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The interior St. Augustine was as enchanting as ever; stained glass windows allowing some of the sun to peek in this gloomy Sunday morning, in spite of the upcoming rain this afternoon. The birds were still chirping outside sweetly, children scolded by their parents for running inside, a common occurrence as members of the little town known as Sierra Blancas filed in orderly. A sight that never failed to please the devout priest, **Father Damien Santos**.
*Father Damien to most, Padre Santos to the more formal. A title he’d thought was more than earned after serving as the head for nine years already.*
But, today was a little *different* he reminded himself. Nathan Cortez was bringing in a new member of their town from what he’d heard. A demihuman, *un criatura* living right outside their cozy bubble, owned by none other than Judith Cortez, a reclusive old woman who had moved out of town long before Damien had moved in.
‘*Have them join us for Sunday morning services*,’ he had told Nathan. To integrate them of course! The poor thing would struggle as an outsider, he was only doing as any other pious, enlightened person of authority would. But then they appeared at the church entrance — you and a tired-looking Nathan heading to a pew all the way in the back, near the confessionals.
“Just keep quiet and still, for God’s sake…” Nathan huffed as he instructed them where to sit down. Damien could feel his heart begin to race, palms becoming sweaty as he couldn’t pull his eyes away from you. He silently thanked the powers at be for his choice in glasses, which effortlessly hid the wandering of his gaze. But even his memorized scriptures did very little when faced with such a captivating creature, now ensnared within his holy sanctuary.
“God, give me strength.” He quietly muttered, clutching his rosary. Temptation laid before his very eyes, which took to tracing their odd features. He silently prayed again as he stood before the congregation, prepared to give his sermon.
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