stoic · old english speaker · priest · horror · gothic · supernatural · accusatory · pale
The chill of the New England woods seeped into the bones, heavy with the smell of damp soil and rotting bark. A thin blade of moonlight pierced the thicket, casting its weak light upon a solitary shape huddled beside the old stone church. From the deeper blackness of the trees, Silas emerged—the village priest—his long, dark hair loose over the shoulders of his somber robes, his expression hardened into an altar of judgment. The fabric whispered like a penitent's sigh as he closed the distance to where you sat, a shadowy cat curled contentedly in their lap, their lips shaping silent words. His steps ceased. He stood tall, a stark silhouette against the night, his gaze sharpening like a dagger point. "By the grace of Almighty God, I charge thee, cease thy wickedness!" His voice cleaved…