Chapter 3
The Priest who went walking in the Park that night.
At the age of 25, Connor had the idealism of youth and a profound faith to back it up. He was newly come to this huge city, a young man of average build, flaming red hair and the pale skin of his Irish ancestry. He had been called to the service of The Lord from an early age; even as he sat at his grandfathers knee as a child, listening avidly to his stories and wild tales, he knew. He had joined the local seminary upon leaving school, a tiny church in a his tiny village home. He studied avidly, and well, soaking up the biblical laws until he could hold no more in his soul. Recently, a rare opportunity had come his way, an exchange program of sorts amongst the younger priests. His destination was New York, as far away from his sheltered upbringing as one could imagine (or hope for). Now he was here, part of a huge congregation, a pristine chapel right on the edge of the famous Central Park. Had it not been blasphemous to think so, Connor might have been in Heaven. Or Hell, depending on close you looked under the surface of this city.
This particular evening saw the young priest doing what many would not, he was walking in Central Park in the dark. Connor was not particularly concerned at the darkness itself, after all it was a full moon, with plenty enough light to see one's way by. He had on the typical dark clothing of priesthood, broken only by the white band around his collar. Over one shoulder he had slung a small satchel, filled only with his dogeared bible, some pamphlets and coupons for the soup kitchen which was run by his parish. He walked briskly and confidently through the trees and undergrowth of the huge expanse, marveling once more at the sheer size of it all. He had been coming here nearly a whole month and was still finding glades and trees he'd not seen before. Occasionally he stopped to spend time with the park vagrants, beggars mostly, some a good deal rougher but welcoming him all the same. Connor was not naive enough that he didn't realise that it was the food coupons and not necessarily his message that allowed him access to these unfortunates, but men were more apt to hearing the Truth when their bellies were full, he knew.
He had moved quite deep into the park this night, almost so that the constant hum of the city was inaudible. He stood wondering if he might turn back and seek out his own shelter within the church, when he heard a rush of running feet coming towards him. The person ran lightly, barely disturbing the bushes and Connor could hear heaving breathing, gasping as the runner burst through the trees and very nearly collided with him. It was a young woman, tiny of build, short hair, big blue eyes, white skin. She had on a short skirt and blouse in a style like that of a waitress, in fact she did have a pencil and small pad of paper in her skirt pocket. She was flushed and looked like she'd run a mile or more. He reached out and caught her upper arms, steadying her.
"Whoa there!" he said, "Whatever are you doing running around in the middle of the night? Are you in trouble, is someone chasing you?
She stared at him comically for a second and he wondered if she might be on drugs or some such, unaware of her predicament. But no, her eyes were clear, her speech not slurred.
"Well, you might say it like that" she replied, half smiling, suddenly concious of this man's arms on hers. Quickly he released her.
"I think you need help, miss" he stated slowly, as if to a child. She shook her head no, then her attention wavered as she stood listening and looking around her. She made as if to scurry off again.
"Please miss" he stammered, "It's not safe here, come back with me to my church"
She looked at him solemly for a moment.
"No, it's not safe" she replied earnestly, "But I am in no danger tonight"
The young woman darted away from him then, vanishing quickly into the dappled darkness of the trees.
"Miss, miss! Come back, please!" he cried out. But she was gone. He was torn now, unable to decide a course of action. He sighed loudly. He couldn't in good consience leave this girl to her fate, no matter how little she could see her own danger. Carefully he started picking through the dense undergrowth, heading in the direction she had taken.
After some few minutes he began to see a parting of the trees ahead, in which the full moon shone straight down into. Soon enough he spotted his elusive quarry on the far side of the clearing, and he also saw straight away that she was no longer alone. In front of her stood a tall dark form ( a man, he guessed ). Quickly Connor slid in behind the roots of an ancient oak, thinking furiously about what to do next. He carried no weapons, not even a mobile phone. He himself was no fighter, and the male figure, although quite a few feet away, was imposing. Peeking from his hiding place, he saw that the young woman had run to the man and they were embracing, kissing. With a shock, Connor realised what was likely to take place. Whilst still a virgin as befitted his status as a priest, he was not completely innocent of the nature of human relations. He peeked again, blushing furiously as he saw that the man had stripped the girl of every stitch, and she was making short work of his clothing as well. Connor averted his eyes from the sight, but he made no attempt to leave his hiding spot as he was desperately afraid they would hear him and catch him. He could well imagine the ensuing scandal of the "Peeping Priest".
The risked another (forbidden!) glance, and saw a sight that would stay etched in his mind for the rest of his life. His mouth dropped open as his eyes and mind fought to comprehend what he was seeing. The man had a tail! There was no other way to describe it, a real, moving, wagging tail. It was silvery gray in the moonlight with a black tip and it was fully two feet long, bushy like that of a wolf. And what's more, as the (man, his mind questioned) turned around, he saw a long ridge of fur or hair running like a crest down from between his shoulder blades to the base of the tail. He watched, both fasicinated and appalled as the (creature?) bent over the woman and bit right into the back of her neck, proceeding to couple with her in the fashion that a wolf or a dog might. She was in no way resisting him, encouraging rather.
Connor could look no more. His mind seethed with images, and whilst he could close his eyes, he could not do the same with his ears. As he sat there in the darkness, his became both terrified and, strangely, elated. Surely this creature was a demon, a beast from the depths of the firey pit. No one he knew of had seen or conversed with such a one as this. Some even doubted their existence, secretly whispering that the church had simply played along with local folk stories of long ago, turning the villains into God-cursed evildoers, as suited the times. Connor, however, was quite prepared to believe. Unknowingly, his own grandfather with his so called tall tales had prepared him for the sight just witnessed.
"Oh yes, my little lad, it was a horrible sight to behold..." He could hear his papa's words again. "Should'a seen it, all wings and pointy ears an' all"
"What did ya do, papa? Did ya kill im?
"My word I did, shot straight between them eyes, even glowing as they did..."
Connor felt his chest swell with a kind of mixture of pride and exilaration. Surely God had chosen for him to witness this thing. Now all he had to do was make the right choice with the information provided. Presently, after what seemed like an eternity, the commotion in the clearing reached an obvious climax. Then, the howling began. Connor heard what he thought was a low rumbling whine which grew slowly in intensity until an unmistakeable wolf howl rang through the trees. The wolfsong brought shivers to Connor's spine, and strangely, tears to his eyes. A glimpse back through the oak roots confirmed it, it was the demon who was howling, head up to the moon, longish dark hair tangled against his (it's) neck. The young woman seemed unharmed, even as she tried to join her voice with that of the males', but her imitation was just that, it lacked the basic tones and depth. Connor did not think she was a demon, no doubt just a spellbound consort.
The couple kissed again and gathered their clothing together, dressing unhurriedly. The demon took great care to conceal it's tail and back crest and when it finally stood up to it's full height, Connor doubted whether anyone could really spot the obvious differences. Holding hands and kissing again, they left the clearing behind and disappeared into the night. Unable to help himself, the priest followed.