Jacob helped himself to the bathroom of the stranger's house, using the sink to scrub the blood off his hands. Afterwards, he dragged himself downstairs to the main room, and eyed the family that sat huddled together on the couch; the distressed look on all of their faces made his mouth twitch with frustration. Eventually, one mustered up the courage to look at him, a trace of hope in the father's eyes. Jake shook his head, causing the man to burst into more tears, his family soon following his lead.
Jake didn't bother with consoling them; he rushed to the front door and let himself out, heading towards his car. Once inside and buckled in, he let out a sigh mixed with a grumble as he turned the key and stepped on the shift pedal, starting the car. It was a quick drive to the Cathedral, where he parked in front and stepped out.
After entering, he headed for the meeting room, only to be stopped by two Priests guarding the door. Same old, same old.
"I'm here to see the Cardinal." When the men didn't move, Jacob scoffed and pushed passed them anyways.
By the time he got into the office, his mood had went from indifferent to flat out annoyed. The Cardinal, sitting at the end of the table in the center of the room, acknowledged Jake with only a look before he started with business.
"Do I have to send in a clean-up team?" He asked, standing and approaching.
"It'd be a good idea, yeah." He responded, trying to keep his tone civil.
A sigh left the elderly man, followed by a turn of the head. "He was just a boy, it's a shame." He commented, disappointment lingering in his tone. Jacob was about to retort with his usual, that he wasn't just a teenage snot-head anymore, but the Cardinal continued on before he had a chance. "I need you to run an errand for me." His saddened tone seemed to make a quick recovery.
The request made the dirty blonde's irritation flare, and he let out a strong exhale through his nose as his only form of defiance. "What is it?"
"Drive down to the St. John's Seminary school and drop off these papers. We're getting a new Deacon here, he's training to become a Priest."
"You mean… the one in Camarillo?" Jake said, begging for an opportunity where he could say 'Fuck no' and walk out.
"Of course."
He rolled his eyes, both at the hour long drive and the addition to the Church. "Right now? It's getting a bit late, isn't it?" Perhaps he could hold the drive off until tomorrow.
"They're already late. I called and told them that they would be delivered tonight." Or not, whatever.
With another troubled sigh, Jake agreed to the task (not that he had much of a choice) and was sent on his way with a handful of papers.
An hour long trip was extended by forty-five minutes, no thanks to evening traffic. With a line of cars on either side of Jake's, the little patience and comfort he had was quickly demolished by claustrophobia and honking horns.
By the time he arrived at the school, any hope of having a civil conversation with a stuck-up receptionist was lost. Being able to maintain his composure was going to be difficult, and he had a feeling he would end up punching someone; either a teacher, or worse, the principle. Knowing his luck, it'd be the latter.
He started towards the small main building, obviously only used for offices, folders tucked under his arm, with both hands in his pockets. He was grateful, to say the least, for the signs that saved him the trouble of searching for the main office, which was only around a few corners.
With a stern look, he approached the front desk, waiting for the attention of the elder woman typing away at a computer. "Hey," he forced out, trying to sound polite. "I'm here to drop off these papers for Cardinal White of St. John's Cathedral in Los Angeles." Dropping the papers down in front of her, he pushed them forward to allow her access.
The receptionist looked over the papers briefly, then looked up to Jake with a polite smile—which made his teeth grind—before saying, "Alright, thank you very much, sir." And with that, she got up and went to deliver the files elsewhere.
For a moment, Jacob wondered if that was really it. No more talking? No over explaining? A quick breath for a chuckle was released through his nose as he turned to walk away.
More than happy that that was it, he started for outside again, making it halfway to his car before sudden pressure on his bladder caught his attention, making his stare shoot up.
Not wanting to go inside to ask, he looked around for the nearest local—someone that looked like they had been there awhile. The first person to catch his eye was a young man, dressed in clothes that made him look as if his mother decided everything for him. Obviously a student.
He approached, making the meek boy come to a halt, and with the most civil and casual tone he could muster up, he started. "Hey, where's the nearest bathroom?"
The boy basically jumped out of his skin at the sight of Jake's intimidating appearance. "Uh—The closest one is in that dorm building, right over there… I'm heading over there right now. I suppose I can lead you there."
Jacob nodded, unable to ignore the growing need to take a piss. The walk over was quiet, and a bit awkward to say the least, which wasn't surprising. When they finally came into the building, the school boy pointed in the direction of the bathroom, and Jake took off without a goodbye.
Forcing himself to ignore the fact that this bathroom doubled as a shower room, which he could tell by its size and the sound of a running shower somewhere in the back, he rushed to one of the stalls to relieve himself. If he couldn't see the actual showers from the entrance, then he didn't care too much.
In the process of washing his hands, Jake's keen sense of hearing caught onto a small cry coming from the back of the bathroom. It was faint, but still sparked his interest. After shutting the water off and drying his hands, he listened again, only to determine that it seemed like cries of pain.
That part of Jake he regretted was there—that God Damned (literally?) Heroic part—took over and he headed towards the source of the noise, which happened to be the showers that he had tried so hard to ignore. As he got closer, the sounds got more frequent and louder, feeding each of his cautious steps. Soon, he was turning the corner and stepping on tile, peeking around the wall of the group showers.
To Jake's dismay, it wasn't a student lying on the ground, bleeding from the head from a slip-and-fall. Jake may be a morbid prick, but that simply wasn't the case here. Instead of a young man hurt, it was a young man pleasuring himself.
The sight brought immediate shock and made his throat clog up. His head shot back at the sight and he took a step back, obviously making some sort of noise, because the boy heard him and actually jumped.
"AH!" The boy yelled out, and Jake tried to turn and run away, but before he could, the boy was already doing just that, actually slipping as he did so. The irony.
Thankfully, it didn't maim him too badly, because he quickly retaliated and continued to flee. Jake swallowed hard and rubbed at his throat, unable to control the snicker that came after the shock was eased. He waited a few minutes, making sure the boy was gone and out of the bathroom, before he took his own leave.
Jake's temptation to tattletale on the stranger wasn't very high. In fact, he was almost proud of such a sight (not in a sexual way, by any means). Seeing a Priest-let masturbating when he thinks no one else is watching… It shined a little light on the fact that being filled with lust isn't only a demonic quality.
On his ride home, his mood was lighter. With the traffic gone and his self-esteem just .1% higher, it was hard not to be in a good mood.
The next few days were plain; no jobs to do, no unexpected trips to the church. Just relaxation time. It made the call he got on Friday a little more bearable.
Another assignment, Jake assumed, considering there hadn't been any apparent demon activity in the past few days. He made his way down to the Cathedral within the hour to get the report.
Once there, he noticed Cardinal White was working at his pedestal, shuffling through some papers. Jake approached, stopped beside it, not bothering with a greeting.
"Jacob," White sighed out comfortably before finally looking up at him. "I wanted you to meet our new Deacon."
Jake should've known. He was the one who delivered the papers, anyways. He held back a scowl as he didn't bother to listen on. Instead, he looked around, searching for the fresh-meat.
"Ah, here he is right now." The words stood out from the rest of the blabber, making his head turn to look. "Jacob, meet Deacon Riley." He motioned to a young, mid twenties with short, dark brown hair and… notable blue eyes. Something about him seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
It took him a long moment and the gawking expression on the boy's face for Jake to realize, and his own expression almost changed to that of the Deacon's, but he held it back.
"Jacob Greyman." He said, voice far too stern, even for pushed politeness. Extending his hand, his eyes became glued to the clear blue ones.
Riley's face had been forced to relax by the time he shook Jake's hand. The shake was tense and it was easy to tell by his shaky touch that the trainee was shaken up. Then, it dawned on Jacob. With knowledge like his, he had complete control over the boy. If he spilled the beans to one of his bosses, the boy could be out of the program.
Now, that wasn't Jake's intentions. It's not like he was out to get him. Why would he be, anyways? It wasn't as if he had done anything wrong, in normal people terms. Priest terms, not so much, but that wasn't any of Jake's business. It was just masturbation, it really wasn't that big of a deal.