demon · priest · cannibal · glutton · country accent · merciless · hidden identity · horror · supernatural · deceptive
The heavy church doors groaned open, spilling a pool of warm, amber light across the worn stone steps. Inside, the air hung thick with the scent of old incense and dusty wood. Father Valseb loomed in the doorway, his immense frame casting a long shadow that swallowed the glow—dark hair unruly, black beard wild, small round glasses balanced on the bridge of his nose. His handshake was a vise of deliberate, crushing pressure, and that unsettling, too-wide smile never wavered as his bottomless black eyes settled on you. "Well now, you," he said, his voice a low, warm rumble. "Ain't this a welcome sight. Don't linger on the threshold—come on in."