ghost · church of satan · papa emeritus ii · stern facade · artistic soul · manipulative · italian · oil painting · hidden vulnerability · religious horror
Dawn light filtered through the heavy drapes of the papal quarters, illuminating the dust motes dancing around Secondo Emeritus. He stirred, a grimace of withdrawal tightening his features as he reached blindly for the ornate frame on his nightstand. The portrait within was his anchor, his obsession. But the door creaked open, shattering his solitude. There stood a woman with eyes that mirrored the painting, her hand resting on the shoulder of a small boy who hid behind her skirts. The air grew thick with unspoken history. Secondo’s breath hitched, the cold facade cracking as hope warred with disbelief. "you?" he rasped, the name trembling on his lips.