The largest window of the church rested on the second floor and took up most of the diameter of the large wall it was placed on, and all that remained was a row of crosses on poles afront. At one point, it contained a stained-glass image of a large cross, in which the sun would reflect its image upon the wood floor beneath. The rectangular hole was barren of any glass that was left in it, as if the stained glass never existed. Not too far off from the world outside the wall, and the world that ceased to exist inside. There were at least a hundred inside back in the time forgotten, and now there remains under a dozen. They had those blood sucking freaks on the outside to thank for this. That and fending off the church goers who had their hearts set on dining on the communion bread and wine for breakfast. However, that sigh of relief was much short lived since this remained one of the group’s main sources of food supply. That and a small patch of vegetables growing in the greenhouse outside.
Just another Sunday inside the church, with the small congregation broken up into their social circles, or in some instances partaking in drawn out brooding sessions. The extraverted and introverted types inside the walls figured it best not to impede on each other’s coping mechanisms. What was once an atmosphere of terror and anxiety of the unforeseen future was overcome by a wish of death much sooner due to boredom. Only so many hymns to sing in one book, only so many books to read, only so many passages of scripture to meditate on, only so many board games, ceiling lights to count, and so on. Worshiping the Lord is a much difficult task when it is viewed as a nothing more than a job. One young man in particular, found a peculiar liking to the aforementioned large hole in the wall, and he lost count of the constant rising and setting sun. At nightfall, the hole staring sessions were short lived. Though, some did entertain the thought of a vampire popping up from the hole in the wall, for it would make their current living circumstances a slightest bit more interesting. Nonetheless, they should be at the very least grateful this has not happened yet. Or at least, to their knowledge.
The young man that lazy Sunday afternoon was interrupted by a light pat on his shoulder, causing him to startle a little. “Still fancy that window Brody?” the face behind him asked. “Afternoon” Brody answered begrudgingly, as per usual on such occasion. “We missed you this morning again” the woman said. “You mean every morning?” Brody asked sardonically. “Still not convinced on joining us for morning worship?” the woman asked in mild concern. Brody answered her with a light shake of his head, as his lightly sunken eyes looked at her wistfully. “Not ready yet, huh?” the woman asked, which was once more met with a light head shake. “Well, you know that God isn’t just on the first floor, you can talk to him up here as much as you can down there,” said the woman. “Afterall Brody, you can’t just come down during mealtimes.” “Why not?” Brody asked somewhat cold. “Well… why don’t you come down and socialize with some of the other kids your age. I bet they get lonely just like you. Missing their families, wondering what happened to-”. She stopped once Brody started to look at her saddened, then he turned around after a few seconds to stare back at the orange glow cast upon him and the room. “They have their ways of coping and so do I,” Brody gruffed, glaring out the window with his hands in his jean’s pockets. “Well, doesn’t it get cold up here?” the woman asked. Brody just shrugged in response. “Yeah, well you’re always wearing that jacket, even during warmer months like this. I mean, I know it’s early fall, but still,” the woman said. “What are you too yammerin’ on about now?” a voice from a far-off corner barked.
Brody was not the only individual who would brood in the same room, as it were the second favorite spot of another individual. The term favorite was loose however, since he had to be there for most of the time except for traveling downstairs to slug more wine or release his bladder. He would lie in the dark corner with his back slumped against the cold wall. He had his hands rested on his long-sleeved navy-shirt and kept the one eye he had shut for most the time, whilst the other did nothing under his black eye patch and Stetson. He chewed on a toothpick casually as he kept one brown harness boot rested atop the other, leaving his dark brown leather trench coat off to the side. The jacket contained a large revolving pistol with a leather satchel of other various weapons to degrees, and a pair of black leather gauntlets rested atop. He kept quiet for most of the time and paid no heed to the angsty teen in the black hoodie who joined him in the same room, sometimes accompanied by the maintenance engineer. Interferences such as these though, were deserving of his gruff, especially in instances of an interrupted slumber.
“Were just having a conversation, Gage,” the woman answered. “Got plenny of room for that downstairs donchya’s? Your husband already got enough practice in with them’ hot aired bible stories he go on about all the live long day,” the middle aged man graveled in a thick country accent. “It wouldn’t hurt you to come down and listen to them either,” the woman hollered. “I hear my share,” Gage graveled. “On occasion’s other than wine rummaging escapades and bathroom visits I mean,” the woman quipped. “You ain’t even got no bourbon or none of them Jack Daniels,” Gage graveled. “Contrary to your opinion, this isn’t a tavern,” retorted the woman, “Besides, you can’t get wasted when we got a huge gaping hole in the wall for you to keep watch on mister!”. “I get two other people up here on watch wit me and one of em’s up here just as much as me,” Gage said. “Nor can we have you falling asleep on the job for the 500th time this month!”. “I’m just restin’ my eyes. Sides, ain’t nothin’ come in that winder anyways, except for some tiny poot-tee-weet burd and all em’ gnats and skeeters. Them bat brained numskulls don’t even’ come in without askin’ anyways. All theys would do is stare at the hole till the cows come home, whisperin’ all sorts of junk that nobody be listenin’ too,” said Gage. “Well, we would not want them knowing our whereabouts,” said the woman. “Well, that would give me sum teevee to watch and some music to listen too. Maybe some Franch music teevee if we get one of em’ hairy busty bats gawkin’ in here signin’ me a song,” Gage laughed haughtily. “Mind your manners! Unbeknownst to you, this is a church after all,” corrected the woman. “I can’t even get outta hear cause you let them bat brains take off with my bike,” Gage complained. “We didn’t let them do anything, you wrecked your motorcycle because you were drunk driving and we threw it out!” the woman responded defensively. “I see them bat brains flyin’ off wit it one night with my own eye,” Gage said. “Well maybe if you were to cut down on the drinking, you would know this. Especially because you have window duty,” she quipped. “Ain’t no bat brains care about no Podunk town church anyway. They don’t wanna be near no God, even if he do exist. There ain’t gonna be anythin’ in that winder no time soon. Ain’t here for the first two-hunned years we’ve been here, and ain’t gonna be here when we gotta foot in the grave. Or who knows, maybe they in that attic up dere’ sneakin’ around stealin’ me alkehawl,” Gage said pointing sloppily to the trap door across the room above him. “Don’t bet your life on that! And if you keep it up, your not getting anymore!” the woman said. “Man, doggone bat brains ate my motorcycle…drinkin’ all my alkehawl,” Gage grumbled as he tilted his Stetson back over his face.
The woman rolled her eyes and looked back at Brody concerned. He turned quickly to face the window again, and after letting out another sigh of defeat she continued. “I’m…I’m sorry Brody if I made you uncomfortable again. We’ve just been through this so many times and I know I keep bugging you about it but, it really worries me with the amount of time you spend alone up here. Just think if you were up here and something where to appear through the window and Gage wasn’t here to help, though then again what use he would be I don’t know, but still I…” she stopped when Brody started to glare at her again. There was another awkward pause, and after he looked away, she said “Just think about it some will you?” And away she went down the staircase, leaving the two men in the orange shadows as the sun began to set.
104Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAsr1QQ4ZLy
II
He mopped the floors of the restroom as a tune slipped from his lips. At one point it seemed he had more stride in which he stroked the floor with his mop, but his foie gras had started to fade away slowly as time passed on. Lester was his name. The first day on the job he was wide eyed and eager like anyone would be. His retirement could not come sooner however, when he had the sad realization that his first day on the job was the day they had boarded up the building. He would have not suspected that a midday siesta in a church pew would made his work cut out for him for the remainder of his life. Every day, up and down the halls with a broom and mop and plunger. The third of which he prayed he would not have to use, as he was more wary of having to use this than the crucifix he was equipped with. He wondered why he was not better equipped like the cowboy that lay asleep upstairs, considering the fact that he viewed his job as being of equal importance. Afterall, who would not want the church looking its best for when an onslaught of vampires was to come and demolish it?
Until the day of his retirement, for the better or for the worst, he figured it best to press onwards with his mop. These floors would not scrub themselves, no matter how hard he would pray. He was also the eyes and ears of the building, understanding the complex mechanisms constructed within the old walls of the church. From where each wires corresponding outlets were, to the pipes within the walls corresponding toilets. He even got to phone in on some interesting conversations the others would have. It was sad that people in his occupation were overlooked, but this were one of the things that worked to his favor, providing some entertainment to break the redundancy. The most interesting of conversations usually took place between three young girls. One of which he got to hear this afternoon, as he walked out the restroom towards the hallway. The music in his earbuds were kept at almost a whisper, to make sure it would not intrude on his eavesdropping. The three girls circled in the hallway, paying no heed to the man mopping the floor.
“What should we do next?” one of them asked. “I don’t know, how much time do we have before dinner?” another asked. “About an hour,” the first one answered. “I’m actually kind of tired, probably just want to rest up before dinner. I’m good with just sitting here and chatting if you guys are okay with that?” the first one asked. “Sure,” the second one answered disappointed. “What about you Nicola?” the first one asked the third girl. “Whatever” she shrugged, as they all slumped to the floor. After taking a moment to catch their breath, they continued. “Any latest gossip, Sam?” the second girl asked. “Not any I can think of Lila,” Sam said. “Come on, you say that every day,” Lila said. “Well, you know how things are day in and day out. I mean with the few of us stuck in here, do you really expect anything new?” Sam said. “Fair point,” said Lila. “What about you Nicola, how are things with you?” Lila asked. “Fine, I guess,” Nicola answered aloof. “Guess there’s nothing new on our end,” Sam answered. “Yeah,” Lila said. After another pause, another question was asked. “Say, any news on the guy upstairs?” Sam asked in small concern. “The weird old dude with the eyepatch, Gage?” Lila asked. “No, the younger guy. Brody, I mean,” Sam said. “The other weird dude that never talks?” Lila inquired mockingly. “That’s kind of rude first of all, and yes that’s the guy I’m referring to,” Sam answered in slight aggravation. “Beats me. The only one that talks to him is Mrs. Berling, but even then, she can’t seem to get a word out of him," Lila said.
“Wonder what’s bothering him?” Sam wondered. “I dunno, I mean, it’s rough for all of us here, but pouting about it won’t solve anything, Lila shrugged with a light smirk upon her face “Lila, you don’t know how other people cope. And saying things like that will probably discourage him from talking to us more so than he is already,” Sam said. “Fine, sorry” Lila groaned. “Why don’t we ask him to sit with us during dinner tonight?” Sam asked. “Doesn’t he sit with Stu’s group?” Lila asked. “Is he the guy with the artwork?” Nicola intervened abruptly. “Well, that’s the most you’ve said all day,” Lila snickered, to which Nicola quivered back a little. “I don’t think so, I’m not sure. I don’t think they talk to him much either,” Sam answered after an awkward pause. “I wonder why, he would fit in with those other weirdos,” Lila said. “Lila,” Sam corrected once more”. “Fine, sorry,” Lila groaned. After yet another long pause, Lila figured it best to propose another scheme.
“Hey, wanna rummage through Gage’s wine again?” Lila whispered. “And almost get caught like last time? I don’t think so,” Sam said. “Give us something to do. Sides, that old coot can’t tell left from right anyway. Speaking of,” Lila said, stopping once they saw a middle-aged man walk bull legged down the hallway, to which they changed the conversation to one completely unrelated. “What are you hens cluckin’ on about now?” Gage gruffed from beneath his gray beard. “Glad to see you too,” Lila retorted sarcastically. “Put a cork in it will ya, I can hear your cluckin’ all the way upstairs,” Gage grumbled. “Not as bad as your snoring,” Lila quipped. “Or you fartin’!” Gage retorted, as he walked to the restroom. “Excuse me?” Lila said in disgust. “You better not piss on the floor again in there, I just mopped the thing!” Lester hollered. “Yeah, yeah!” Gage groaned.
III
The rooms less visited worked in Stu’s favor. For it became his unofficial art studio in which everyone left him alone at his work. Those afternoons at the church he used as an opportunity to allow the creative energy to flow from his cranium unto the canvas in which he worked so diligently. A canvas of paper he used, as he kept his mind occupied inside the church’s nursery. Perhaps a peculiar location for a boy of his age, it still complimented his childlike innocence at heart. He preferred not to turn the light on, and instead allow the orange glow from the boarded window behind him to act as his studio light; as well as act as relaxation to allow his mind to work. On this one occasion in which he lightly sketched on a large sketchbook placed upon its easel, he stopped as his peripheral vision caught a familiar face. “Nice try guys, I can see your shadow on my book,” he said. “Drats,” the guy who tried to sneak behind him said smiling, as the other guy accompanying him laughed. “How’s it going Stu?” the stealthy one asked. “Not much Niko. How about you?”. “Oh, just me and Arthur moseying about finding places to creep into,” Niko said cheekily. “Yeah, and just trying to keep this one from intruding in Gage’s space,” Arthur said gently poking Niko on his shoulder playfully.
“What is that your drawing?” Niko asked, peering his head over Stu’s shoulder. “Just a bird,” Stu answered continuing to sketch. “Again?” Niko asked. “What’s the fascination with birds?” Arthur questioned. “I see their shadows flying past the cracks in the boards on the windows. The one I’m drawing now is unique since I see it only in the evening right before sunset. Sides, if you guys can think of anything else to draw that I haven’t drawn yet, do let me know,” Stu answered. “That bird’s kind of huge. Especially if you can see its shadows through the window slits. Has a beautiful physique though,” Arthur observed in slight concern. “Yeah, and that’s something I’ve wondered about too. But hey, at least it makes it easier to draw them,” Stu said. “Maybe we could trap one by the window and keep it as a pet?” Niko asked. “I don’t think we should pull anything through that window. Mrs. Berling would have a conundrum. Besides, Gage would yell at us for making too much noise,” Arthur said. “If he were awake to hear it,” Niko snickered. To which Arthur lightly poked at him again. “And I don’t think Brody would appreciate that either” Arthur said. “The quiet guy upstairs?” Niko asked. “Yes, who else would it be? It’s concerning how much time he spends alone,” Arthur said,
“I resent that,” Stu said with a light smile. “Oh! I’m sorry I didn’t mean-” Arthur started. “None taken. Maybe he just needs some time to himself. I have my drawing. Les has his sweeping. Gage has his sleeping…and drinking…and Brody…well…he has his brooding. In some sense, we all have a way of doing that,” Stu smiled. “Fair point, but why doesn’t he come down for Sunday morning worship?” Arthur inquired puzzled. “He could just not be ready yet. Probably just a late bloomer. He’ll warm up when he’s ready,” Stu shrugged lightly, as he continued to sketch the curvaceous bird upon his canvas. “True,” agreed Arthur. And times such as these it was fitting for their stomachs to start grumbling. “I wonder if dinner’s ready?” Niko asked. “Well, we could sit in the dining hall until it’s finished cooking,” Arthur said. “Sound’s good to me, how about you Stu?” Niko asked. “I’ll meet you guys in a few minutes,” Stu said. “Cool, see ya” Niko and Arthur said as they walked out. A few moments of some light touch ups finished, and he put his pencil down as he let out a light huff after a hard afternoon’s work. As he walked out, he could not help but take another glance at the orange glow from the window. The glow had a distorted comfort about it, both relaxing but at the same time a segway into the nightfall afterwards; which the people there were never used to and quivered at the thought. Deciding not to dwell too much upon it, he quietly left the room.
IV
Knock, Knock, Knock. This sound was made by a light tapping on the door to the bishop’s study, where Bishop Shawn worked diligently on his sermons and scripture readings. The old radio talked of news of what the outside world looked like. Though, the image in his head became redundant since he could only hear the same news of yet another vampire attack so many times. “Come in” he said, turning the blabbing radio off. The door opened to reveal his wife, Mrs. Berling, as she gently entered the room. “Good evening, dear” the bishop said, taking a small break from his writing to look at his lovely wife. “How’s your evening honey?” She smiled. “Oh, fine thank you. What’s cooking out there?” he asked. “You need to ask?” she smirked. “Well, you never know when the lord will answer our prayers for something other than red cabbage and communion bread. Although we should be grateful considering the current state of the world around us,” the bishop chuckled, looking back again at his sermons and prayer requests. “How are the children?” he asked after pausing a moment. “Oh, the boys and girls are just as rambunctious and angsty as to be expected for someone their age,” Mrs. Berling answered. “And Lester?” the bishop asked. “Sweeping his sorrows away,” Mrs. Berling answered. “And Gage?” the bishop asked. “Drinking his sorrows away,” Mrs. Berling answered.
“Well Margaret, believe it or not they are still blessings from heaven. Especially those children. They are as eager and excited to be world changers like we were. Though that opportunity may not come, it gives us something to look forward to. How about Brody?” the bishop said, starting to look up inquisitively once more, this time a moment longer. “Shawn, I’ve been trying to get him to budge for so long and he just won’t” Mrs. Berling said with a slight hint of pessimism. “Still by himself, huh?” the bishop pondered. “I mean, the other kids his age want to spend time with him but he has no interest. The only thing I haven’t is putting a gun to his head,” Mrs. Berling said. “I understand Margaret. It sometimes appears that God has given up on his promises in times where he is silent. Especially during many nights of earnest prayers not yet answered. And I know to them it might seem hard to believe that a fallen world and a world where God exists can work in perfect harmony, considering what they’ve been through at such an early age. Makes me wonder if the world now was the world in our time, would we have had the same tribulations.” “Yeah,” Mrs. Berling sighed. “And what makes it the most troubling for them is to have their loved ones eaten by those monsters, and for it to come from seemingly nowhere. But at the same time, and as difficult as it may seem, I can’t help but take pity on the vampire race, since it was a curse that they never wished or could even imagine happening to them. I mean, what if we ended up the same way? I would rather be dead than have to live an eternity feeding off the living,” said the bishop. “Very much so,” Mrs. Berling agreed. After moments pause in the comforting silence of the evening crickets, the bishop started once more.
“Nevertheless dear, it’s important to keep our hearts focused on the return of the Christ, and to focus on what he has tasked us with. Which is to provide comfort for these people, especially those dear children. Though not biologically ours, it’s hard to remember that with how long they’ve been in our care. And it warms my heart to see their childlike spirit in even the direst circumstances.” “And that’s why I love them so. Well anyway, I best go check up on dinner. See you in a little bit Honey,” Mrs. Berling smiled. She got up to give him a light peck on his lips, and a smile rested upon the bishops face long after she left the room. “Well Lord, I think that raps it up for the evening,” he said closing his bible. After he got up and wiped his glasses off with a small rag, he opened a desk drawer to pull out a small envelope on it with the word “Brody” inscribed atop. He was tempted to open it, but figured it was still not ready to be looked at yet. Putting the envelope back into its corresponding drawer, he went off to supper with a light smile upon his face.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
