Behold! 'Tis a new chapter. :) Story is also now with 100 percent more chapter titles and a cookie to anyone who spots the pattern.

000

Pietro quickly tired of the game; reading a book was better since he could flip the page as soon as he'd read it. Video games, however, could only react as quickly as they were animated to move. Whatever pace the character ran at was the pace he was forced to follow, and it was beginning to wear on Pietro's nerves. With no new books to read and the television broken thanks to Wanda, he decided to go outside.

000

Father Enrico Maxwell had just stepped outside of the building and was heading towards his car when suddenly he heard a pounding noise behind him. Turning around, he saw a boy at the basketball hoop set up on the side of the house. Strange. He hadn't been there a moment before and it seemed as though he would have noticed him come out; it was a lengthy distance between the side door and the hoop.

More than that, he seemed to be moving at a strangely quick pace whenever he went to catch the ball after it went through the netting. Stepping back, Enrico regarded him for a moment. Then he fixed a smile on his face and walked over to the boy. Pietro remained oblivious and continued shooting baskets, moving faster than he realized.

"Hello," Enrico said, out of the blue. Pietro dropped the ball, startled.

"Hello, Father," he said, giving the priest a respectful nod.

"It looks as though you're having a lot of fun there," Enrico continued.

He shrugged. "I guess. Was there something you needed, Father?" He asked, anxious. Usually the only time a priest other than Father Anderson ever talked to him, it was because he was in some sort of trouble; in fact, it was why Father Anderson talked to him much of the time as well.

"Oh, nothing in particular. I was just wondering how you liked it here, how you are being treated."

Pietro bit his lip. Was the priest upset with Father Anderson about something? He couldn't see what; he did get punished, but even he had to admit that it was fair every time.

"Good, I guess. No complaints." He forced himself to walk slowly over to the orange ball and pick it up.

"Do tell me, what is your name?" Enrico inquired in a pleasant tone, hoping the boy would open up a little more to him. The child might be worth looking into as well, assuming his eyes hadn't been deceiving him when noticing the child's speed.

"Pietro, Father," he said and then took a shot.

"I see that you like basketball. What else do you like?"

"Lots of stuff… books, video games, TV…"

"Anything in particular that you like most?"

Having been frustrated by Wanda's unsympathetic attitude towards his dominating passion, Pietro seized the opportunity for open conversation to discourse on his favorite subject.

"Yeah! I love vampire stuff. Castlevania, novels, Vampire Hunter D, all that kinda stuff!" He grinned. "My sister says it isn't real, and that I'm being stupid, but I think there really are vampires. Father Anderson said so."

"Did he now?" The tone Enrico said this last comment in made Pietro quail. Had he said something wrong? Would he get into trouble for it? Would Father Anderson?

"Well… I kinda wasn't supposed to hear that part, I don't think," he said quietly. "And I was up late. I mean, maybe I misheard or misunderstood. That's what Wanda tells me. So there probably aren't vampires. I mean, Father Anderson doesn't lie so I'm probably mistaken." He didn't really think he was, but this priest didn't seem like the sort one wanted to have as an enemy.

"And what do you think of vampires?" His voice returned to the mildly inquisitive, inviting tone it had before.

"It'd be totally sweet to going around being a vampire hunter, stabbing them in the chest, ripping their throats out, things like that," Pietro answered with a grin. "Not like they wouldn't deserve it. And it'd be pretty badass to get to take them out with big guns and stuff Get to see the demons splatter."

For a moment, Enrico stood breathless. There had been a flash in the boy's eyes that he hadn't even seen in Anderson's until he'd hunted for sometime. Something lurked behind that childlike façade, something that reveled in destruction and rejoiced in devastation. Depending on how deep those feelings truly ran, he might make a very good servant indeed.

First, however, there was more than Enrico needed to know. Much more.

"I apologize," he said suddenly. "I have been remiss in failing to return your courtesy by telling you my name. I am Father Enrico Maxwell." He made a gesture. "I think I should like to get to know you, Pietro. You seem like a very enthusiastic young boy. Care to take a walk with me?"

Even if he didn't care to, Pietro would not have refused. So he left the basketball and began to stroll with the priest.

"Tell me child, what do you feel about your faith?"

Pietro was slightly surprised and taken aback. The answer to him was obvious.

"I love God and his Church, Father. I know maybe it doesn't always seem like it, but I try to follow the Commandments, I really do. It sometimes seems like I can't help breaking them. But I try. And I go to Mass and everything."

Enrico nodded; all was good thus far. Faithful yet willing to sin.

"And your desire to destroy something as possibly fictional as vampires – where does that come from?"

The phrase 'possibly fictional' puzzled him, but he didn't protest it.

"Stuff like that, like what they are, it's against all we stand for, it's vile and disgusting." He smiled. "Almost as bad as heathens," he said with a laugh. "But nowadays we're supposed to make nice. I think it's stupid, but whatever. Sometimes I wish it was like in old times. Crusading and stuff. It'd be kinda cool."

It was a struggle for Enrico to keep from laughing himself. He only had to ask the boy one final question, one more piece of information that he needed to know to be positive of the boy's potential.

"Pietro," he said then paused before continuing. "What do you think of Judas Iscariot?"

The boy stopped in his tracks and bit his lip. He'd gotten in trouble with some of the nuns at his school before over this.

"Well…"

"Say whatever you feel in your heart," Enrico urged. "And remember that it is a lie to sin."

"I think he… well… you know. Somebody had to do it, didn't they?" He said almost defensively. "I mean, somebody had to be the bad guy. The traitor. And in the end, it all turned out good, didn't it? I mean, I know he went to Hell and all. But by going there, he helped a lot of other people out. He made things the way they were supposed to be by doing it. It was like… like…" he fumbled for words. "Like he had to be bad to do what was right. And he got punished, yeah, but he did the dirty work that nobody else would do. It damned him; but it saved us, created our faith.

He did the right thing, I think." He scuffed the dirt with his foot. "Some of the sisters don't think so, though. I got in trouble at school for saying that. Father Anderson didn't say anything when they told him, didn't even punish me, but I got yelled at by the nuns. Well, for that and for causes a small fire on the bulletin board but that wasn't really, really my fault. Are you going to punish me?" He abruptly shut up, his speech having accelerated as he grew increasingly nervous.

Placing a hand on the boy's shoulders, Enrico smiled.

"No, I will not. Pietro – I think you and I ought to have more conversations like these. You're very insightful for a boy your age."

And absolutely perfect for Section XIII, he thought to himself.

"Ok," Pietro agreed as they walked back.

"Although – not that I want you to be dishonest – but I think it would be best if you didn't mention this conversation to Father Anderson. I don't interact with many of the orphans you see, so I think this should be our little secret. Just so nobody gets the wrong idea. Agreed?"

Pietro nodded.

"Sure! Our secret," he said. "Just between us."

000

She hadn't meant to, but Wanda started to cry, thinking about all the ways that Father Anderson might react if she explained. What if he threw them out? Where would they go? Who would want a couple of troublemakers?

"Strange like… Like I keep making stuff break!" She sniffed and took a breath to calm herself down. "Pietro keeps moving faster and faster, getting stuff done and running quicker than he should. But when I get upset or annoyed or mad, stuff breaks. I broke the TV in our room," she admitted, "And there's been other stuff too. Glasses shattering, people slipping…

"I don't mean for it to happen – it just does!" She wailed.

Without saying a word, Father Anderson embraced her and patted her hair.

"Shhhhh. Shhhhh. 'Tis noothin' tae meh, lass. Ahn 'tis noothin' tae beh ashamed oov. Yer jes' like Kurt," he said with a smiled. "Like Kurt and like me. Yeh've goot a gift from God; his blessin's are uhpoon yeh."

"Really?"

"Ye hae meh solemn word."

She wiped her eyes.

"Boot…" He began.

"Yes?" She asked with trepidation.

"Yeh cannae tell anyboodie aboot this, lass. Ahn the same fahr yer broother."

"I won't, Father Anderson," she whispered. "No telling anybody, and I'll try not to do anything in front of people either. Our secret."

"Aye. Oohr secret."

The girl dashed back to her room, considerably comforted. Anderson, however, was more agitated than ever. Maxwell already knew about Kurt; he didn't know how he was going to conceal two more from him and his influence. Bad enough that Kurt would probably enlist; he didn't want to see the twins condemn themselves to Hell as well.

000

Yeah, as for the Kurt bits... next chapter. Promise. I just got a lot of inspiration for this one and figured I'd wrap up some of those loose ends and set a few other wheels into motion first.

But next chapter shall be a Kurt-centric one for sure :)