Prologue
The echoing click of the lock broke the quiet serenity of the room, ricocheting violently down the hall and across the vaulted ceilings. The large wooden door swung open after it, gracefully gliding against the marble floor. Moonlight filtered down through the intricate stained glass windows, throwing eerily dark and distorted figures onto the eastern wall. The lights were off. The pews were empty. A few burned-down candles flickered helplessly in the sanctuary.
Perfect.
A lone, dark figure strode silently between the polished wooden benches, carrying a bundle wrapped in white. The thin fabric billowed out around him like gossamer wings on the breeze. He paused at the steps leading up to the sanctuary, bowed his head to pray, then stepped up to the glistening marble altar and lay her down upon it. The meager candlelight reflected off of the gold flecks in the stone and through her bright red hair. Bowed, long fingers passed through the autumn curls and down the side of her face. She wasn’t perfect, but she was close. And still so beautiful.
The figure circled the altar, lighting a single ivory pillar and placing it at the top of the sanctuary stairs. He descended the steps lightly, the soles of his shoes barely making a sound on the marble floor. He paused at the second pew, his arm outstretched and his fingers resting on the polished wood.
“Per me si va ne l’etterno dolore. Per me si va la perduta gente. E io etterno duro. Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’entrate.”
Through me you go to everlasting pain. Through me you go to pass among lost souls. And I endure eternally. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.
The words faded off into the night air. He retreated into the dark, his long, nimble fingers caressing the edge of each pew as he went. The door closed silently behind him. The oppressive silence of the night descended from its hiding place in the corners of the ceiling.
He’d never been there at all.
