Satanas Chapter 2.1 - Bloody Christmas

“Do you have any questions?”

The lecture was still in full swing in the classroom whose door was carefully opened. The projector, which had been running, turned off and a dim light came on, as students each raised their hands high in the air. This place, located near Westminster Abbey in London, was an Anglican seminary that produced Anglican priests every year.

It had been less than twenty years since Roman Catholicism, which had faced discrimination and oppression since King Henry VIII’s Reformation in the 16th century, had established friendly relations with Anglo-Catholicism. Today, Antonio was invited as a special lecturer on demonology, as a Vatican-recognized exorcist priest.

Tadeo, muffling the sound of his footsteps, sat in the very back row. Antonio, standing on the podium, singled out one of the students who had raised their hands.

“This question is a little distant from the content of the lecture, but would that be alright?”

“Such questions are precisely the brave and great ones.”

“I am curious as to who exactly created this thing called hell. Father, have you ever asked a demon during an exorcism rite?”

Tadeo smiled at the seminarian’s question. It was because it was the same question he had asked countless times while studying theology in France. It was the simplest and most primal question, but at the same time, the most intriguing one.

“I often ask Satan when I perform the rite of exorcism.”

Antonio loved answering such questions. He stepped down from the lectern and opened his mouth.

“They are beings bundled up in all sorts of lies. They do not give proper answers to the questions I ask. Except for one single case.”

His steps, which had reached the end of the classroom, turned back in the opposite direction. Antonio raised his index finger and emphasized.

“While performing the rite, there is a moment when the Lord God comes to us. It is at that very moment that the Lord makes them spew forth truthful words from their wicked mouths. And they answer like this.”

His steps, which had been walking toward the door, stopped. The black cassock’s hem sways above the dress shoes that have stopped precisely in the center of the classroom.

“That He did not create hell, and that they themselves created hell.”

All the students nodded their heads. Antonio’s eyes, having finished his answer to the question with his hands clasped, turned toward Tadeo. As his gaze, which had softened with the passage of time, reached him, it held a gentle smile. He began to walk again to end the lecture, which was now nearing its conclusion.

“They say that the Lord God always puts us to the test, but I have a different thought.”

Tadeo also listened intently until the very end. Antonio was the priest he respected most after his mentor, Peter, and the person he most wanted to emulate.

“The ones who truly put us to the test are none other than Satan.”

Tadeo, watching the lecture, nodded his head.

“They are more cunning and deceitful than anything in the world and love to worm their way into human weaknesses. Among those, their most! favorite prey is….”

Antonio’s voice was animated. His voice and gestures, ardently conveying his words, grew larger, and his gaze, looking at everyone in the classroom including Tadeo, sharpened.

“Priests of God, just like us.”

The corners of Tadeo’s mouth momentarily drooped low.

“They always circle around us, constantly testing us, agitating us, and throwing us into confusion.”

The excited voice hardly registered in his ears. His ears felt numb and the sound just seemed to circle outside. At Antonio’s voice, which was ringing with a low hum, Tadeo shook his head vigorously.

“Why? Because that is the perfect opportunity to insult the authority of the Lord.”

“…”

“That is all.”

When he swallowed and lifted his head again, Antonio’s lecture was over.

The two men, who had exited the classroom together, crossed the corridor. As they opened the exterior door, a passage lined with several arched pillars appeared. A shadow created by the late afternoon sun stretched out behind them as they stepped on the grass, passing the outer wall built of red brick.

“You have done a truly great thing, Tadeo.”

“You are too kind, Father.”

“I was sorry that I could not be of much help to you. The Lord must have been with you.”

“Amen.”

Tadeo slightly bowed his head at Antonio’s words.

“Yes. You said it was ‘Narantasa’?”

While walking through the long passage, Tadeo told him the story about Manila. The environment of abuse he grew up in, the reason why the rite had to be performed in a hurry, and even the name the demon had revealed.

“‘Narantasa’… that is a very famous Buddhist temple in India.”

“But it definitely said ‘Narantasa’.”

“Haha, a demon never tells its real name honestly.”

Antonio said with a smile at Tadeo’s innocent face.

“Impure beings that have never once been human would meekly answer a human’s question?”

“…”

“That is a ridiculous thing.”

Before long, they had passed through the corridor and were met by the setting sun. The mellowing yellow sunlight colored his white hair. The steps of the two men crossing the lawn came to a stop. There was no trace of a smile on Antonio’s face as he spoke, shaking his head.

“There are countless cases where they mention the names of monks or temples of other religions, or the idol gods they revere. It is a wicked intention to deceive the Lord God and furthermore, to instigate conflict between religions. Was there anything else?”

“Anything else…”

Tadeo paused for a moment. But he soon dismissed it as a demon’s prank and finished his answer.

“There was not.”

🦇

The morning of Christmas Eve dawned. Tadeo, who started his day earlier than others for the morning mass, left the house with excited steps.

Bell was left alone to watch the house. Sipping the whiskey Tadeo had bought, he was looking out the window when he put his hand into his robe pocket. What he took out was a brass-colored pocket watch with a gold rim. It looked quite old, with tiny wheels visible inside the dial where the hour and minute hands moved. Only the attached watch chain, a recent gift from Tadeo, sparkled, looking rather out of place.

Having checked the time, Bell slowly swirled the glass in his hand. The clinking sound of ice cubes overlapped with the crackling of the firewood. It was almost time for the mass to end.

Bell finished the remaining whiskey and turned away from the window.

The street in front of the cathedral on Christmas Eve was bustling with people. An eight-seater bus, shaped like a carriage with an engine, stopped in front of St. Paul’s Cathedral. Bell, who got off while pressing down his top hat, immediately stepped onto the low steps of the cathedral.

The mass was still in progress, perhaps delayed. Standing at a distance and looking at the splendid exterior, he took a step forward. As he got closer to the entrance, the cathedral’s cross, with its austere classical beauty, became hidden by the steeple.

“Hail Mary, full of grace.”

The path to the sanctuary was so very long.

“The Lord is with thee, blessed art thou amongst women…”

He walked along the path where a golden nocturne flowed, passing through the crowded people. While everyone was praying solemnly, only the sound of Bell’s dress shoes echoed loudly in the sanctuary. Yet, no one was conscious of his presence.

He was like an invisible being. Even when he stopped his steps in the middle of the baroque-style sanctuary that had spanned Europe for two centuries.

“…pray for us sinners, Amen.”

Indeed, there is one who shines alone at that far end.

Bell looked at Tadeo, who stood with the massive cross like a halo behind him. The long eyelashes that settled on his clear, pale cheeks were like an angel’s feathers, and the pure white habit he wore today was as immaculate as an angel’s. Except for those bewitchingly smacking, reddish lips.

He did not realize how long he had spent taking him in with his eyes. The procession of bishops, exiting while singing a hymn, and the choir following behind them, walked down the central aisle. Tadeo, holding a gilt censer and leading the choir, stared intently at an empty space.

🦇

“Merry Christmas, Bell.”

After the mass ended, the face that had been looking around for Bell finally broke into a wide smile upon leaving the cathedral. Seeing Tadeo running toward him, Bell felt a smile forming on its own. From within the crowd of countless people, Tadeo had recognized him in an instant. Even while singing the hymn following the bishop’s procession, his surprised, blinking eyes had not left him.

“…Merry Christmas.”

“What brings you here? You said you weren’t coming.”

“I came to see you wearing that.”

Tadeo was wearing a habit with a voluminous cape and hood, and the way it fluttered in the winter wind along with the spreading hem looked just like ruffles attached to a dress.

“This?”

His face was bright as he asked, holding and shaking the trailing clothes. His cheeks, which quickly got cold as he was sensitive to the cold, were tinged with red.

“Because the pure white suits you well and you look pretty.”

At Bell’s words, Tadeo’s heart began to beat fast. That pulse was clearly felt in Bell’s grasp. The expanding black pupils and the blush coloring his ears like a teenage girl were all clearly visible. In truth, he knew. He knew that Tadeo would strangely look elsewhere when he saw his exposed bare torso, and that he wouldn’t know what to do when his hand touched him.

And yet, you kissed me so nonchalantly. If you knew that I can see, without fail, those minute changes you turn away from, I wonder what kind of face you would make.

“Oh… right, the Lestrade couple said they’ll adopt Manila.”

Would you be shy like now? Or…

“Isn’t that wonderful?”

…would you run away?

“Tadeo.”

The name, uttered softly, was submerged in the chilly winter wind. Today, his eyes held the color of the Thames River, a rippling turquoise. His gaze, as if mesmerized by those beautiful eyes, was drawn in and could not contain anything else from the surroundings.

“I have waited a long time for you.”

A whole 16 years.

“The mass was a bit delayed. I’m sorry.”

It was cute how he apologized with a crestfallen face, not even knowing the meaning behind the words. As Bell smiled and turned away, Tadeo, who had been just blinking, trotted after him.

“I hope it snows today, Bell.”

The words he spits out with an unknowing face are even innocent.

“You must not be tired of saying that every single Christmas.”

“Shall we have a drink together today?”

Bell’s two legs stopped in the middle of stepping on the stairs. Tadeo, who had been following closely, passed by his side and looked up from one step below. With his fox-like features, the expressions he showed were all gentle and placid. The wind poured over that face, scattering his thin black hair in all directions.

Bell recalled the time they had faced each other on the cathedral steps not long ago. Only their positions had changed, but it was exactly the same as then. The face that had looked down disapprovingly was now smiling brightly from below him. Not even knowing what I am thinking right now.

The past, where the black cassock wet with wind clung to a slender body, was being painted over by the present, where white garments fluttered.

“You can’t hold your liquor.”

“It’s okay. It’s Christmas Eve today.”

Tadeo said with a shrug of his shoulders. Soon, a holy bell pealed above their heads. The sound of the bell, spreading out like skipping stones on water, passed the buildings of Soho Street and reached all the way to Victoria Street.

🦇

The draft was so severe that all the windows in the house rattled. When the front door downstairs opened, the whole house groaned and creaked. The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs was heard in succession, and two figures flickered through the stained-glass window. Soon, Tadeo and Bell, who had stopped by Borough Market and done a lot of shopping, entered the living room.

It had been exactly ten minutes since Tadeo, who had rolled up his sleeves saying he would cook the food they had eaten in Paris, entered the kitchen.

“Ah, hot…!”

Bell had been sipping the whiskey he had stocked up and pushing away the take-out fish and chips. When he turned his head toward the kitchen, his long, flowing hair cascaded down to his waist. Tadeo was holding his earlobe in front of the range.

“Come out. I’ll do it.”

Bell, who had approached without a sound, said as he grasped the round shoulder. It was impossible to tell what had been stir-fried in the pan on the stove. It was to the point where one might think the ashes from the fireplace had been stir-fried in there, it was so burnt black.

“I can do it.”

“Don’t be stubborn and come out. Come out and organize the stuff you bought so much of. Or, clear the table.”

Only at Bell’s blunt words did Tadeo back away. He stuck his head out and peeked at Bell’s cooking before leaving the kitchen. Whether he was organizing or just making a mess, there was a lot of rustling from behind. There was the sound of something dropping, and the sense of him bustling back and forth.

It was when he was about to transfer the finished food onto a plate. He felt a presence stealthily approaching from behind. Seeing him coming on tiptoe, Bell, who had briefly considered playing along, whirled around.

“It’s a Santa hat.”

His long hair, which fluttered easily, swayed following his sharp turn. Bell’s head naturally lowered to face the height that was shorter by more than a hand’s span. Tadeo’s face was visible between the strands of floating golden hair. As the red hat with a white bauble was placed on his head, the flying golden hair settled down as if by magic.

“When did you buy something like this.”

“Hmm, last year. And look at that.”

Tadeo was also wearing a Santa hat. Come to think of it, he vaguely remembered Tadeo buying them around last winter. It seemed he had found it after having shoved it somewhere and completely forgotten about it. Bell glanced toward where Tadeo was pointing.

“Since we don’t have a tree in the house, I decorated that as a substitute.”

Tree decorations were haphazardly hung on the stand-up coat rack next to the bookshelf. Tadeo did not forget to add that the rack, made for hanging clothes, looked like spreading branches. Looking at the dangling ornaments, Bell slightly furrowed his brow.

“You might as well ask me to pull out a tree from Hyde Park.”

“Mrs. Morita would report you then.”

Tadeo said, looking very pleased. He liked all sorts of useless knick-knacks. He liked anything just because it was sparkly and pretty, and it was common for him to pick things up. Perhaps the reason he likes Christmas is not because it is the birth of Jesus, but simply because he can collect a lot of things that are just pretty.

Bell showed no further reaction and continued what he was doing. Tadeo also turned to leave the kitchen. Of course, not one to miss it, he snapped his fingers without looking back. Tadeo, whose ankle was firmly caught, could not take another step.

“Come here, Tadeo. Stop that and just come and sit.”

The books, which had been brought not only into the living room but also dragged into the kitchen, were piled up on one side of the dining table, and all sorts of mail, extras, newspapers, and magazines were serving as a tablecloth. Tadeo pushed them all away and placed a candlestick he had brought from somewhere.

Bell flatly refused his request to light it. One might have expected him to pout, but Tadeo sat down quietly without a single complaint. Bell took off the Santa hat he was wearing and placed the last plate on the table. The small, late lunch of Christmas Eve had begun.

From the dust-settled gramophone, an unknown piano piece from the Bülow Record Company was playing. The ornaments, reflecting the fireplace flames, served as lighting in the dim living room. The candlelight, which Bell had sneakily lit without Tadeo knowing, also added flair to the meal.

“Stop, Bell. Stop pouring. I have the Vigil Mass later, I can’t.”

The skin visible above his stretched-out T-shirt is all flushed red. On Bell’s plate, the chunk of meat he had casually taken was still there. Tadeo alone had devoured more than half of the food. Bell, who had been observing him with his chin propped on his hand, filled Tadeo’s glass with wine as soon as it was empty.

“You’re already drunk.”

“Me? As you can see, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, as I can see, you’re totally wasted.”

The way he kept grinning foolishly was amusing. Thanks to that, it wasn’t boring, which was good. Bell corrected him nonchalantly and poured strong rum into his own mouth.

“But you know what? Bishop John once conducted mass while completely drunk. Haha, that was really funny.”

Tadeo, who had been twirling his finger in the air, suddenly stood up, leaning on the table. Bell, who had been listening with half an ear, stopped the scraping of his fork on the plate and looked at him.

“You should have seen the bishop staggering. Look, like this…”

“Sit down. It’s dangerous.”

Tadeo avoided alcohol for the reason that his heart would pound in his head when he drank. Therefore, the day he got drunk was close to a miracle. His drunken habits were quite tame; he sobered up as quickly as he got drunk, and he would become endlessly more cheerful and talkative. He would occasionally do something unexpected, but it was manageable within Bell’s control, so it was fine. Except for the fact that his bullheadedness became even stronger.

“I told you I’m fine…”

Tadeo, who had shot up and turned his body toward the living room, bumped his knee against the table leg. The old, worn-out table shook entirely. There was a sound of a rather hard collision, but he just stood there blankly like a dazed person.

“Tadeo.”

“…It’s snow, Bell.”

Tadeo murmured in a very small voice. His feet, clad in furry slippers, slowly moved away from the table. As soon as he crossed the threshold, his head, with the white fur ball on the hat bobbing, ran to the window.

“It’s snowing.”

Excited, he even pressed his forehead against the window. Bell stood up, watching Tadeo who couldn’t take his eyes off the scenery outside, his hands on the windowsill. Each time a rough gust of wind passed, the windowpane trembled, and the coolness seeped into his flushed, tipsy skin.

The nameless piano piece is still repeating on the gramophone. Bell’s fluttering robe stood overlapping behind the worn-out red tartan robe. Tadeo’s face, his gaze following each falling snowflake, was reflected in the windowpane.

“Even if it snowed in Africa, no human would be as happy as you.”

“Bell, you granted my wish.”

“I did?”

When Bell asked back, Tadeo nodded, his forehead still pressed against the window.

“Snow falling on Christmas Eve, I love it so much. I hope it snows until tomorrow.”

“…What if.”

Bell, who had been looking at the same place, uttered a low word. Only then did Tadeo tear his gaze away from the window. Though he turned away as soon as he saw the bare chest pressed close.

“What if, it wasn’t me who granted it?”

Bell leaned in closer, placing a hand on the window. A few strands of his long hair flow down below Tadeo’s shoulder. As if cornering him in a dead end, Bell pressed his whole body against him.

He wrapped his arm around his waist with the hand that had been on the windowsill. The lean body fit perfectly into his broad embrace. The black eyes reflected in the window could no longer follow the falling snowflakes.

“What if, I am not an angel.”

“…”

“What if I.”

What if I intend to blaspheme that God who exiled me, by means of you.

What if, in fact, I am the being you should despise the most.

What if that meal we shared today… was in fact the Last Supper.

“It still doesn’t matter, Bell.”

Tadeo said with a face flushed red like a ripe apple. He slipped his captured arms out and stood face to face with Bell. The Santa hat that had been precariously perched on his head slipped off and fell with a thud. His back hair, which had gotten staticky from a brief rub against the robe, was now disheveled.

The eyes holding the blue pupils widen distinctly. The frayed red sleeve hem hangs down before his eyes.

“To me, what’s important is that it’s you. Yes, even if you were a demon…”

Tadeo said, wrapping his arms around Bell’s neck.

“You are my angel, Bell.”

It was a distance so close that even the chapped skin on his reddish lips was visible. Thump, thump, thump. The sound echoing around Bell’s left chest spread to his ears. The sound of his heart pounding was quite loud. At first, he thought it was Tadeo’s heart, throbbing in his grasp. But he soon realized that the pulse, which churned his insides enough to make him feel sick, was his own.

“You’d better remember what you just said.”

I won’t let you off the hook saying you don’t remember because you were drunk.

Bell grabbed the disheveled hair at the back of his head and pressed their lips together. The back of Tadeo’s head hit the windowpane with a thump. As his head naturally tilted back, the hand that had been wrapped around his neck naturally grabbed onto Bell’s shoulder. The tongue that parted his lips and entered was as hot as it had been a short while ago.

The hand that slipped from his shoulder once again, this time, braced against the windowsill. A large, even elegant hand with long fingers suddenly entered the oatmeal-colored t-shirt. The loose-fitting t-shirt, stretched wide by the arm inserted deep inside, billowed wildly. The fingertips, which tickled and fumbled their way up, drew a line straight down from the cross pattern etched as a mark to his navel.

“Ah…!”

With a tongue filling his small mouth, leaving no room to breathe, he let out a moan. Bell felt as if blood was rushing to his head. The hand that had been hovering around his ribs suddenly shot out from the stretched-out neckline. He gripped the slender neck and devoured his lips in one bite. From that force, the back of the black-haired head hit the windowpane once more.

“Hoo… hooo….”

Violent breaths mix with faint ones. While pushing roughly, Bell still cradled the head that kept bumping against the glass. The black hair that filled the spaces between his fingers was as soft as a newborn animal’s fur. The palm cradling the back of his head repeatedly scratched and stroked. The other hand, which had been gripping his neck, gradually moved down and touched the small, budding nipple.

“W-wait, Bell…!”

In his bewilderment, Tadeo pushed Bell away. But it was of no use. Bell did not budge, so Tadeo had to twist his head to barely free his lips. The words he was trying to say came out in broken pieces on his ragged breath. The saliva he couldn’t swallow flowed around his lips and stained his chin.

“Bell, just a moment….”

The glistening lips moved before his eyes. Bell did not wait and immediately devoured them again. He seemed to have reached the end of his patience, acting as if he had hit his limit. Tadeo’s hands were suspended in the air, as if they had lost their way.

The desire that burst forth, too much to contain, only made him thirstier the more he pushed. He sucked greedily and moistened his throat with saliva as if downing liquor, but it was like pouring water into a bottomless pit.

Bell’s lips slipped from Tadeo’s. Once on the slender jawline, once on the concave curve of his neck. After kissing each spot, he let out a deep sigh. Then he buried his forehead in the nape of his neck. The hand that had been inside the t-shirt braced against the window again. Tadeo rested his chin on the thick shoulder and quietly gasped for breath.

“Tell me if you don’t want to.”

Bell also said, catching his breath. In his dark eyes that rolled sideways, he saw a fist tightly clutching the hem of the red robe.

“Then I won’t do it.”

“I d-don’t know. I don’t know what’s what….”

“What don’t you know. Are you a child?”

“This kind of thing… you didn’t teach me…. You, and no one else… to me….”

The mumbling lips spoke in a very small voice, haltingly.

“That’s why I’m teaching you now. Only I can teach you this. No one else should teach you. Not even God.”

“…Why?”

“Because if someone other than me were to teach you, I think I would kill them all, whoever it is.”

I don’t know the reason. I just feel like it might be so. Bell, who had been barely composing himself with his eyes closed, raised his eyebrows. His vividly awakened blue eyes peered into Tadeo’s face.

“Bell… but we, I, shouldn’t be doing this….”

The stammering lips closed. He was blinded by those beautiful eyes. He rationalizes himself, and finishes justifying everything that is about to happen. The force pulling him in is so intense, he naturally makes the excuse of being drunk. As if possessed by something.

“You didn’t say you didn’t want it, then.”

Bell said, peeling off the red robe. Because I asked for your intention, not the principle. Knowing it wasn’t sincere, the sight of Tadeo wrapping his arms around his neck was dizzying. Bell burrowed into his nape again. The way he twisted his head was similar to the posture of a predator breaking the neck of its prey.

The wide-open lips bit down on the tender flesh and sucked hard. Along with the flesh, a faint body odor came in. Tadeo’s scent was always the same. The smell of warm milk. It was too fresh to be called the milky scent of a baby, and too far to be described as just sweet.

Beyond the rolled-up t-shirt, the black cross covered in a rose bush and a small nipple were revealed. Bell held the protuberance, which looked like a dot painted with red pigment, along with the flesh in his mouth. The tongue, which had been prodding with elasticity, touched the raised protuberance, flicking it, and licking it gently.

“Hah, that tickles….”

Tadeo, with his unfocused eyes, closed and opened them, writhing slightly. But he doesn’t push away like before. With a low laugh, Bell swiftly lifted Tadeo by his thighs.

“P-put me down…!”

His startled, flailing body clung tightly to Bell. As his two legs wrapped firmly around his waist, Bell planted kisses on his exposed nape and entered the bedroom.

He carefully laid Tadeo on the old bed and climbed on top of him. The body, trapped between his knees, was stiff, so he met his eyes again to help him relax. He repeatedly brushed the hair covering his forehead, and pressed his lips upon it. Just as his lips, which had touched in sequence the space between his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose, the philtrum, and the border of his lips, were about to pull away.

Bang, bang.

Two gunshots were heard from outside. As if waking from a magical, light sleep, a sharp clarity quickly returned to the unfocused black eyes. Seeing this, Bell muttered a low curse.

“The gunshots just now.”

“So what. Is that what you’re curious about right now?”

The smooth face looking down at him, their eyes met, was deeply furrowed. His hair, mixed without a part, fell softly and tickled Tadeo’s chin.

“…No.”

The lips, glistening with saliva, answered after twitching several times.

Having made him give the answer he wanted, Bell licked his lips with satisfaction. Then, he threw off the indigo robe he was wearing and said.

“Then, quietly open your mouth.”

The ceiling, with its empty attic, cried in the wind. The entire house, built of brick and wood, creaks. In time with that eerie sound, the bed they were on also let out an ailing moan.

The light seeping through the small window under the angular roof was dimly bright. Yet the darkness, like mold that had set in the room, did not retreat. It devoured even that light, turning it into darkness.

Tadeo’s listless pupils stared at the fallen robe. As he looked up with trembling eyelids, there was a broad, round shoulder. Boasting milky skin even in the damp place, it connected to thick, strong arms that held him firmly captive.

Bell’s movements were as light, languid, and fluid as his hair. The ocean-like eyes, which met his without breaking away, felt as if they were casting some kind of spell.

“Eumm….”

A sticky sound filled the moment their lips parted. The tongue, which had licked his earlobe and traced the shell of his ear, sometimes made a greedy sound like a child sucking on candy. Tadeo felt the last vestiges of consciousness draining away from his fingertips and toes. It was as peaceful as being plunged into warm water, yet so confusing that his spirit, flying in the air, felt like it wasn’t his own.

It really felt like he was possessed by something.

“Hngh, aah….”

“Tadeo….”

The scrap of a t-shirt rolls up. As the sharp tip of a tongue touched his hollowed stomach, his hips gave a shallow jerk. Only then did Tadeo realize he was not in his right mind. Because he had forgotten all shame and was rubbing his buttocks against the sheets.

I don’t care. Anything. If it’s you, Bell. He wasn’t even ashamed of the words his weakened mind repeated, unable to overcome the temptation of carnal lust. In this moment, he was just a lamb. Not a shepherd leading a multitude of sheep.

Bang.

Another gunshot rang out in the Christmas Eve evening sky.

“Heup!”

Tadeo gasped for air like a person pulled out of the water. His blankly staring eyes widened, and his limp, loose body became stiff once again. Watching this, Bell scowled menacingly.

“S-stop….”

“What?”

The tips of his limbs drooped limply, like cotton balls soaked through with water. Tadeo raised his arms, which were too heavy to have any strength, and pushed Bell away. It was just enough force to push over the small lamp on the nightstand. It wasn’t that paltry force that made Bell, who had lowered his body, rise up.

His back, sinuous with bulging muscles, rose up, and his long, settled hair flowed down the groove carved along his spine. Bell was still holding Tadeo captive with his legs, but his eyes were a little surprised. This was the first human to ever overcome his temptation.

“I was out of my mind for a moment, Bell.”

Tadeo slowly felt his body relaxing. As his fingers started to move one by one, and even his legs, which had been powerless, became movable, he fully raised his upper body and sat up, scooting his hips back. Leaning his back against the headboard, he hurriedly pulls down the rolled-up t-shirt. With a deathly pale complexion, he even stuttered.

“What, what have I done….”

Bell grabbed the body that was trying to find its slippers and stand up.

“Look at me, Tadeo.”

“Sorry. I can’t look at you.”

His buttocks were planted back down by the force pulling him, but he did not look at Bell.

“I said look at me.”

Bell forcefully pulled the wrist he was holding. Tadeo sharply slapped that hand away. It wasn’t even enough force to break free. Yet the reason Bell’s hand was left alone in the air was because he had never once been rejected by him. Even if this was the first time for such a blatant act, hadn’t they engaged in embarrassing physical contact long before?

“…I’m sorry.”

Tadeo said without looking at him and got up from the bed. His upright legs soon walked toward the door.

“You’re not in your right mind, showing your back again.”

The low voice he let out was terribly desolate. He even had the illusion that the large mouth of a beast, ready to put his head in and crush it, was right at the back of his neck.

“That’s why I gave you a chance to push me away.”

And it wasn’t an illusion.

“Now you want to act all innocent?”

There was no sound of the bed springs moving. Bell, who had approached without a sound, snatched Tadeo’s arm. The lips that had been whispering right at the back of his neck were now moving right in front of him. At the voice that had sucked up all the darkness in the room, Tadeo swallowed dryly.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Bell.”

“Kissing is okay, but anything more than that is not?”

Bell sneered, not letting his gaze waver. Tadeo twisted his arm to get away as if he didn’t want to hear, but it was futile.

“Tell me!”

“I was out of my mind for a moment. I fell for it without realizing. Just like….”

Having no more confidence to face that strangely contorted face, Tadeo completely turned his gaze away.

“Just like I was possessed by something.”

He was terribly ashamed of himself. Was I such a person mired in lust? He felt like kneeling down before a cross and repenting right away. Tadeo berated himself, recalling what Antonio had said during his lecture a while ago.

“I… was sneaking glances at you… I, you….”

Tadeo squeezed his eyes shut. He retraces the time he started to become conscious of Bell. He remembers himself sneaking glances at his body, and at times blushing. Far from pushing him away, he shook his head violently as he remembered his two arms that had wrapped around his neck, his tiptoed feet, and his two legs that had clung to him so as not to fall. So, this is my fault.

“I will probably be punished….”

While Tadeo was rambling incoherently, his bloodless face was regaining its color. Before he knew it, it had ripened and was flushed red all the way to the tips of his ears. Watching the face that couldn’t even meet his eyes with a downward gaze, Bell felt like he was about to burst out laughing.

It was truly beyond imagination. The shepherd of the Lord was instead blaming himself. With the one who committed deceit and aestheticism right in front of him.

You would never dream that I made you that way, you.

“So please just let this go.”

As soon as he released his grip, Tadeo’s hand slipped away. Even the sound of his slippers dragging on the floor tickles the ear. The slender body, clad in a stretched-out oatmeal t-shirt, fled the room as if escaping. Yet Bell was not angry.

“Haha….”

Instead, he burst into a fragmented laugh. One hand, which had been covering his forehead, wiped down his face and rubbed his mouth. One corner of his mouth, visible between his spread, long fingers, is gruesome. The hand that had been rubbing his mouth went up again and swept back the hair that flowed down like water.

“Yes. Definitely different from those who are priests in name only.”

He turned away, pressing his lips together as laughter kept escaping. Approaching the window, Bell put his hand into his pants pocket. The evening sun had completely set and disappeared, the sky was dark indigo, and the snow was still falling.

‘You are my angel, Bell.’

The blind spot in his blue eyes fades. The face, clearer than the falling snowflakes, overlaps with his own reflection in the windowpane. And naturally, his heart revives. That tremor even overwhelmed the sound of Tadeo’s heartbeat felt in his grasp.

That one word of yours has turned all my long-laid plans to nothing.

🦇

The snow, which must have been falling all over London, seemed to be falling particularly thicker and whiter only in Kensington Gardens. With the snow already piled up, people who had come out of their houses were busy clearing it. The blown snow tumbled down, revealing the grime-stained surface of the road. The pure white habit, fluttering at the toe of his worn-out leather shoes, was soaking wet.

Tadeo walked blankly down the road, his mind constantly replaying what had happened with Bell. After coming out of the small alley where houses were clustered together, he stopped in the middle of the snowy road, which was chaotically marked with wheel tracks. Then, hearing the sound of a bell from afar, he stepped back for a moment and held out his hand.

“Are you going to St. Paul’s, sir?”

The sound of the motor engine attached to the carriage was so loud that the driver holding the steering wheel shouted. When Tadeo nodded, he gestured for him to get in.

“Are you a priest?”

“Yes. I have to prepare for the Vigil Mass.”

“Oh, it seems the news hasn’t reached here yet.”

At the driver’s words, Tadeo just blinked.

“There was a murder there.”

“What?”

“They say some nun shot a priest with a gun.”

Only then did he remember. The three gunshots that had echoed through Kensington Gardens. But, how could the sound from there have been heard all the way here?

“It’s chaotic over there because of that, but it’s very quiet here.”

As if only he and Bell had heard that sound.

The snowy road was slippery, and the driver grumbled several times. The car they were in entered Soho Street, and in the distance, the two beautiful steeples of St. Paul’s Cathedral came into view. His pounding heart began to race even more. It was pumping furiously, but the blood failed to reach the tips of his hands and feet. Tadeo repeatedly clenched and unclenched his hands, which were growing cold.

The front of St. Paul’s Cathedral was a sea of people. There were barricades set up, as the police were there, and the crowd surrounding the crime scene was busy craning their necks.

“Just let me off here.”

Tadeo said urgently, holding out money. As soon as he got out of the car, he started running. His foot slipped on the snowy road, and his body tumbled. He dirtied his hands by bracing himself on the wet ground, but he paid it no mind and got up to run again. His eyes, rolling around as if lost, frantically took in the people.

“Who are you!”

“What’s with this yellow monkey!”

No one made way for the unfamiliar Asian man. They crowded even more tightly, pushing Tadeo away. In this land where a clear class system existed based on skin color, the habit he wore was useless.

“Father Tadeo! Hey, can’t you get out of the way?!”

Fortunately, Lestrade spotted him. Pressing down on his derby hat, he ran over, supported Tadeo, and began to push through the tightly packed crowd. ‘Police! Police!’ As he, with a waistline the size of a large bundle, pushed his way through with gusto, a path was easily cleared.

“I-Inspector, what in the world is going on…?”

“F-Father… well…”

Lestrade took Tadeo to a corner. As he hesitated to speak while wiping away his sweat, Tadeo grabbed him and urged him on.

“I heard on the way. A nun shot a priest. What is that about….”

“Father, you must calm down and listen first.”

Lestrade, who had roughly stuffed the handkerchief he had used to wipe his sweat, with difficulty parted his tightly sealed lips.

“Father Antonio… has passed away.”

The arm that had been holding onto Lestrade dropped limply.

“By Sister Rosa.”

For a moment, his vision swam, and Tadeo squeezed his eyes shut. Lestrade wore a troubled expression. He knew better than anyone how much he had followed Father Antonio. He had faced countless cases, but the kind-hearted Lestrade pressed his lips, hidden by his bushy mustache, tightly together and held back tears.

“I was just about to visit you, Father.”

Many thoughts came and went before he could part his reluctant lips. But as soon as Lestrade said those words, he regretted it and could not lift his bowed head. Tadeo opened his closed eyes. His vision, which had been engulfed in a blur, gradually cleared. Lestrade let out a deep sigh and shook his head, quickly changing the subject.

“No. Let’s give it some time….”

“No. Please tell me.”

The words that flowed from his troubled heart were dry. Lestrade just ground his innocent eyes with his shoe before nodding.

“Sister Rosa is asking for you, Father.”

Tadeo’s glossy black eyes, which had been directed at his feet, shot straight up.

“She says she won’t even open her mouth unless she sees you, Father. Father, you don’t need to overexert your…”

“I’ll meet her.”

Tadeo said in a firm tone, cutting Lestrade off.

“Where is she, right now.”

🦇

A car belonging to the London Metropolitan Police’s Serious Crime Division drove on the snowy road. On the other side of the car, which was moving away leaving tire tracks, London Bridge was visible nearby. The car entered a building that looked like a castle in front of London Bridge. The place, past the heavy-opening iron gate, was like a fortress surrounded high by several castle walls. The car, having received permission to pass, started driving again and stopped in front of a gray brick wall.

Getting out of the car, Tadeo looked up at the end of the steeply high building. The snow had stopped by the time he arrived at the London Remand Prison.

Keeek, the door of a room that looked like an interrogation room opened. The sound of rusty hinges echoed and reverberated down the sparsely lit corridor. Lestrade and the investigator repeatedly emphasized that they would be waiting outside, so not to worry. Tadeo gave a small nod at their words and entered.

“Nice to see you, Rosa.”

The interrogation room, where not even the stove was lit, was frozen solid with the severe cold of winter. White breath puffed out from Tadeo’s slightly parted lips. As the door closed, the nun, whose hands were tied behind her back and bound to the chair, lifted her deeply bowed head. It was the same face that had smiled shyly while talking with Bell fifteen days ago.

“You’ve come, Deacon Tadeo.”

Keek, keek. A small light bulb, hanging from the ceiling by a cord, swayed. As soon as Rosa saw Tadeo, her eyes welled up with tears. She was welcoming him with a face full of emotion. Tadeo went to the wide desk and pulled out a chair. Kkeekigeek, the unpleasant sound of it scraping the floor filled the interrogation room. He sat down facing Rosa and placed his clasped hands on the desk.

“I heard you were looking for me.”

“You are very calm. Honestly, I thought you would demand to know why as soon as you saw me.”

Rosa’s eyes were bloodshot. It was because she hadn’t blinked once since Tadeo entered.

“Will you answer if I ask.”

At Tadeo’s words, Rosa nodded her head vigorously. She leaned her body forward, but due to the restraining ropes, only the chair rattled.