Lest Darkness Falls on Yorknew
The evening sun set across the valley of Yorknew, the soft light hitting the stained glass of the chapel. High priestess Cheadle started lighting the candles around the small alter, careful to put any flammable offerings of to the side. Many townspeople had tried to convince her that there was no need to keep the chapel open through the night, but she had gotten used to reject their concerns. Afterall, it wasn't just a house of worship, but a safehouse and refuge for anyone who may need it.
And lately, it seemed like people needed it more and more.
The past few weeks had become increasingly strange and frightening to everyone. More and more livestock had disappeared or turned up slaughtered, and rumours of vanished villagers had started to circle. In the night, people would beg in front of the chapel doors to find shelter in the arms of a higher power, convinced that a lingering presence was going to pull them into the darkness otherwise. So, the priestess would grant them shelter, and let them wait out the night. Afterall, who was she to deny them faith, even it was only temporary in the face of danger?
The last of the red-wax candles had been lit, as the cherry oak wood doors of the chapel opened. A slender silhouette stepped through, gracefully descending the aisle towards Cheadle. As the doors snapped shut, the dimmed light through stained glass and candles revealed the figure and hugged her soft features.
"Lady Cheadle, may I have a word?" Gels soft voice echoed in the hall, and though she still carried herself with her usual composure and pride, nervousness flickered behind her eyes.
"Of course, what concerns you?"
"The people have been restless. Talk about a monster reaping animals and humans is surfacing, a hunter in the dead of night, they are looking for someone to blame..." The taller woman laid her right hand over her heart and averted her eyes from the bright altar. Cheadle smelled trouble.
"…Some have resorted to accusing me of being some sort of creature of the night." Figured. When things go wrong, most often people would seek an explanation in monsters, or God. And usually Cheadle would leave them to draw their conclusions like that, there had never been a reason to interfere in human reasoning. But when people start to point fingers at each other, that is when things become dangerous. Hysteria, Accusations, Murders. And between all of that, people would request the churches high judgement. A hassle in organisation, work, and moral justifications. If the worst would have come to the worst, higher branches of the church would have to intervene. No, this must end before it may even begin.
"I have spent my entire life in this town, Lady Cheadle, this is my home, and I would never hurt anyone here. I don't want to be forced to leave because of baseless rumours that threaten my safety." For a second, Cheadle was able to imagine why someone would claim that Gel was not human. The way her sleek, black hair hugged her figure; The way her teal eyes were clear and piercing even in the dark. Her aura could easily make any room feel suffocating and intimidating if she wanted it to. And of course, that terrifying pet snake she kept enclosed in her home, shining black like her hair.
But Gel was more than that. She was also a dedicated and passionate community helper, had been working in the mayor's office for almost a decade now, and once in a while the people of the village were able to listen to her gentle voice recite love poems late nights in the tavern.
"Anyone has the capabilities to take a life, but it takes a soul abandoned by all gods to commit the act. You are not that kind of person, anyone willing to look can see love and spirit in your soul. You're human, Gel, and I will help you prove your innocence." Cheadle gently placed her hand on the taller woman's shoulder, an act of compassion and reassurance.
But in her head, all the priestess could think of was, How the hell am I going to do that?
The sun had long set, as the quiet night enveloped the valley in darkness. The high priestess sat at the altar, pondering this new quest she had gotten herself roped into. Proving someone's innocence is easier said than done if the people have already made their minds up about someone's guilt.
Once more the chapel doors creaked open, though this time it was only a stray dog carefully stepping down the hall. Even animals can sense the danger lingering.
The animal sat beside Cheadle, resting its head on her lap with a soft whine. Dogs were truly man's best friend, creatures full of empathy, trust, and trained skill. A well-trained dog can execute any task, its only motivation being treats and affection. She petted the dogs head, "If only you could solve this problem for me…"
A cold wind threatened to blow out the freshly lit candles, prompting Cheadle to rise and hurry to close the doors. However, first she let her sight wander of the valley below, distant lights fighting against the night.
And the mansion at the other side of the village, hugging into the mountains. A shiver ran down Cheadle's spine at the sight of the bright lights penetrating even from so far, a mockery of how riches can even bring you the sun into your very home.
5 Weeks ago, the entire mansion had been bought by a man and his "entourage". Though the people that live there with him have been barely seen, the owner of the house had the decency to introduce himself to the most prominent townspeople- the mayor, the banker, the tavern owner, and of course the High Priestess herself.
He was flashy to a painful degree. He wore a Baker-Miller pink suit, glossed black shoes, and flaxen hair that Cheadle doubted was natural. During his introduction he flashed a smile at her, so bright it was almost blinding, but his eyes reflected none of it, instead just revealing a deep darkness. He had shook her hand, told her about how he was so lucky to meet her in town that evening so he didn't have to make the exhausting walk up the mountains to the chapel, and introduced himself as "Pariston Hill".
It was all fake smiles and pretentious flattery. Cheadle could smell dishonesty all over him, nauseating and repulsing.
That encounter had been 5 weeks ago.
The first missing person's report had been filed a week later.
A cold shiver ran down Cheadle's spine. Could it be…?
Cheadle wasn't sure where to start. The sun had risen, and a new day came with a new goal: To investigate the Hill Mansion and the people within. It couldn't be a coincidence that the atmosphere of the town had changed as soon as these people had arrived. But what happened to those who had disappeared?
In the end, she had decided to go early into town and ask others if they had noticed anything suspicious, trying to leave names out for now. But she didn't have to ask around for long before a young girl selling flowers nervously fidgeted closer.
"The gentleman that lives in the old mansion is an… odd one, Priestess."
"How so?"
"Two nights ago, I was walking home from the town over, I had forgotten the time…He surprised me from the alleyway. Asked if I was cold, and if I needed a place to stay. I told him no, I was almost home, but he kept talking about a warm meal and company. And despite knowing better, for a second, I thought about…actually reaching for his hand. But my mother called for me, thank the Lord."
Alarm bells rang throughout Cheadle's mind, suspicious suspicious suspicious.
"I don't want to say he's a bad man! Maybe it was a sincere offer, but lately, you know, it just hasn't been save…" The girl tried to stutter out more, but Cheadle gently took her hands into her own.
"You need not say more. Thank you for opening up to me, you did the right thing by leaving." This seemed to have calmed the girl enough to say a light goodbye and made her way towards the marketplace.
Cheadle sighed, a knot tying in her chest. It had only been one person who gave a suspicious account of Pariston Hill so far, but it felt like it made sense.
And it would continue to make sense, as more and more people gave accounts of strange encounters with Pariston, people associated with him, or around the old mansion. Often it would just be described as an "odd and eerie" feeling, though a handful of people had talked with inhabitants of the mansion and expressed discomfort and a feeling of immediate danger.
Perhaps it was just over imagination, or a drive to please. Cheadle asked about suspicious activity, and people could satisfy the need to gossip. Just like how some people felt the need to talk about "that weird snake lady" or "that guy in the woods". Though Cheadle was less eager to defend the later.
But what was she to do with these new accusations running rampant in her mind? She couldn't just run up to the guy and ask him his business, and if he has dead, Lord no - hopefully alive, bodies piled up in the basement.
Lost deeply in her thoughts, the setting sun had slipped her mind, and soon she was engulfed in the dim light of the town's streetlamps.
"I felt the hairs at the back of my neck stand-up" Is what one person had said, and she felt it.
"Every little part of my body suddenly wanted to run, no matter where, just away" Another recalled, and she felt it.
"He appeared out of nowhere" One described, and she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Lovely evening for a stroll, isn't it, Lady Cheadle?" The Priestess turned around to face Pariston, this time dressed in a vermillion suit. His eyes pierced through her, as if he tried to strip layers of her skin off her with just one look.
"How funny, I was just thinking of how lovely it would be to be comfortable in my own home. I'll be on my way- "
"Let me accompany you. I heard it has gotten somewhat dangerous to wander the streets alone as of late." The hand on Cheadle's shoulder grasped slightly firmer, insistent.
"The walk up to the chapel is strenuous, I'd rather not bother putting you through that work."
"And I'd rather not have the towns beloved priestess be found slaughtered like a lamb at the chapels steps." Cheadle's blood ran cold. Was he trying to threaten her, or was she merely listening to the ramblings of an odd man? Slowly, carefully, she turned her heels on the road, determined to not let herself be cornered.
"If you insist, you can walk me to the edge of town. From what I've heard, most suspicious activity happened in the town itself."
Pariston stepped smoothly to her side, and flashed another smile, satisfied. "From what you've heard? Are you perhaps priestess by day, detective by night?"
Cheadle waited for him to be finished with chuckling at his own joke before she carefully chose her words. "I've been merely curious if someone might have been witness to an abduction or has any clues to a possible explanation for all of this."
The man leaned forward and looked expectantly at her, though she took a couple more steps in silence before continuing. "Though no abduction has been witnessed, it seems the people have possible culprits figured out. But perhaps they are just wildly pointing fingers."
"And who are those fingers pointing to?"
"Anyone who is deemed worthy of it- the source of a long-held grudge, someone that stands out unfavourably, strangers..." Their eyes met sharply as Cheadle bit her tongue, afraid she might have said too much already.
"My, my, that's a lot of options. You know, I used to help a detective once when I was younger, maybe I should try to sink my teeth into this case..."
The Priestess stopped in her tracks for a second, startled by the remark. It was a common expression, yet it sounded wrong and twisted said by him and his shining grin. The edge of town was only a couple of meters away, the path up to the chapel laid dark further ahead.
"Unless of course, the people would have any reason to accuse me and my associates of these accidents."
They were engulfed in the light of the last streetlamp marking the end of town, and Cheadle came to a halt, Pariston still at her side, though he was looking straight ahead into the darkness. "But they wouldn't have any reason to, would they?"
She faced him and raised her head in defiance. "You're a stranger. If the people find you suspicious, they'll have their reasons."
He giggled lowly in response, slowly cocking his head to return her stare. "I'm a little hurt. I always thought people of this area were nice and welcoming."
"They are, if their life isn't at stake."
"Maybe I just have to change their minds about me. If their treasured Priestess would be convinced of my innocence, I'm sure they'd follow suit. How about you accompany me for food and drink, Lady Cheadle? My associates would love to have you for dinner." He reached for her hand, which she quickly withdrew, and took a step back.
"The offer is appreciated, though I'm afraid I have to refuse."
"Please, I insist. I'm a surprisingly good cook, my filet mignon is to die for. " His dark eyes pierced through hers again, and suddenly she felt weak in her steps. He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder again. "You want to accompany me, don't you?"
The ringing of alarm bells grew stronger in her ears, but most of her strength had left her body. Kick him, bite him, punch him, scream for anybody to help, none of her commands seemed to reach her limbs.
"A pretty, young lady like you shouldn't stick her nose in dangerous business, dear priestess." He whispered in her ear, followed by a chuckle. And as he stepped back, Cheadle's feet followed, no longer under her own command.
Is this how I die, Lord? Slaughtered by the very beast I tried to protect others from?
Her body continued to follow Paristons, as he walked along the edge of town, strategically dodging light sources and spying eyes. Cheadle prayed for forgiveness, for strength, for any divine intervention.
And suddenly a scream echoed through the night, sharp and high pitched. Just as suddenly, Cheadle felt all her strength return to her, master over her own body once more. In front of her, Pariston started cursing at a dog that had dug its teeth firmly into his calf. The gashing wound had covered most of his lower leg in blood in a matter of seconds.
Cheadle took this opportunity to turn and run. But where to?
The Police? There was probably a good reason that they haven't started an investigation of their own so far. Maybe they have been manipulated or bought out.
The Chapel? That's the first place he'll come looking for me if he decides to come after me.
Gel? I can't put her in even more danger.
She made her way up the path at the side of the mountain, though she turned left, away from the chapel. There was only one person she could ask for help. A person not involved with the town. A person just as dangerous and foolish as Pariston.
The dirt and stone path had turned overgrown with grass the deeper she ran into the woods. The darkness around her grew thicker, and the only sound were her quick footsteps and quicker breaths.
Minutes in this silence passed, until the woods cleared around her, and a small cabin revealed itself. It looked fairly old, the wood splintering and worn down from weather.
But inside a light was burning.
Cheadle came to a halt at the door, knocking and rattling at the handle.
"Ging! Please open, Ging!"