IMPERIUM DIABOLUS
He paused outside the chapel, the snow streaking past his face on a howling wind. It was weird to see a holy establishment positioned so: nestled against a condominium complex and with a large smokestack rising behind it.
He shielded his face for a moment to admire the speck of moon that gleamed beneath the racing blanket of clouds. It was definitely a reminder that He was watching, even during these troubling times.
He pulled his long jacket in tighter around himself then walked towards the door that had been described to him in detail. “It’s the big wood one with the cross on it,” he had been told. “You can’t miss it.”
They had been right, and as he stepped into the chilly alcove, he removed his gloves and pulled a single key from his pocket. Fumbling slightly, he slid it into the hole in the door and turned it easily to the left. A solid click sounded above the roaring wind and he stepped into the building.
Although the chapel was deserted, lights glowed dimly in sconces along the walls leading up to the barely raised pulpit at the front of the room. It was a modest space, devoid of the usual trappings he was accustomed to. There was no imposing crucifix looming over the room, no stained glass windows lining the walls. The only signs of religion were the small crosses etched into the ends of the ten pews within.
Still this was a holy place and over the past few days, he had read up on the tragic events that had transpired within.
What was it that made a good man go bad? The corruptive essence of the devil was everywhere to be sure, but if anyone had the strength to combat the Imperium Diabolus that often struck the weaker man, it should be a man of the cloth should it not?
There was a mystery here, one that involved three dead people. That was why he had been called. That was why they always called him, He set his case down next to the front row of pews and set to work.
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