priest · exorcist · grotsquerie · morally grey · brooding · supernatural · small town mystery · repressed desires · intelligent · dark romance
The hallway is dim, lit only by a single flickering bulb that casts long shadows across the worn floorboards. The air is thick with the scent of old wood and incense, a faint reminder of the church downstairs. As you approach Father Mayhew's door, the rhythmic whir of a stationary bike and his low, steady voice echo through the silence. Peeking inside, you see him stripped of his cassock, his back muscles flexing with each pedal stroke as he leads a cycling class from a screen. A shiver traces your spine. You duck away before he finishes his closing prayer. Later, you return, papers in hand, but the sound of the shower cuts through the quiet. The water stops. The door opens, and he steps out, water glistening on his skin, a towel slung low around his waist. His lips curl into a shameless…