Chapter 1:The new Shepherd
Chapter One: The New Shepherd
"The old cathedral had buried six priests before it welcomed its seventh."
---
The rain had not stopped for three days.
It poured relentlessly over the towering stone cathedral, washing years of dust from its weathered walls. Thunder rolled across the dark sky, shaking the stained-glass windows that had long since lost their color.
Father Lucian Moreau stepped out of the black sedan, tightening his grip on the leather strap of his bag.
His eyes slowly lifted to the building before him.
Saint Augustine Cathedral.
Its cracked stone walls were wrapped in thick ivy, while grotesque gargoyles stared down from every corner of the roof. Time had aged the church, yet it stood proudly—as though it refused to fall.
Or perhaps...
It wouldn't allow itself to.
Lucian adjusted the rosary wrapped around his hand.
"Just another church," he murmured to himself.
He climbed the stone steps.
Before he could knock, the massive oak doors creaked open.
An elderly nun stood in the doorway.
She wore a faded black habit, and deep wrinkles framed her tired eyes.
"You must be Father Lucian," she said softly.
Lucian smiled politely.
"Yes, Sister. It's a pleasure to meet you."
The nun studied him for a moment before speaking again.
"You are... younger than I expected."
Lucian chuckled.
"I hear that quite often."
"No..."
Her voice became strangely quiet.
"You are younger than the others."
Lucian frowned.
"The others?"
The nun lowered her eyes.
"The priests before you."
Silence settled between them.
After a few moments, she stepped aside.
"Please... come in."
---
The moment Lucian crossed the threshold, an uneasy feeling settled in his chest.
The cathedral was magnificent.
Towering pillars reached toward a ceiling swallowed by darkness. Hundreds of candles burned throughout the sanctuary, yet somehow the room still felt dim.
The air was cold.
Not winter cold.
Empty cold.
Lucian looked around.
Rows of wooden pews stood untouched beneath layers of dust.
The altar was immaculate, yet no warmth surrounded it.
The entire church felt...
Abandoned.
"You'll be staying in the priest's quarters," the nun explained as they walked down the hallway.
"Has no one lived there since the last priest?"
"No."
"How long ago was that?"
The nun hesitated.
"...Three years."
Lucian nodded.
"So the room has been empty ever since?"
"Yes."
Neither of them spoke again.
---
The room was simple.
A neatly made bed.
A wooden desk.
A bookshelf.
A crucifix hanging above the doorway.
And beside the window...
An enormous antique mirror.
Its frame was carved from dark wood, decorated with twisting vines and angels whose faces had almost completely faded with age.
Lucian stopped walking.
"I wasn't told there would be a mirror."
The nun glanced toward it.
"It has always been there."
"I'd rather have it removed."
For the first time...
The nun looked uncomfortable.
"We've tried."
Lucian raised an eyebrow.
"Tried?"
She nodded.
"It always returns."
Lucian stared at her.
After a long silence, the nun gave a nervous laugh.
"I'm sorry."
"I suppose that sounds ridiculous."
He smiled reassuringly.
"Old churches are full of stories."
She forced a smile.
"Yes..."
"They are."
Without another word, she left.
The wooden door clicked shut behind her.
---
Lucian unpacked quietly.
He placed his Bible on the desk.
His notebook beside it.
A bottle of holy water followed.
Finally...
His rosary.
The room became silent once again.
He slowly walked toward the mirror.
His reflection stared back.
Dark hair.
Sharp features.
Tired eyes hidden beneath sleepless nights.
He adjusted his white collar.
Everything seemed normal.
He exhaled softly.
"I've been listening to ghost stories all day."
He turned away.
Then stopped.
A strange feeling crawled across the back of his neck.
It felt...
Like someone was standing behind him.
He looked back.
Nothing.
Only his own reflection.
Lucian laughed quietly.
"You're imagining things."
---
Hours passed.
The storm grew worse.
Rain hammered against the cathedral windows while thunder echoed through the halls.
Lucian lay awake in bed, unable to sleep.
Then...
Dong...
A church bell echoed through the building.
Lucian opened his eyes.
He reached for the small clock beside his bed.
3:33 a.m.
Another bell rang.
Dong...
This one sounded closer.
He sat upright.
"Someone's awake?"
He opened his bedroom door.
The hallway was empty.
Only candlelight flickered along the stone walls.
"Hello?" Lucian called.
No answer.
Then...
A woman's voice drifted through the darkness.
"Father..."
Lucian froze.
His heartbeat quickened.
"Who's there?" he asked firmly.
Silence.
He slowly followed the sound.
At the end of the hallway stood another antique mirror.
Its dark frame was even older than the one inside his room.
Lucian stepped closer.
His reflection appeared.
Nothing else.
He sighed.
"I'm exhausted."
Then—
Another figure appeared behind him.
A young woman.
Long, straight black hair fell over a pale white dress.
Her head tilted slightly to one side.
She smiled.
Not kindly.
Not cruelly.
As though she already knew something he didn't.
Lucian spun around.
The hallway was empty.
His breathing became uneven.
Slowly...
He looked back at the mirror.
She was gone.
Only his reflection remained.
He stood there for what felt like an eternity.
Finally, he whispered,
"...It was just fatigue."
A faint whisper floated through the hallway.
So quiet it was almost impossible to hear.
"Not yet, Father."
Lucian's eyes widened.
This time...
The voice hadn't come from the mirror.
It had come from behind him.
End.......
