DISCLAIMER

Grace Barton does not own Shadow Hearts and is not associated with it or its creators in any way. This is a novelisation of the game and Grace only lays claim to the written form and original scenes and dialogue that do not appear in the game. Everything else is copyrighted to Sacnoth, the creators of Shadow Hearts.

Shadow Hearts [1st Instalment]

Grace Barton

Prologue

Rouen, France – 1913

Father Morris Elliot staggered through the cobblestone alley. To his left was the Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Rouen, or the Rouen Cathedral, as it was also known. The walls of the church seemed to fade into shadow as he moved, but it was not due to failing eyesight. His eyesight was as strong it had been in his youth; time and age had not weakened it. There was a different reason why his eyesight was failing him. A reason linked to the pounding in his head, and why his tongue felt thick and his throat felt clogged with blood. It did not take a priest to figure out what was wrong with him.

He was dying.

His foot stumbled against a cobblestone. The elderly priest lurched forward, splatting his hand against the church wall to keep himself from falling.

What he saw made his throat tighten.

His right leg was mangled. The fabric of his trousers was torn to shreds and stained with his blood. A combination of teeth and claw marks scarred his aging skin, leaving blood to ooze out of the wounds. His left leg was no better, though it was a little more intact. When his hand slipped from the wall, it left a bloody palm-print behind.

Gathering his strength, the priest forced himself to take a step forward. A shooting pain shot up his leg and into his chest, causing him to fall to his knees. He threw up. His vomit was black and grainy.

Blood…

Behind him, he heard a gentle tap. The priest stiffened and turned his head.

Twenty feet behind, a figure stood in the shadows of the church. His face could not be seen except for his eyes—piercing blue eyes that stared at him with such an icy calm it was hard to believe they belonged to a human.

Was he even human?

The clouds above parted. A sliver of moonlight slipped into the alley, highlighting the man's tall, slender frame. His face would have been kind if it were not the cruel smile on his lips, causing the wrinkles on his face to deepen and made the shadows on his face seem larger. In his hand he held an oak cane with a golden globe, polished to a beautiful shine. Father Elliot could see his reflection clearly in the polished surface, his features enhanced by the light of the moon.

He looked as pale as death.

The man took a step forward, his cane tapping against the ground. "Well, well, Father Elliot," he said. His accent was British. "You did not put up much of a fight, after all." Lifting his cane, he polished the globe with a cloth. "Seems you're not quite the exorcist the Vatican makes you out to be, hmm?"

Father Morris did not reply. He just stared.

The man finished polishing his cane and lowered it back to the ground. "But it is no matter. It was not your intention to defeat me, was it? You know you do not have that strength." He chuckled. "After all, isn't that why you came here?"

"How…" Father Elliot gasped, choking out the words through the blood in his mouth. "How much do you know?"

"Oh, just about everything," the man replied. "And more…"

Something moved in the shadows behind him. When he saw it, Father Elliot flinched and tried to stand. Another pain in his side brought him back onto his knees. A wave of dizziness overwhelmed him. He knew he would not be able to stand again.

"I also know," the man continued, "that the only reason you stayed behind was to give her a chance to escape."

He seemed oblivious to the priest's pain and efforts, and paced the width of the alley in steady steps, swinging his cane back and forth. Father Elliot made one last attempt to stand before sinking back to the ground. He gazed up at the man, and his lip trembled.

Alice…

"You will not have her," he said. "I won't let you!"

The man stopped. He slammed the butt of his cane onto the ground, making the priest flinch. He turned his face towards him, and Father Elliot felt his soul shrivel underneath that cold gaze.

"As far as I'm concerned, you've already given her to me," he said. "She has escaped for now, but my little bird will soon find her way into her cage. With you dead, there is nobody left to protect her. She will be all alone, and will walk right into my clutches. So you can rest peacefully, my dear priest. You have completed your task."

In the shadows he heard a growl. Gathering the last of his strength, Father Elliot rose to his feet long enough to take another few steps towards the edge of the alley. He felt the man's eyes watching him, making no move to stop him.

Before he could reach the edge, his strength gave out. He slid to his knees.

Alice… Forgive me…

The growling noise came again, this time louder. Something grabbed hold of his legs and yanked him back. Father Elliot fell onto the floor. The growl behind him turned into laughter, as sharp nails dug their way into his skin, tearing through his flesh. The priest gritted his teeth as pain wracked his body. Whatever was holding him then flipped him over onto his back. Claws dug into his belly, sending a fresh wave of pain and nausea through his body. Father Elliot choked back a scream, his fingers clutching the stones.

Not breaking his pace, the man came to stand over him. He placed the butt of the cane against the priest's chest. Folding his hands over the globe, he pressed down until the priest began to gasp and writhe.

"Why are you doing this?" Father Elliot managed to say.

The man's expression did not change. "You already know the answer to that," he answered. "But it is no longer your concern. Go to your rest, Father Elliot. Know that your death is but the first step on the road to change for this world. The next… lies with your daughter."

He turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows.

The growling resumed. Father Elliot turned his eyes to the sky, where the moon was just beginning to slip back behind the clouds. For the first time tears filled his eyes. Father Elliot took a breath. He held it within him.

A dark shadow rose above him. Rather than look at it, Father Elliot closed his eyes. He did not want that sight to be his last. Instead he conjured up the image of his daughter, his beautiful daughter, who had fled at his urging when the attack began. He was thankful she had been spared this sight.

Alice… I won't let them make you their key… Be safe… Please…

The growl ascended into a roar.

Then everything went black.

The body of Father Elliot was found the next morning. It caused terrible commotion for the otherwise quiet town. Despite the police's attempts to keep the details of the murder under wraps, some journalists managed to get photos of the body before it was taken away. The headlines of the papers that day told of a body that was brutally savaged, torn into pieces as though by a beast. And that his daughter, Alice Elliot, was missing…

A Note from the Authoress

Welcome to my novelisation of Shadow Hearts! Like with my novelisation of Koudelka, this novelisation is different to my others in that I am not including the original game script. This is my great experiment, to see if I can stick to character without use of the game script. I use the script for research purposes only, and to ensure I stay on track. I hope you enjoy it.