It had been another successful Sunday sermon. The folks in the small town of Shadow Falls had filed into the pews donning their Sunday finest, small children holding the hands of their mothers. Silas had tailored his sermon to fit the current events of the town: how the first signs of the impending war occurred this past Halloween, wherein the vampires in town had been poisoned and all supernaturals were drawn into the lake by a defective siren. Then recently, the disappearances of three supernaturals in town. The Lord was declaring the beginning of his war against the unholy. The people were congregating to the church in search for meaning, and Pastor Bahar held the answers confidently.
It was time to annihilate the sinners, to punish the defectors from heaven. For too long the supernatural lurked in the darkest corners of the Earth and finally emerged to take innocent souls to Hell. Humans became foolish, gullible, and seduced by these monsters. Only now, God had had enough. He needed to protect His children, and hence, this expulsion of the supernaturals from Earth.
When the collection plate circulated, a lot of green fell onto it, more than the typical Sunday. Up on stage, his gaze fell it it-- only once-- and a small smirk surfaced on his face. When people were afraid, they would give whatever they could in order to protect themselves and their families. If that meant more bodies in the seats at church and more money to fund this war to protect faith and humanity, then Silas certainly wouldn’t object.
He finished up thanking everyone for attending, making sure to speak with and shake hands with each person who attended. People asked for the times for bible study groups, prayer circles, what they could do at home to keep themselves safe. Silas was finally getting the full attention and respect he deserved. As the crowd shuffled out little by little, Silas found the one person he hadn’t personally greeted yet: the elusive cardiologist, Dr. Dewey Foster. It was Silas’ understanding that the doctor was a vampire. Which begged the question, what was he doing here?
Silas clasped his hands in front of him, hanging them low as he stoically approached the doctor. “Doctor,” he greeted, his tone lacking the warmth it carried when he greeted his human disciples. What ulterior motive did this man have? How was he plotting to sabotage this sanctuary? “Did you enjoy my sermon?”
