THE MUSCULAR FLAMETHROWER WOMAN paced around the Cathedral altar — and she detected the three dead, executed nuns — and, also an Elite-force SWAT member with an axe jutting out of in her helmet. She turned and burned a row of pews ahead — and she challenged the hiding boy with a mockery...

"Every little boy loves to play with fire. So, where are you, you little punk-ass? Come out, come out now — and come play with me!"

The female Elite-cop sauntered around, and her eyes ferreted for any movement. Doran proceeded by moving silently, following her from the back and hid behind a huge pillar. He peeked and spotted the big and tall woman walking towards the vacant confession box.

"Are you saying your confession in there, you ugly shit? I forgive you, my son — with the Baptism of fire."

She flared the confession box interior with a sprit line of flame. The monk-robed Doran now moved closer towards the altar, and he hid beside the corpses of the nuns. His tears were flowing, looking up-close at the sisters who had been brutally murdered. His hand-picked up the chained incense thurible and next, a burning oil lamp that was on top of the bloodstained altar. He discerned the psychotic woman soldier who was laughing to her own jokes while burning another confession box.

Doran then plucked out the axe, from the dead soldier's helmet with a tug — and he disappeared again...

"Come on out, you son of a bitch!"

The frustrated woman called out in expiration. The annoyed Elite member looked up at a statue of a male bearded saint, staring down with sad eyes. "What are you looking at?" She torched the face of the statue.

Hidden behind an opposite pillar, Doran poured the oil from the lamp into the thurible. He peeked again and his eyes followed the woman, torching the pipe organ next — and she was screaming in chagrin, it now echoed in the empty cathedral...

"Where are you, boy-bitch? You can't fuckin' hide forever!"

Doran had the forbearance to gauge her movements and distance — he needed to be very cautious — or else, he would be killed by the fiery immolation if his attack was too soon.

The woman finally heard his voice echoing somewhere near...

"I am behind you!"

She turned quickly and shot a jet of flame in haste, it burned more pews nearby — but the guile Doran was not there.

The Elite-force cop turned her back again — she felt a hard push from behind her, with a clarion 'thonkk' like-sound — it reechoed loudly again, in the quiet Cathedral...

The flamethrower examined over her shoulder, she saw an axe lodged into her metal-tank backpack — causing fuel to seep out and trickle onto the floor where she stood...

"You bastard! Where are you — you fucking ugly monk!!?"

From behind the next pillar, Doran lit the thurible with a candlestick. He divulged his presence serenely out, to the open danger. He gaited towards the flamethrower holding the lit candle in one hand — and in the other was the thurible by its chain...

It was burning like a ball of fire.

"Here I am, woman..."

The soldier made a loud ire cry, she pointed the nozzle of her weapon at Doran, who was advancing sedately towards her. She then triggered a three-foot weak flame that spurted out — it barely touched the approaching boy, with the blazing thurible.

Doran began to gyrate the flaming thurible above his head, like a fiery spiralling lasso — the ensued flamethrower realized what repercussion that was about to come...

Her eyes widened in dread with the sound of the leaching combustible fuel, dripping out of her backpack tank — dribbling in between her legs to soak the floor — it made her appear like she was weeing while standing.

She turned around in an instant, as she began to exhort for her safety by dashing towards the broken door entrance of the cathedral. The running woman was almost there when Doran hurled the whirling thurible towards her...

She left a long trail of splattering fuel while she fled. The monk-boy — next — dropped down the candle...

The thurible flung over, and the chain reeled, strapping around the running woman's thighs — and the burning fuel ignited by Doran had reached in a straight-line towards the Elite-force member, who had dropped flat on the marbled floor...

It engulfed her.

The monk boy recognized her frantic, fraught movements jolting on the ground — petrified like the burning near-dead turkeys earlier in the yard...

It was so similar to the horrified incident of his screaming mother, who tried to save herself from her burning nightdress and her long hair He had seen her death from the crack hole of his locked prison door — when her fiery nightgown engulfing her — she ablaze naked, in their house basement five years ago.

The bleak voices of the dying were always akin — whether worshiper or nonreligious — they straightaway call out for their God...

The woman with the leaky fuel-pack similarly, screamed for her God, rolling as she incinerated in her black uniform — before an explosion eviscerated her body into half...

*

Sargent Olivia Wilkins from Cincinnati PD was stationed outside the main gate of the Cathedral with her reserve-team. They heard and saw the explosion, with debris spitting out from the building of the worship.

A three-edged, flaming boomerang far-flung into the air — and approached them, before it dropped and descended towards the main entrance gate of the Cathedral, where the reserve unit was stationed. The burning boomerang swung, as it hung high on the Cathedral main gate spiked bars, causing some of Wilkins' team to scream — and step away in horror...

One of the cops puked after learning, what was strapped and attached to the burning thurible — they were both of the flamethrower's severed legs — one leg had a missing boot which exposed, the deceased's charred foot with painted toes nails.

The petrified Sargent Wilkins next witnessed, the whole cathedral roof afar in a burgeon conflagration.

*

Doran stood and was gazing at the bloodied sanguinary altar, while the rest of the Cathedral engulfing in rolling flames. Sweat ran furiously over his scared-face, and he stared at the huge crucifix with the bleeding Christ statue, burning above the altar.

Behind him, ceramic saint statues burned, crackled and imploded in the fire from the burning pews.

He turned his head and noticed that the statue of Madonna with a child was also in flames, before it broke in two, with her child dropping and shattering on the floor...

"Say something, Mother!"

He was waiting for the voices to speak to him — but, he heard none — if the voices wanted to remain silent — well, he had something bitter to proclaim. He turned back, looking at the burning cross, hung high at the altar. With his arms wide open, Doran said his confession aloud...

"Forgive me, Father for I have sinned — I have sent three souls to Hell — and I pledge as your righteous soldier to take many more evil souls in Your Name — I will seek justice — for Your Holy Church — and I even will fight to my death, to achieve this in Your Righteous Name..."

Doran ended his short prayers, and he made the sign of the Cross...

"In the name of One God, My Father — and His fallen Son — and in the name of God's risen Holy Soldier — Amen!"

The virtuous Soldier of God climbed out of the burning building through the broken stained window after his declaration of his hatred and guilt — leaving behind the burning crucifix of Christ, which now fell on the altar floor on the corpses...

The ceramic statue of Madonna shattered a crack in the face by the sweltering heat — and the 'voice' finally called out to him...

"Where are you going, you Demon-boy?"

"To put a stop to your kind!"

The monk-boy walked out of the burning Cathedral with one cudgel club in his hand. He bent over to pull the other stick that lodged out, from the dead SWAT policewoman's mouth — he began running towards the Convent.

He now needed to rescue Sister Lisa Marie.