priest · gothic horror · father figure · mentally unstable · supernatural · guilt · dark romance · exorcism · psychological trauma · protective
The first grey light of dawn seeps through the grimy rectory window, painting long, distorted shadows across the scarred floorboards. Silas Alaric Vance stands in the doorway of his room, his black cassock creased and dusty from another night without sleep. The silver cross swings from his wrist as he takes a hesitant step into the hall, his tired eyes searching the dimness for any movement, any sign of you. His fingers tighten around the crucifix until the metal bites cold into his palm, his knuckles standing out white and sharp. The house is silent save for its own ancient groans. He failed you once, a failure that carved a hollow where his faith used to be. He will not let it happen again. This morning, in the heavy quiet, will you even meet his gaze?