The wind swept in off the coast, whipping the leaves from the trees and plastering them against Becca's legs as she made her way home. Normally she would have appreciated the wild beauty of this but tonight she was in far too much of a hurry to get home. She had been in this town for close to two months now and still felt no more welcome than a cat burglar. The meeting had gone badly, the others had made no attempt to hide their contempt for her They made it clear that she was only a temporary problem and that, once the relevant calls had been made to the relevant people they would be free from her troublesome suggestions and unreasonable desire for change.
It wasn't only the matter of her gender she understood, it was also the question of age. At 35 she was nearly half the age of many of the people there. It had just been one night she told herself, and Rome was indeed not built in a day. The cliché however did nothing to quell the fire of indignation burning through her. Cassie would have known what to say, she had no doubt of that. Cassie would have sent them all home with their ears burning, their egos crushed and their hearts full of joy that such a woman had been sent to them. Cassie, however would sooner crawl over broken glass than attend such a meeting. In spite of this Becca was looking forward to seeing her old friend and recent roommate in order to pour out her bile over some food and a couple of glasses of red.
Becca and Cassie had been friends since University. Although their paths had divulged quite considerably they had remained close despite their differences. Both of them questioned the decisions made by the other throughout their life but both women respected the others right to go their own way. When Cassie had turned up on Becca's door unannounced two weeks before, Becca had asked no questions, had put her friend up in the spare bedroom and opened a bottle of wine.
Her house was picturesquely situated on the brow of a hill looking over the town and out to sea. Rather unfortunately it was also situated close to the town graveyard, a fact which although added a certain amount of atmosphere also creeped the hell out of her.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally kicked the door shut behind her, closing off the sound of the gale blowing outside. It had also started to rain during the last few yards, which just added the final touch to the evening. She looked at herself in the hallway mirror as she removed her scarf and coat. Her hair was sensibly tied back, the only think which rescued her from looking a mess. She took a moment to study herself in the mirror. She had always (and despite Cassie's assertions to the contrary) felt that her face was too thin, the lines too drawn. The hair tied back gave her the appearance of a particularly stern headmistress, not exactly the image she had imagined for herself when she was a teenager. She untied her hair and let it fall. It did little to improve the image. Her hair was fairly dark and without style. She pushed the hair back behind her ears. At full length it stopped at the nape of her neck.
Not that it made a difference of course. All the men in the area never saw past the small oblong of white at her throat. Cassie had said that some men would find the existence of a dog-collar erotic, they were after all, all the rage in fetish clubs. Becca had reminded her that they were entirely different types of collar. Hers only reminded people that she was the newly selected vicar for the parish. A woman of the cloth. A woman of God. Untouchable.
Smiling ruefully she moved into her study, situated in the front of the house. Here she removed her cassock, hanging it up carefully before changing into the more comfortable black shirt and jeans. For some reason she still felt slightly uncomfortable seeing her friend in the full vicar garb. She did not however remove the crucifix. It hung around her neck on a long silver chain. The crucifix itself was also made of silver, a quite chunky piece of work with a weight to match. It had been a present to her from her Mother when Becca had taken the decision to enter The Church. She tucked it inside her black shirt before fetching the bottle of wine from the mantelpiece and going upstairs looking for Cassie.
She meant to call out Cassie's name when she reached the top of the landing. When she reached it however her voice stilled in her throat. The landing was freezing. She could see her breath in front of her and a draft blew through the house. It was clear which room it was coming from and Becca felt a momentary surge of anger at her friend's carelessness. Muttering under her breath she marched up to her friend's door and, without knocking walked in.
She did not immediately take in the whole scene in front of her. The room was dim, the electric lights were switched off. The only illumination came from a number of candles dotted around the room, dancing wildly within their glass holders. The large windows to the room had, as she had expected been left wide open and the cold sea air blew through the room causing the curtains to bulge and flap like wings. Cassie, she then saw, was lying half on the bed, she was naked, she was bleeding and she was not alone. Her head and upper body was hanging over the side of the bed and there was what appeared to be numerous wounds on her breasts and hips. Her head was thrown back, her eyes open, her mouth moving silently. Next to her, sitting on the floor was the naked figure of a man. He was curled up around Cassie, one hand lost in the blonde tangle of Cassie's hair, pulling her head back. He appeared to be kissing Cassie passionately on the throat.
Although Becca felt fear her first impulse was to go to the aid of her friend and she took a step further into the room. At this point the man seemed to notice the existence of an intruder for the first time and raised his head from Cassie's neck. This was the moment where all of Becca's world turned inside out. There was blood smeared on the man's mouth and, as he grinned Becca stared horrified as she saw his teeth, extremely sharp and totally inhuman. This impression was only heightened by the mans eyes, shining silver in the flickering light. The eyes of a monster.
'Aaahh..' He spoke for the first time, his voice deep, with a strange accent Becca couldn't place. 'so you must be the Vicar. I have heard rather a lot about you.'
Self-preservation finally entered Becca's head and she took a step back, turning for the door.
Which slammed shut. She heard a dull click, that of the lock slipping into place. She ran to the door, furiously turning the handle
'What's your hurry?' His voice soft and low. She kept her back turned to him, putting all her effort into keeping control. 'You really should stay a little while.'
She mouthed a quick prayer before turning to face him. She fought hard with herself, actually succeeding to appear calm. Cassie was now lying full on the bed, her face turned away. Cassie could see even in the dim light that her breasts moved. Thank God, she thought, she's alive.
'And perhaps she will remain so.' came the voice, mocking and cruel. He was on his feet now and Becca was able to get her first good look at him. He was tall, just over six feet and extremely thin. In fact there did not seem to be an ounce of fat anywhere on his muscular body. His face was almost wolf-like in appearance, this resemblance heightened by his hair, white and long, reaching almost to his shoulders. He was completely naked and, she could see, aroused. His cock long, thick and hard. But it was his eyes that held her as he made his way slowly towards her; although her mind was screaming at her to run she held her ground.
He stopped just in front of her, gazing down at her upturned face. She finally found her voice:
'Please leave.' Her voice wobbled and she cursed her own weakness. She realised too much was at stake. 'The police are coming, if you leave now…'
His hand reached out, grasping her by the throat, forcing her back against the door. The sudden violence terrified her, breaking through the spell he had cast. She struggled against him, trying with both hands to prise his hand away. His flesh, she realised, was ice cold.
'Don't lie, I do believe that's in the commandments, but I would especially advise you not to lie to me.' His voice was became fierce as anger contorted his features making him appear even more animalistic. 'And if you don't stop struggling I will break your neck here and now.' To reinforce the point his hand tightened around her neck. She stopped struggling immediately, realising the futility. 'That's better', he whispered and then, leaning forward kissed her hard on the mouth.
The naked violence of the action took Becca's breath away. She tried to turn her head but he effortlessly held her firm. It had been years since a man had last kissed her and for a moment she was overcome with a variety of emotions clouding her mind. His mouth was hard, cold and brutal against hers. It was clear that she was in his power and that knowledge made her stomach turn to ice water. However, there was a raw beastlike sexuality to him which threatened to awake feelings long since buried. She resolutely kept her lips shut, shutting her eyes until he pulled back.
'Oh I am going to enjoy this.' He said, as with his free hand he began unbuttoning Becca's shirt from the top. He had only gone two buttons down when he started, a change came over his face and, for a moment Becca had the unnerving impression that he aged, became weaker. This soon passed, and before she could be sure of what she had seen the man quickly recovered. His hand reached into her shirt and pulled out the crucifix.
This find seemed to infuriate him and Becca seemed to sense some frustration although he clearly took great pains to keep his feelings hidden.
