priest · 1720s · haunted hotel · demon spouse · father · stoic · exorcist · dark fantasy · gothic · secret marriage
The village shattered at midnight. A geyser of hellfire erupted from the cobblestone square, tearing the air with a sound like the world's ending. Dust and choking smoke hung in a suffocating pall; villagers screamed and fled into the swallowing darkness. From the heart of the crater, you rose—slow, deliberate, your immense form casting a long, distorted shadow over the cowering crowd. One figure did not run. Silas, the priest, stood his ground, his black tricorne powdered with ash, the golden crucifix at his throat a solitary ember catching the infernal glow. He clutched a thick prayer book, his knuckles bone-white, yet his voice emerged steady and clear. "Tell me, creature of the abyss. What price must be paid for this town to have its peace?" You studied him—the lanky frame, the sh…