Father Kane's Final Act

As he walked into the church, Father Kane breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of the candles at the front of the room. He looked around him at the as-yet empty rows of pews and the beautiful stain glass windows glowing, as light streamed through them into the room. He sat in a chair just off the aisle in the front row and closed his eyes to take in the monk's chanting his trainee clergyman had started. He'd heard the same music countless times before, but it never once failed to calm him and bring with it an overwhelming rush of peace.

As he'd expected, his trainee emerged from the side curtain just as he opened his eyes. 

"Hello Father," said Reverend Sanders in greeting as he approached. "Ready for the service?"
Father Kane looked at him as he rose slowly to his feet. He was a young man, yet it seemed to him that he was still just a boy. He was well past his prime. He'd served and led this church for many, many years and he'd done it all alone. But he knew now that the Father above could come for him at any time now and so he had taken on Reverand Sanders in order to train him up to take care of his beloved congregation when he was gone. 

Little was Father Kane aware, the longer the Reverend served alongside him, the more the power that came with being a leader of the Church began to go to his head. Having come from a poor family, Reverand Sanders had never before had as much influence as he had now. Never before had he seen so much money in the collection plate. All for the good of the church though, of course. The money, the influence, the power, it was all music to his ears. There was only one problem. One block. One thing standing in the way of him having it all for himself. Father Kane.

As soon as the Reverand realised the existence and identity of this obstacle, it would seem he was out to get Father Kane at all costs. The Reverend was sneaky though, and it was only ever the two of  them around when Reverand Sanders would 'accidentally' push him or complain about how people could be 'too' good. The marks that followed, Reverend Sanders knew, could easily be explained away as part of the perils of getting older. Father Kane was helpless. It was this fact that the Reverend was counting on, because he knew the old man, couldn't... Wouldn't admit to anyone that he had anything to do with it.

"Curious," said Father Kane thoughtfully, his voice quiet as he circled his trainee clergyman.
"Very curious..."
"What?" Asked Reverand Sanders, blinking.
"You haven't really been feeling quite yourself, have you, Reverend?"
"What do you mean?"
Father Kane didn't bother rephrasing the question in order to get a proper answer. He didn't need to. He knew the answer answer already. "Because you haven't been yourself at all, have you?" The reverend's mouth fell open. "Not since you started here. I met the real you once. Just once, at your interview. That version of you, that unconrupted, uninhabited version of you, has potential. Serious potential, to lead the Parish of St. Vincent's into the next generation. But for that to happen, the evil spirit within you must leave."
With that, a bright red ghostly figure appeared, leaving the now unpossessed Reverend Sanders gasping for breath.
Father Kane looked in turn at the spirit, then his terrified clergyman. He wanted to comfort him, to reassure him, but how could he, when he was so unsure himself? But, just as he was starting to think that he'd unleashed an unnecessary evil in this world, a bright light shone through the stain glass window at the head of the Church building, mysteriously bringing with it the answer Father Kane had been silently praying for.
Moving quickly and wordlessly, Father Kane stepped to his side and grabbed the evil spirit, ignoring the reverend's now gaping mouth as he turned his attention momentarily back to the light streaming in through the stain glass window ahead of them.
"Fear not Reverend," he said, turning to look at the man. "The Lord shall guide you in the path He desires you to follow."
"But Father, what will I do without you?" Asked the Reverend as he realised what would shortly happen.
"You have great knowledge already. Allow the Lord and your Bible to aid you along in your path." At the young man's expression, Father Kane continued. "Great men are forged in fire. It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame. My time is here now. It has been coming awhile. What better way then one final act to serve our Holy Father?"
The reverend nodded, trying his hardest to don a brave face. "Thank you, Father Kane. Lord, our Father, please take Father Kane to live with you in Heaven. Lord, please bless him and be with those here who mourn him," said Reverend Sanders as he watched them go.

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In memory of Sir John Hurt, who brought to life Ollivalander in Harry Potter and The War Doctor in Doctor Who, among many other amazing characters. RIP. 

The Sound of Your Beating Heart

Lying here with you, off in our own little world, the sound of your beating heart is comforting. It grounds me, and it tells me you're still here, alive, with me. It reassures me that I'm not alone. The warmth of your skin against mine, your cute little smile, I love it all, but nothing more than the sound of your beating heart.

I remember long ago, some other world, some other life, when I lay with someone else like this. We were friends too, and we had our own little bubble, our own little world, just like you and I. She let me cry on her shoulder, she let me hold her close whenever I was scared and afraid. Just like you, I loved the feeling of her warm skin, her smile, the sound of her beating heart. Though it was long ago, I remember, clear as day when I lost her. Sudden, unexpected, no chance for goodbyes. I lay with her as I always used to, but it wasn't the same. The warmth had left her, and she wasn't smiling anymore. Her heart was still. The tears that were shed that day could have formed an ocean around us.

That was then, and this is now. Now, I have you. A new friend, a new life. A different world. I'll always have the memories of her, but you and I aren't finished. We're still writing our story. We're still making memories. I fear the same thing that happened to her happening to you. I know one day, it will. It happens to everyone one day, but I hope that with you it will be different. That I'll at least get to say one last goodbye. But for now, you're right here, by my side. The sound of your beating heart reminds me that you're still here. It reassures me, and it helps me not to be so scared anymore.

When the world becomes mad and chaotic, I listen for the sound of your beating heart and retreat into the sanctuary of you and I. The noise, the madness, the chaos, all disappears and I'm left with you. Just you and me, set free from it all in our own little world. The sound of your beating heart is comforting, and it helps me to take a pause and just be, even if it's only for a moment.

As unfortunate as it is, the sad reality is that you can't hide, you can't escape. At least, not forever. At some point, we'll have to emerge from this little bubble of ours. And when we return, to the madness and the chaos of the world beyond, I know your heart will help. The sound of your beating heart will ground me when I may otherwise have quickly become lost among it all. The steadiness of it's rhythm will help me believe that everything will be calm again, sometime soon. Until then, I have you and the sound of your beating heart to help me through.