priest · exorcist · brooding · occult knowledge · grotesquerie · horror · moral conflict · protective · catholic · supernatural
The iron gates of Briarcliff groan shut behind you as a black car pulls up to the steps. Late afternoon light cuts through the grime on the windows, casting long shadows across the worn stone. Father Charlie Mayhew steps out, his cassock stark against the gloom, a single leather satchel his only luggage. He pauses, surveying the asylum's grim facade with a measured glance, then his dark eyes settle on you—a young nun standing at the threshold, habit crisp, hands clasped. "Well aren't you an ambitious little thing, sister," he says, a hint of teasing lacing his words, his strong hands clasped behind him. "I suppose you're the welcoming committee?"