment. 

"It is?" he asked in disbelief, his gloves tightening their grip on her to ensure she wouldn't follow whatever impulse she had. The material of her suit jacket crumpled in his fingers as he followed her line of sight, spying nothing but the impending gloom of the train-line. 

He heard the dull clatter of something and it forced him to jerk his head back towards her... his heart pounded with fear as he grabbed fistfuls of black material, panicking once he realised that he was only holding onto her black blazer. She must have clambered onto the tracks when he had shifted his attention... he hoped to Satan that a train wasn't due in the next few minutes...

He glared at her blind confidence, the tinkle of her footsteps following the metal rails spiking his sense of dread. She seemed so small now that she was a few feet lower than the platform, alone and left to her own instincts.

"You'll get killed!" he shouted, pressing her jacket to him as real panic started to set in.

She ignored his sensible words, a small shimmering wisp glinting at her in the darkness ahead. Shadows soon enveloped her, the shiny red of her hair and the whites of her shirt sleeves only just visible from where Cardinal was stood, clutching her blazer to his chest like it was a comforting blanket. She was calm as nothing but thick blackness surrounded her, a hot gust of air blowing debris into her face. She narrowed her eyes defensively, pausing to wipe the dust from her eyelashes, the smell of coals underfoot becoming significantly potent. She paused to cough in complaint of the scent, the crunch of rubble sounding out as she took a few more brave steps forward.

She froze and inhaled sharply to hold her breath, an approaching sound of grinding cogs forcing her stomach to churn with nervousness. After a few seconds it seemed like the sound was flying towards her in a deafening wall of enigmatic moans, reminiscent of a train horn. She widened her eyes, expecting the floodlights of a train to appear any moment as the sound sped towards her, but they never appeared.

She felt the air dispersed to make way for something rushing towards her and before she had time to react a twisting tessellation of ever changing black particles seeped into her. She was forcibly thrown off her feet and landed over the tracks on her back, skidding over them as she coughed out in protest, scrunching her face from the uncomfortable position, despite the energy that had just flung into her. As she lay there, closing her eyes and catching her breath, a few more black particles emerged and gently collected together, siphoning themselves into her. 

"Miss Vial!" 

She cracked her eyes open at the sound of the cardinal's yell, peering up at the grimy ceiling of the tunnel with ease. Other than the scrapes over her back she couldn't say that she was in any pain of any kind, it wasn't like she had expected at all. She knew whatever had taken refuge within her was dormant, she didn't know if she should have been scared or intrigued... an energy had merely used her as a vessel before, but this one seemed adamant about staying for some reason.

"Miss Vial! Are you still there?! Are you... dead?!"

She huffed out in irritation, easily finding the energy to clamber herself up from the coal-stained tracks. She meandered towards the light of the station, soon catching sight of the cardinal peering over the edge of the platform with heightening concern. 

"Yep still here." she responded loudly, only just hearing his huge sigh of relief.

"All done." she added victoriously, though her expression didn't really match her voice as she stepped away from the centre of the tracks.

"Done?" he reiterated, running a hand through his mousy brown hair, which was no longer slicked back neatly as it had been before. "That quickly? We spent longer going through customs to get here..."

Just as a smidgen of a smile was about to touch her lips, his eyes faltered at the sight of her, his hands fiercely gripping onto her blazer again for comfort. Her black irises blotted outwards before his very eyes, her entire eye sockets cloaked in thick shadow. She tilted her head up towards him and he could tell from her movements and even her expression that she still appeared to be herself... but those eyes told him a vastly different story...

It was strange how sound travelled, and given Cardinal's heightened anxiety, he should have heard it coming from a mile off... but he didn't, and the tube train was rattling into his existence on the platform where she had been stood just split seconds before. He gasped with shock, tumbling back into a sitting position as the train continued to clatter over the tracks, his mismatched eyes shining over with the start of confused, grieving tears.

The aftermath of the train hitting her would be harrowing, but he couldn't refrain from staring as the end of the moving train appeared, snaking into the tunnel at the opposite end of the platform. He propped himself up with his elbow, eagerly grasping onto a hopeless wish that she was still alive somehow, shallow breaths of shock pumping out of him erratically. He slowly peeked further over the platform, expecting to see the visceral remains of Aemelia Vial smeared all across the train tracks.

But there was nothing there... other than a single scabby brown rat, that was scurrying over the tracks towards him. His jaw dropped slightly in confusion, tears still threatening to spill over and ruin the black paint around his eyes. He heard the hurried sound of scratching and extended out his arm in amazement. The brown rat scaled the wall with ease and clung onto the tips of his gloves that were at the very edge of the platform, climbing up so that it could scale over his hand and bury itself comfortably in his coat sleeve.

"What are you doing down there?" a familiar voice came from behind him, full of assurance and usual cynicism.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed with shock, clumsily skidding up to his feet so that he could swivel around and face her. "What... what the hell just happened?!"

"Well... you're the satanic cardinal, aren't you supposed to be an expert in these matters?"

He blinked away his tears and frowned at her sudden attitude towards him, it was almost like being ran over by a tube train had boosted her confidence somehow. She was practically immaculate, no fatal injuries, no cuts or scrapes even. He suddenly felt like an absolute fool. 

"Any guesses?"

He moved closer to her, trailing his eyes over her like he was expecting her to burst into flames any moment, or at least transform into something. But it never happened.

"Just how much energy can you hold?" he whispered and he closed his eyes in wonder, shielding over them with one of his gloved hands. "You had so much that you... you... you should be dead, Miss Vial! Plastered all over the walls, yet here you are, stood before me... I ... "

She dropped her overly cool manner about what had happened and was taken aback at his lack of words.

"Something attached itself to me... a weird shadowy thing. There was no animosity at all... it just... wanted me as its host." she explained calmly, the black vacuum of shadow slowly shrinking back to reveal the whites of her eyes. 

"It wished to possess you?" he asked suspiciously, rolling his right shoulder around as the rat he had collected began to curl up in the armpit of his sleeve. "Why would a phantasm wish to do that? Why, after killing all those innocents a few months ago? It has to be why you are living now, Miss Vial. Maybe it knew you were in danger."

She exhaled and blinked her eyes like she was suddenly tired, "Somehow I doubt that, but I applaud your optimism, Cardinal."

"You sure you're alright?" he questioned, placing his left glove firmly on her shoulder as he handed her blazer back to her. "It still resides with you, you are not in pain, are you?"

"Nah, no pain." she replied, taking her blazer to swiftly shake it back on. "Far from it."

"Cool, cool." he sighed out with relief. "The last thing I want to do is have to contact a Catholic priest to perform an exorcism right now, we don't exactly... get on, you know?"

She huffed a breath of amusement, shrugging her jacket into a more comfortable position before buttoning it up, "I'm not surprised."

"So... what do we do now? The issue was solved in... what, less than half an hour?" he wondered, his nervousness no longer present at all even though he was still very much concerned about the entity that was lying dormant within her.

"Not sure. Though I am pretty peckish." she replied, reassembling the position of her plaits slightly. He narrowed his eyes in interest as she did so, catching glimpse of a small tattoo which stretched from the back of her left ear to the skin of her jugular. He was surprised he hadn't noticed it before but he decided not to mention anything, still trying to process what had just happened. 

"Me too, Miss Vial." he replied, nodding his head in agreement as he gestured a thumb towards the exit. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

He led the way back to the tunnel, his mind still boggling over why everything was so... fine. It should have been tragic, dramatic, frightening, even. But there they were, heading out of the station having solved a supernatural investigation, with their minds very much on food. If the cardinal ever wanted to tell anyone about the events of that day, there was no way they would have believed him.

As he reached the tunnel to the escalators, a large otherworldly eruption sounded out and he flung his head around to face Aemelia immediately. It was like a thunderstorm had emerged inside, only without the rain. A strong breeze surrounded her, the edges of it flicking up the benches and bins forcefully to toss them back towards the waiting space on the platform. 

The cardinal shielded his eyes from the strong storm and ventured towards her, grabbing her forearm, regardless of the uncontrollable energy dispersing out of her form. He pulled her through the tunnel like it was nothing out of the ordinary, internally questioning what compelled him to do such a thing. 

After a few more seconds the energy snuffed out and her eyes returned back to their usual temperament. Loose objects in the tunnel had been messily scattered everywhere and the cardinal released his grip on her, elegantly hopping over a trashcan that had tipped over.

"Is that it?" he asked, turning back to face her with a hopeful expression, ignoring the urge to lose his mind again. 

"Yeah... at least, I hope so." she replied sincerely, nodding in thanks, though she knew he probably didn't see it that way."Once you let something like that in, you have to... expel certain things."

"Well of course, like little hiccups, ah? Or... maybe more like tiny tush toots." he quipped, smiling at his own joke as he prepared himself to scale the steep slog of escalators before them. "You like Chinese food?"

She stared at him quizzically, trying to ignore the fact they were seemingly carrying on like everything was trivial.

"Because I'm in the mood for Chinese food."

 

9 : The Breathing Spell

A few days since their visit to London had passed. 

As much as the cardinal and the alchemist had chattered freely for the majority of their trip back to the Ministry, they had gone their separate ways once they stepped back into their routines. 

That day in the underground was to be an implicit secret between the two of them, and to prove that, they had both agreed on distancing themselves. 

Now that the cardinal's problem had a solution - by all means, a rather concerning one - he had leisurely settled back into his duties and easily forgot all about the alchemist. She was still present in the back of his mind, and he knew he wouldn't have to think twice about asking for her help, should he ever require it again.

They had managed to avoid one another quite well for a few days, but they knew that they were bound to cross paths at some point. It was just incredibly fortunate that it was in the late hours of the evening, when most of the hallways were vacant of any prying eyes...

"What are you doing walking the corridors so late?" Cardinal asked with concern, his eyes falling onto a flat brown box in Aemelia's hand, the square shape giving away the reason entirely. He had jumped to conclusions considering it was the first time he had seen her for a while, but the fact that an entity was still very much a part of her was still present in his mind.

"I... could ask you the same question, Cardinal." she replied gracelessly as she clutched onto each edge of the box, her fingernails freshly caked in black paint. "I can't say I'm a fan of the canteen food here on a Friday, sorry."

"Ah, I see." he said with a sigh and a shake of the head, his calm approach towards the situation causing her uncomfortable manner to disappear. "A shame, but completely understandable. It hasn't been the same since Papa Emeritus the Second passed on, you know. Friday used to be his turn to devise the food menu, it wasn't like the shitty slop they serve now. If there is one thing I miss about that man, it is his fucking glorious food."

She was taken aback at how he was actually openly acknowledging her despite their silence and avoidance of one another in recent days. He noticed her expression immediately and cleared his throat, assuming she was lost at his words somehow.

"Don't worry... I won't tell anyone about that." he whispered, gesturing to the hot pizza that lay inside the box in her hands.

"I didn't realise that takeaway pizza was forbidden."  

"It isn't, you'll just get a lot of pals around here who try talk you into giving them a slice, y'know? By the time you get back to your room you will barely have a slice left for yourself."

"I'm not so easy to convince, Cardinal." she remarked undoubtedly, tilting her head to the side so that she could obscure a smirk from him. Before he could notice her form of a smile, she flipped the lid of the box open, revealing the most mouth-watering four-cheese pizza that Cardinal had seen in a while. The scent rippled through the air and he inhaled it deeply, unable to resist emitting an enraptured "Mmm!" of approval.

"But considering it's you, your Dark Excellency, you're more than welcome to take a piece." she added, her black eyes filled with amusement as he seemed to short circuit and stall for a few seconds, like he hadn't registered what she had offered him.

Eventually he lifted his brows in surprise and shook his hands in dismissal.

"No, no! I had better not." he faltered, with a hint of disappointment in his voice. "I have quite a few furry friends that would surely steal it from me before I ever got chance to eat it." 

She frowned in interest but didn't question him, dumbfounded without knowing the context of his answer. He suddenly began to fumble with something within the confines of his cassock like he was trying to frantically keep something from escaping a hidden pocket. Aemelia couldn't have looked more confused if she had tried. 

"Is... everything alright there, Cardinal?" she asked bluntly, propping down the lid of the box now that her offer of a slice had been dismissed.

"Suure, sure, it is all good, Miss Vial." he insisted, sliding a hand over the other which was still firmly inside the pocket, capturing hold of something to keep it still. 

She took her attention away from him as it wasn't clear what he was doing and decided to continue with their conversation despite his strange actions.

"You never did answer my question... not that I mind, you're absolutely entitled to your privacy." she affirmed, drawing his attention again.

"I didn't? Ah shush, I, I have a lot of things on the mind, you know? I am trying my best to ensure everything is in order. Papa is pleased that we have cleaned up what was left in London, but he is not pleased enough to appreciate any of the other work I do. Is that selfish of me?"

"Probably." she retorted shortly, wearing a serious expression as she nodded her head, her eyes filled with mirth.

He appeared to be hurt by her reply and his shoulders slumped in disappointment, his eyes falling to the ground in deep thought.

"But sometimes being selfish is the right choice." she added, wondering why the alchemist was the one giving the cardinal the advice. "I mean look at me, I didn't want to be food poisoned every Friday so I took action."

His disenchantment dropped from his body language and he let out a deep breath of amusement, "You give good advice. It's a shame that you don't have faith. You would be the ideal person to deal with confession."

She wondered what the hell satanic confession even entailed, but she quickly realised it was probably better left a mystery to her.

"You still didn't answer my question."

"Fuck! Sorry, sorry! I am still suffering from insomnia, you know? I am trying to bore myself early to get more sleep. Kinda difficult with someone like Papa on my ass."

She nodded in understanding, clutching the pizza to her chest to check it was still piping hot, her tummy rumbling from the thought of eating it soon.

"It would be great to just, have him be a little more sedate... but nothing seems to please him anymore. Though I am sure that your pizza would have pleased him immensely, he loves junk food..." he rambled and soon realised what he had said, widening his eyes in apprehension. "... don't tell anybody I told you that."

"I won't." she assured with a subdued smirk, shaking her head in amusement. "Promise."

"Good, good. Now go, eat your food before it gets cold." he demanded with feigned irritation, wagging a finger at her. "I will not take the blame for a cold pizza."

She sighed in amused defeat, "Alright, I'm going. See you around... "

She narrowed her eyes at him like she was trying work out how to say goodbye to him, torn between formality and informality.

"... your... Dark Excellency."

He dropped the imposing demeanour he had playfully put on and slouched back down into a casual stance.

"Right, right... see you round, kid." he responded uncomfortably, already internally kicking himself for saying such a thing.

She turned and glared at the ground as she immediately started to wander away from him. She was horrified at their awkward encounter of saying goodbye but was also in and out of stifling a laugh at how bizarre everything was between them.

For some reason, she got the feeling that the bizarre events were only just beginning.

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