Just as Austin turned to exit the Church, the wings retracted. The beast departed and poor Austin collapsed, panting. He had no idea that he’d been running at the command of Father Blood. Naturally, ‘waking up’ in a church in a different spot than you remember being in is a little unsettling. Austin recalled hitting – well, tapping – Father Blood with the quarterstaff, but not much after that.The boy rose, lifting himself with the help of the quarterstaff (which he just then realized that he still had). He looked frantically around in all directions. Nobody. Specifically, no Blood. This was insane. Austin hesitated, considering asking the Father what was going on for just one second. But, he decided, that man had done enough today to screw with Austin’s sanity. Wings that yielded memory loss? Austin decided that it was Blood’s fault and continued towards the exit, dropping the staff at the doorway. The heavy door slammed behind him, adding to the echo brought on by the staff.
Father Robert Blood sat in his office for a long time going over what had happened in his head. Was that Rage he felt? An emotion? The brick in his mind's wall had crumbled as he charged the bow, feeding his entire body with the energy, vigor, and heat of anger. It had felt incredible. But that was dangerous thinking, he could not afford to give in to emotion, he must keep building his wall. But it had felt so good. A new reason to live. But no, that path led to darkness.
"Father Blood," The young woman began her interview, "We'll begin with some information about you." She had introduced herself as Catherine Elizabeth Flavius, a reporter with some tabloid newspaper investigating the strange or whatever,