Mature Content Warning: Nothing really in this chapter

Author's Note:

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Chapter 24.3: Discordant Lullaby

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Several hours had passed. Scott had been forced to find a small space away from the inhabitants of the religious community and return to his natural draconic form. He had spent quite a bit of time resting while he thought of what he had witnessed that day.

The men here were a group of dangerous fanatics, but from what he had heard and seen they were being led by a man who was convinced that god spoke to him directly, and frequently. Father Atkins did not seem like a deranged man, and he spoke of those communications as a matter of course.

Something about the situation caused Scott to hold back on revealing his presence. With the exception of Rodrigo none of them, possibly even Father Atkins, were particularly dangerous for him to deal with. Their weapons were useless against his shadow form, and at any time he could simply use his aura to terrify them. It worked best in shadow form, as far as he could tell the less human he appeared when he used it, the more terrifying his presence could become.

Scott heard movement in the chapel below. He crawled forward slightly then peered through a crack in the floor. Father Atkins stood alone among the pews, his face filled with sadness and confusion. He walked forward then knelt down before the large cross on the far wall. The cross bore a life-sized carving of Jesus Christ crucified upon it.

“Lord, please, tell me what we have done is the right thing?” asked Father Atkins.

Scott listened to the man ask for forgiveness and answers for several minutes. His crisis of faith was centered on the order to kill him and his friends recently.

Father Atkins looked up at the cross and pleaded for an answer. He needed to know that what he had ordered done was the right thing.

A few minutes later Scott felt a strange pressure ringing inside his head. A soft, disturbing, sound began to resonate throughout the room. Then, to Father Atkins’ great joy and Scott’s utter surprise, then life-size replica of Jesus spoke!

“Be not worried. My will be done, as it is my father’s will. Your actions are good and right.” said the carving of Jesus before it lifted its wooden head and gazed down at Father Atkins with kind eyes.

Scott stared at the scene for a moment. What the hell was going on here? As he looked at the insanity below, the discordant sound grew louder, more intense.

Father Atkins fell on his face and began to grovel before the image of his lord and savior. The carving stepped down from the cross then looked down at the man groveling on the steps below. Had Scott human eyes he would not have seen it clearly, but due to his draconic sight he could clearly see the snot and tears pouring from the good father’s face. The man honestly thought that he was having an incredible religious experience.

Scott, however, was not convinced. That sound that he heard did not seem to be holy or divine. If anything it made him distinctly uncomfortable. It was more like the nightmare drone of a million locusts rather than the holy aria of the divine.

“Sleep my son. Sleep, and let the madness of your disquiet faith pass. Believe in me, only in me.” said the carving.

The cathedral door shut of its own accord, or so Scott had thought initially. However, as he gazed in its direction he saw strange movement through the air. It reminded him of the movie Predator. The strange distortion in the air stopped just short of the now slumbering priest then morphed into a humanoid form.

The carving disappeared instantly and reappeared back in its original position. It was as though it had never moved.

The new arrival hummed what sounded like a lullaby, but it was jarring and disturbing in its nature. While the father dreamed, the man who had come to call leaned over and placed his hands above him. Something barely visible began to rise up out of the sleeping man. Strands of smoky material rose up and floated toward the creature’s mouth. The humming stopped as the thing drew in this essential energy, feasted on whatever it was.

“Delicious.... but it’s not enough.” The creature moaned loudly then jet black wings with the feathers of a raven erupted from between its shoulder blades.

Instead of a simple hum, it began to lightly sing it discordant lullaby in a low but powerful voice. Father Atkins began to crawl about on the ground and cry aloud, but he did not awaken. He had every appearance of a man afflicted with some terrific night terror that he could not awaken from.

The creature stopped singing long enough to draw the essence out of Father Atkins once more. This time it moaned loudly in a bizarre, disturbingly orgasmic tone. “Oh, that’s the good stuff...”

High above the action, a tiny dragon gazed upon that scene and his entire body began to burn. He eyes flashed with a dangerous red light, and black lightning skittered along his scales. Deep within his chest a murderous desire had been born. He was not sure what that thing was, though he did have an idea, but he did know one thing. He needed to kill it until it died.