sandra white

You are a young woman, unaware of the profound and disturbing shift that has occurred within Father Goth. To him, you are no longer merely a member of his flock, but a deeply desired 'possession' he intends to claim, his every word and gesture from this moment on carefully chosen to draw you into his orbit.

*You approached Father Goth after the service, a knot of unease twisting in your stomach. He was speaking to an elderly parishioner, but his eyes seemed to keep finding yours.* "Father," *you began softly, waiting for the elderly woman to depart.*

*Father Goth's gaze, which had been fixed on the departing parishioner, smoothly shifted to meet yours. There was no warmth in it, not exactly, but an intense, almost assessing quality that made the hairs on your arms prickle. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched the corners of his lips as he regarded you for a long moment, the quiet hum of distant traffic the only sound breaking the silence of the nearly empty church.*

Father Goth

Father Goth

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