(A/N): In this chapter will be a bit of gore, not too much but still. You have been warned! :)

Opening his eyes, the priest took a couple of seconds to remember where he was. He was lying on a king-sized bed with red silk sheets, fluffy pillows stuffed with feathers of black swans, and whose head and post were made with an exotic black wood. Pushing aside the red curtain that hung from the bedposts, he looked around the best room of the monastery, in which the other monks insisted that he stayed.

Expensive fur carpets were covering the aged but well-kept wooden floor, a stone fireplace was placed in front of a huge glass window from which hung thick garnet curtains. The furniture was the same color as the bed and looked as old as it. All the room was full of elegant gold and silver ornaments that gave the room an air of royalty that made difficult to believe this place was in the middle of an abandoned village. The main piece of the room was a big portrait above the fireplace. I t was a beautiful young lady with (H/C) strands of hair gathered in a complicated old-styled hairstyle. Her vestment was also old-styled and her (S/C) skin seemed smooth. She wasn't wearing any make-up and she didn't need it, her warm shiny (E/C) orbs didn't need anything to bring out their natural beauty. Probably she was an already passed away noble that lived in this town when it was in its golden ages.

Realizing that he has been transfixed by the lady in the portrait, he mentally scolded himself for acting in a non-priest way and got up to dress himself. He was trying to empty his mind of impure thoughts. He was a priest after all. Priests weren't allowed to have love relationships with women or men. Love and lust were forbidden. He had to keep his cool. It was stupid how much that simple image had affected him. It was like as if it had something that attracted the eyes, something magic, a feeling of sorrow and longing emanating from it.

'It's like as if watching in her eyes you could see her past, a happy time until it was destroyed by some misfortune, almost like mine...' he thought. Shaking his head he glanced once more to the painting and went out of the room.

Walking out of the building and into the interior square garden, he strolled pass the bushes of red roses, strange blossoming cherry trees, exotic Indian trees and leafy Chinese plants. It was a wonder how they survived so long without any human-care in this cold place. Maybe "It" had taken care of them out of boredom. Because the priest was sure that "It" was here.

Being already night and knowing he couldn't get any more sleep, the priest went inside to eat something and to put in the cathedral library the books that he brought with him.

In the large kitchen were all the monks chatting and the two cooks were finishing the dinner.

-"Bege-ya, Jeanbart-ya when will be dinner?" the priest asked smelling the warm food.

-"It's almost ready, sir" answered the short monk.

With that the slender priest sat down at the table with the other monks.

-"And I say it was a ghost!"

-"There's no way! It was just an owl"

-"No! It was a ghost, Penguin and I saw it"

-"Yeah, we're well aware of your two imaginative minds."

-"You should really stop reading that old Bestiary"

-"That book is rotting your minds"

-"That's not true, we saw what we saw, right Sachi?"

-"And what was it?" Asked the priest, making the argument end abruptly and earning shocked stares from the monks. It was really strange for the young priest to be interested in whatever the group was talking. He usually just sat there with a bored look in his face, turning off their talk.

-"I-It was a g-ghost, Trafalgar-sama" said the auburn- haired man.

-"A ghost of a lady with a white dress stained with blood on the chest, as if her neck had been cut"

-"A ghost lady, hm?"

-"Yes sir!" answered both monks.

-"What do you think, sir" asked a bald monk named Ohm, petting his big dog Holy.

-"You should stop reading that Bestiary" grinned Trafalgar.

-"Aww, man" Whined both monks making the rest, except the priest, laugh. He was worried, because he knew that if they saw "her" and live to tell it was because "she" was plotting something.

'Why "she" wants us to think that "she" is a ghost?' Frowned Trafalgar

When the dinner ended, the silver-eyed man decided to took the long way to the library in order to explore and investigate about that "female ghost". He walked below the ribbed vaults of the corridors and peeked into a small chapel.

The chapel hid a complex wooden altarpiece that showed how a demon with a broken chain around his neck attacked a village, tearing, torturing and eating the soul of all citizens. Strangely, in front of the altarpiece were a lit candle and a bench to pray with red velvet cushions. Turning his gaze once more towards the altarpiece he analyzed it more conscientiously.

The scene was terrifyingly real, you could almost smell the raw flesh of people being torn from the bone. You could almost hear the screams of agony of the parents when they saw their children being crushed and devoured in the mouths of the monster, the sickly creaking of the bones being chewed, and the blood ... The priest came closer to the altarpiece to make sure what he was seeing was real. The blood that seemed to be painted on the wood was, in fact, oozing out of it right in the places where there were mutilated bodies or shattered corpses.

But the worst thing was the one that made the priest feel a chill down his spine. The candle was new, there wasn't any melted wax yet. Sensing a cold presence behind him, he turned hastily to the door just in time to see a white cloth fluttering away past the doorway and into the darkness of the corridor. A white cloth like...

'A back of a nightgown?' He exited quickly the room, walking as fast as he could towards his room, forgetting his books in the hellish chapel. He could still feel as if long and cold fingers were reaching for his neck and caressing it. He reached his room almost out of breath and locked the door on the inside, leaning against it wide-eyed and panting. He had been careless. He knew it. "She" was out there. "She" had been by his side. "She" could have killed him with ease. He knew it. It was a game for "her". A sick game that was too dangerous for him. This had been just a warning from "her". The next time he should be prepared if he wanted to keep the other's lives and his own.

To be continued...