Chapter Text
Tick, tick, tick.
That clock was awfully loud.
“...excuse me, sir? Are you listening to me?”
You snapped out of your dissociation, “Sorry?”
“I said your insurance no longer covers your treatment.”
Treatment? Oh. Well, shit.
Here’s the thing: you’re broke. Dead broke. Like, living-in-your-car broke. It wasn’t your fault, it was just a series of unfortunate events. You got kicked out at 19, so already, bad start. You couldn’t find a job for about a month, and the girl you were staying with kicked you out too because you couldn’t pay your half of the rent. Extended family reached out and decided to help you out for a while, allowing you to find a job and an apartment. Well, whoop-dee-doo, you were fired after about a year for “negligence”, though you’re not really sure what that's supposed to mean. Coincidentally, that also happened to be around the time you started physically transitioning. So sure, “negligence”.
Tick, tick, tick.
“What- um, am I suppos’d to do now?”
The lady you were speaking with gave you that figureitoutyourself look but by some miracle she decided to have pity on your poor, brokie soul.
“Well, you can ask family-” Nope. “-or you can pay out of pocket.” Fuck.
Your thoughts must’ve crept their way onto your face because one of her thin eyebrows lifts apathetically. You sink slightly into your chair. You were crumbling in front of this tired, and frankly annoyed employee of where-ever-the-fuck you go to pay for your testosterone. Trembling hands release the iron-tight grip they had on the armrests and cross over your chest defensively. You sit up. And, what comes tumbling out of your stupid mouth next, is rude, and. Well. Stupid.
“Fuck you.”
Tick, tick, tick.
Now both of her thin, stupid eyebrows go flying up towards her hairline.
“It’s not even my fault! You can blame this administration.” The slight drawl she has on that second sentence just pisses you off even more. She doesn’t even give a shit. But, she’s right. It isn’t her fault, but you’re angry, so. Whatever. Whatever, whatever, whateverwhateverwhateverwhatever.
You lean over without a word, an extremely annoyed, pinched up look on your face. You grab your bag and speed-walk out the door, slamming it shut. Suddenly you’re overwhelmed with all your failures at once, and you get that burning sensation on your nose. Shit. You continue down the hallway and out towards the front office. You don’t want to embarrass yourself; this'll be the last time they see you. Maybe. Definitely. Probably. Tears bead at your waterline and threaten to fall. Thankfully, they only start to drip down your face once you’ve left the building and gotten into your car.
Now you’re really crying. Like, baby-sobbing into the wheel. Your wails fill your shitty metal box to the brim, unaware of the few bystanders. You don’t care though. You just lost the only thing keeping you alive. You feel like you’re sinking. Into the cheap cushions that make up your carseat. Face-first into the steering wheel, covered in tears and drool. You gasp empty breaths and suddenly a pit has opened in your stomach and is consuming your intestines, your kidney, your lungs, your heart, and oh, it’s reached your throat, and you gasp again, but no air can reach your lungs because they’re gone, and you start to dry heave. You can’t hear anything besides the jackhammering of your heart. You whine like a dying dog over and over again. Until finally, the pit seems to spit out all the guts it had taken from you.
And then you throw up all over your car.
Great.
You stare at the brown-yellow mess covering your wheel and dashboard and you start to cry again. Lighter tears and simple sniffles this time, thank god. With a wet sigh, you reach over the center console and open the front compartment to grab napkins you got from your last venture to Wendy’s. You clean what you can through the dizzy haze clouding your mind.
Your insurance no longer covers your treatment.
The sudden urge to vomit again rises up behind your teeth, but you swallow it back down. You should probably head to a car wash. Should. Shoulda-coulda-woulda. Another wet sigh escapes your lips, and you look up. But something captures your attention.
The Billboard.
The Billboard, with a man in a very sparkly suit-jacket and black and white face paint.
The Billboard, reading, “I’ll get you everything you want” in big, bold, enticing letters.
And, an address under it. Whatever it was advertising, it was pulling you in. Weirdly. You weren’t completely stupid, you knew not to just pull up to a place you saw on a vague billboard. But you never said you were a genius either.
The thought of going rolls around in your head. Go, and be murdered. Not bad. Or, go, and get everything you want. Could this creepo help you out with your car payments? Your HRT? A sniffle rings out in your car and you realize you’re crying yet again. Not really because of the recent events, but because of your idiocy. The fact that you’re even considering this makes you giggle.
Oh, hell. Why not? Your 20’s-30’s-40’s are for being stupid, right?
With one last wobbly breath, you punch in the address into your GPS.
————————
It doesn’t take too long to get there, though the way to the dude's place is sketchy. Horror movie type sketchy. You were led onto a dirt path that took you deep into the woods a few miles outside of town. The woods were thick and dense, making it hard to see what was going to be around the next corner. You turn, and a building seems to rise up out of nowhere. You slam hard on the breaks. The sudden stop jerks you forward and you bang your head on the wheel.
“Goddamn!”
A feeling of warmth bursts out on your forehead and you wince, touching it. The fingers come away red and wet and a sigh pushes its way out of you. After reaching over and taking out some more napkins from your front compartment to dab at the fresh wound, you sit for a moment. No thoughts at all really, just pure awe at the building in front of you.
It was a large church made from molding black bricks, creeping up towards the darkening sky. Instead of regular crosses, the tip off the roof adorned an upside down crucifix with an incomplete circle around the middle of it. Its windows shimmered in the sunset, purples and blues winking at you, almost mockingly. The doors were large, taking up more than half the front of the church. The small windows on either side of it showed no signs of life inside from what you could tell.
You shuffle out of your car, orange yellow and brown autumn leaves crackling under you. A slight breeze that smells of winter hits you, and suddenly you want nothing more than to go into the parish in front of you.
As you walk up the few steps leading into the house of prayer, you swear you can hear the faint sound of an organ.
Opening the door, the smell of incense hits you like a ton of bricks, and suddenly you’re a kid again, uncomfortably stepping between the aisles to where your parents are after confession. The memory makes you stop for a second that lasts forever; forever that scared child begging God for forgiveness for your wishes to be born differently or to not have been born at all.
You shiver, forcing yourself to walk into the church. The tendrils of excessive incense wind through the pews and wrap themselves around your ankles, only to be ripped away once you take another step forward. This process repeats until you’ve made your way to the front of the church. Only then do you realize that there’s nobody playing the church’s organ.
Okay. Weird.
“Hello?” Echoes through the parish.
“Hellooooo?”
The church isn’t normal, you note. The candles are black instead of white, and everything seems a bit more.. gothic, then you’re used to seeing in a typical Catholic or Christian parish. The stained glass combined with the setting sun and swaying trees causes its colors to dance around you on the floor and through the incense.
You try again, warily, “Hello?”
A nun comes up beside you, slithering out of the smoke.
“Hello. Do you need help?”
“Oh, uh, hey. I saw the billboard that you guys, I think you guys- I dunno, I just followed the address- put up. I thought it was.. interesting.” Shuffling from one foot to another, you fiddled with your necklace. The nun was wearing all black robes, and wore the same kind of crucifix you had seen on the outside of the chapel. A black silky veil falls down the back of her head and covers the top and front part, causing her to almost blend in with her surroundings. The sun had almost completely set, and the only thing keeping it from being pitch black was the light coming from the ebony candles. She was shorter than you by a few inches, with big brown eyes and freckles. She was cute.
Oh,” she blinked, “The Billboard.”
“Yeah, The Billboard.”
“Hm. Then you’ll be wanting to see him?” She had an upward tilt to her voice, like she was excited to tell me a secret she knew she shouldn’t be spreading around.
You thought for a moment. This was definitely some cult shit.
“..Yeah.”
“Follow me,” she beckoned gently with her hand.
She led you out of the main room and out into a wide hallway, decorated with the same raven candles you saw littered around the organ and ambo. The smell of strong incense faded, replaced by a heavier, enticing musky scent you couldn’t describe. Burnt pine mixed with oils, something like that. The windows were the same blue and purple from the chapel area but the effect was different now. The colors were more wicked in the moonlight, flickering and changing in the moonlight.
Oh, it’s dark out.
A small voice in your head wondered about your car, but you quickly dismissed it. You were probably about to be sacrificed anyway.
A few sharp turns down wide and narrow hallways later, passing by rooms you could only catch glimpses of, the both of you ended up in front of a door. The name plate next to it read, Copia. It was a regular wooden door, nothing special to it. Nothing out of the ordinary in usual circumstances. But considering your surroundings, this was weird. Just.. some door? And the guy behind it, you’re guessing, is the dude from The Billboard? That freaky sparkly shimmery guy? Right. Okay.
The nun knocked thrice, lighting tapping on the wood as if trying to not damage it. You doubted whoever was in there even heard it.
To your surprise, after a moment a voice from inside called, “Come in!”
Definitely not the kind of voice you were expecting. It was masculine, slightly raspy, but cheerful. Almost cute. It had an accent too. Italian, maybe?
The nun twisted the knob and pushed the door open, revealing an office. Dimly lit by a warm yellow lamp and shadows cast by more flickering dark candles. It was honestly overkill at this point. Bite My Hip was playing quietly from a CD player sat neatly on the edge of a dark wooden desk, contrasted by the mess of papers and folders and letters surrounding it. And, sitting behind the desk, was Copia. He wasn’t nearly as intimidating as his name made him sound. The man was wearing a red jacket, covering a black crewneck t-shirt. You couldn’t see below his waist from here, but you bet he was wearing a pair of pants that matched his jacket. Then, his face. Mismatched eyes, one white, the other a nice shade of green. Black face paint surrounded those eyes, making them more prominent. His hair was slicked back, grey hairs sneaking up from his hairline.
He seemed slightly surprised at your appearance, and you realized you were still in the doorway, staring. Stupid.
“Sorry,” you stepped into the room and shut the door behind you.
“This one saw your Billboard, Papa,” The nun spoke up. Papa?
“Oh, wonderful!” He clapped his hands together, smiling, “what did you think?”
And suddenly everyone (count: two people) in the room was staring at you.
“Uh, I.. thought it was interesting?” You tried to smile back, but it faltered. You were just.. lost. Who was this guy, what was this church?
“‘Interesting?’ You wouldn’t be here if it was just ‘interesting’,” He chuckled. His eyebrows tilted upwards and his smile was warm. You thought you could get lost in his cute little crows feet.
The nun spoke up, “I’ll leave you two be,”
“Thank you, Sister,” Copia replied politely. He folded his gloved hands upon the table, crinkling the mess of papers on top of it. The nun bowed and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Silence.
“You can, eh, sit down, if you like,” He gestured lightly to the comfortable looking velvet seat in front of him, looking up at you. Cute.
Yeah this dude was definitely Italian. Sitting down with a slight creak, your eyes wandered about the room.
“So, um. I guess the reason as to why I’m here is.. honestly pretty pathetic,” you laughed, “I’m living in my car and, like, today I got told that my insurance won’t pay for my testosterone anymore which, totally fucking sucked. I’m at the bottom right now. Then, y’know, I saw your ad and I was like ‘yeah might as well give it a shot’ because what else have I got to lose, right?”
You got lost in your rambling and were unaware of the eyes boring into you.
“I just don’t really have much and hearing that today made me crack and.. I dunno I just- don’t.. have. Much,” you nervously giggled again. The creak of leather gloves and the whine of a chair leaning back snapped you out of your self deprecation.
“..I’m sorry to hear that. Truly.”
Not what you were expecting, but the surprise of it made you tear up anyway. God, today was rough. Your eyes dragged themselves up from where they were staring into the carpet on the floor and up towards the man in front of you. Frater Imperator.
“Mister, uh, Copia.. sir,”
“Please, just Copia.”
“Right, Copia. Your ad said you’d give me anything, right? Everything I want? Literally just help me out with car payments. Maybe help me find an apartment.”
“That’s.. that’s it?” His eyes were wide, blinking rapidly.
“Or, I mean, I dunno, just find me a place to stay that isn’t a homeless shelter or my car,” you mumbled, gesturing your hands downwards stiffly.
“We can certainly arrange that. We have rooms here! Well, most of them are being occupied by brothers and sisters of sin, but I’m sure we have at least one available.”
“Okay- I’m sorry, are you guys satanists or something?”
“Does that bother you?”
You sputter, “No! Not at all, really, I was just wondering. I come from a Catholic family so I’m just not really used to a church like this, ha.”
“Oh, dolce ragazzo,” whatever that meant, but it sounded nice rolling off his tongue, “no need to worry. Though, eh, if you stay here.. you might want to consider switching over. The ghouls might smell it on you,” he said cheekily.
“The what?”
He smiled. “Ah, nevermind. Let us see if we can find you a room, yes?”
Okay now you were really curious as to what went on here. You’d have to do some investigating once you’ve gotten settled in. (Note: you only have a shoulder bag that contains your wallet, your phone, and your keys.)
“Okay.”
He stood up, the chair rocking behind him from the action, and extended his arm. He was wearing matching pants! Your hand found his, and he helped you up. He led you out of the room and back out into the small, cramped hallway. Twists and turns make up this parish, and you can’t help but wonder if this place was a maze.
The both of you walked by close off rooms and smaller chapels until you reached a large hallway with doors mirroring each other going down the seemingly endless corridor. He brought you to the end of it and knocked on one of the doors. He twisted the knob and peaked inside.
“Ah, empty. This one is for you. I’ll fetch you some bedding and clothes. Is this okay?”
“Go ahead, man.” He giggled at the title, waltzing back down the hallway muttering “man” and shaking his head. You decided to go into your new room.
It wasn’t anything too special, a small room with a bed up against the wall, next to a tall blurry window. A wardrobe sat by the wall opposite to the bed. A few unlit (though it didn’t matter much because the room was illuminated by the moonlight flooding in from the glass) candles lay on top of a night stand adjacent to the bunk.
You sat down on the bed, finding it stiff and lumpy. Better than the backseat of your car. You take the private moment to think about how your day has been so far. An emotional rollercoaster, that’s for sure. You silently wonder about the man that’s been rather kind to you. Did he own this church? Was he the priest? He didn’t look like one. He was too.. silly, the only way to describe him. The way he rambled about the sisters and brothers that lived here on the way to the room charmed you, and you could only find yourself wanting to know more. What did he do here? How did he come to be here? Was he raised a satanist?
Your thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.
“Come in.”
“I could only find a few cassocks, I hope they fit..” He opened the door with his back, hands full.
“Is that usually what you guys wear around here? You seem to be dressed pretty casually.”
He looked down at himself and laughed, “Oh, well, yes. You’ve, eh, caught me at a bad time. We don’t normally get people this late.” Leather covered hands found yours as he handed over your new clothes and bedsheets.
“I hope I’m not a bother,” you politely said. In all honesty, you didn’t care too much. You were just happy to have a roof over your head and an actual bed to sleep on.
“Nonsense! We’re always happy to gain a new member,” his gaze pierced through you, and you were unable to look away. The tension in the room was so thick it was hard to breathe. Copia smiled down at you and you swore you saw his eyes flicker down your body. “I’ll leave you to sleep and have somebody wake you for the morning mass, yes? Unless you don’t want to attend.”
“No! No, I’m.. honestly curious as to what you guys do around here.”
He smiled at you again, this time with a more cynical and knowing glint to it.
“Hm, yes. Okie dokie, goodnight, brother.”
“Goodnight,” you called as he shut the door. It was only until he left that you realized he had called you a ‘new member’. Your stomach flips. Did you deadass just join a satanic cult? On accident? Of course this is the sort of thing that would happen to you. Sweat beads on your forehead as your imagination runs wild. Would they do something to you? What would they do? The guy had mentioned ghouls for fucks sake! Your body scrunched into a ball on your sad little mattress and a soft cry punched its way out of your body for the third time that day. All you wanted was some sanctuary. Well, you guess you got it.. technically.
————————
Eventually, sleep has you in its grasp. You try to fight it off, attempting to be as alert as you can through the night, but you fail. You startle awake, unaware that you had even fallen asleep, to rapid knocking at your door.
“Mass starts in 10,” a masculine voice called from the other side.
“Yeah, c-coming!” Looking around your room, you deem it less intimidating than it had been during the night. The moonlight, although illuminating, had cast its dark shadow upon the parish. A bad first impression.
You scrabble out of your sweaty clothes and into the raven cassock Copia had graciously supplied for you the night prior. You noted that your chest tape was starting to peel off. The clothes were slightly tight on you, but it wasn’t suffocating.
The door opens just as you finish doing your bed and-
Oh.
What you assume is one of the ghouls Copia had mentioned before is standing in your doorway. Of course, being you, you stare.
After a moment, you say, “Um.. hello!” It comes out awkward and pathetic.
“You’re the new brother, yeah?” its black mouth opened and showed you the white fangs hiding inside. Sick.
“Yeah I am. I think. Honestly I came here last night just looking for a place to stay, I didn’t intend on joining.. this.”
The ghoul gave you a look that told you were definitely the new brother. His scrawny arms beckon to you, and having no choice, you approach. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and brought you out of your room.
“We have mass every morning at 8, okay? So be up by then. There should be an alarm clock inside your nightstand. Wow these clothes are tight on you. You’ve got nice hips.” His tail swished from side to side as he rambled on, detailing what a regular day in the church looks like while leading you down the corridor. You were stiff and unsure by his side.
The two of you arrived at a door that you recognized as the main area you had entered through. An organ was being played loudly, penetrating the walls and your body.
“Go find a seat, yeah?” He leaned in close to your face, analyzing you. He took a whiff and cringed backwards hissing, “Catholic.”
..Right. You weren’t offended, if anything, you agreed.
The ghoul scampered back down the hallway and took a turn, leaving you all alone. You snuck into the room as quietly and quickly as you could. Thankfully, your presence went unnoticed. The pew you sat on towards the very back of the room creaked ever so slightly under your weight, making you wince. Red curtains had been flung over the windows to protect the unholy chapel from the rising sun. Mass hadn’t started yet, so you sat and enjoyed the music and the murmuring while you waited. People were mingling about, and it seemed like this place had a genuine community. The two sisters in front of you were leaning against each other. Cute. Then, everybody twisted around to the sound of a bell.
You turned too, and what you saw made you freeze.
It was Copia again, but this time, he wasn’t wearing those comfortable sweatpants. Oh, no. He adorned a silky black robe that brushed against the floor and his leather platform loafers. His sleeves had pretty raven ruffles peaking out from the cassock followed by those same leather gloves from the night before. You still remember how they felt against your fingers. His stole was laced with gold and embroidered copper skulls trailed along the middle. On his chest, his vestment read ‘IV’ surrounded by golden rays. Copia’s face paint had also changed, his skin no longer showing. White paint replaced his peachy tone, with black lips and cheeks. The way it was painted on reminded you of a skull, almost. God, you were practically salivating.
Every eye in the room was boring into him, including (if not especially) yours. He crept along the red carpet running between the pews. Every head in the room seemed to trail after him, all the way up towards the ambo. Once he got up to the ambo, the organ player stopped, and there was silence.
“Good morning, my brothers and sisters of sin!”
“Good morning, Papa,” the congregation replied.
“Let me speak from the heart for a moment. To work together, and to, eh… to grow together, we must be tolerant,” somebody in the crowd coughs, “Satan’s gift to the church is its variety. It is this variety, this diversity of people and views which gives our beautiful congregation its strength. And over the course of many years, let me tell you, there is one sin, which I have come to fear.”
There’s an uncertain pause after he says this, and it’s because he said he fears a sin. The priest(?) of this satanic parish, fearing a sin?
“Certainty,” He shifts his weight to his other leg. “Certainty is the great enemy of unity. Certainty is the deadly enemy of tolerance. Our faith is a living thing, precisely because it walks hand-in-hand with doubt. I myself have had struggles in the past, as I’m sure some of you have also had. If there was only certainty, and no doubt, there would be no mystery.. and therefore no need for our faith.”
Muttering arises from the crowd as they take in the information given to them.
Copia smacks his lips, “Anyway. We’ve got a new brother who arrived just last night! I don’t.. see him.. Ah! There he is, all the way in the back!”
Suddenly all eyes and heads were twisting and turning towards you, and your face burned with embarrassment. You shyly waved at the sisters and brothers staring at you, and a few of them smiled and waved back.
“Okie dokie, mass is over. May the unholy father be with you all!”
Everybody arose and filed out of the room, going to do.. sinful.. things? Maybe have, like, an orgy or something. You didn’t know. You were the stupid new guy. Fresh meat. You didn’t go out with everyone else. You chose to stay behind, hoping to catch up with Copia. Papa. Whatever.
The man in question noticed you hanging around afterwards and came up to you.
“How did you like it? Eh? Pretty cool, right?” He was so giddy.
“Yeah,” a soft laugh, “it was. One of the.. ghouls, I think, woke me up. They’re very forward. And he smelled ‘catholic’ on me.”
“Then you have some sinning to do, hm?”