The day she walked in, Father Lutz's life would never be the same again. Tall, with piercing green eyes and raven-black hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night. She wore a long, flowing black dress that billowed behind her as she moved, and her presence seemed to fill the entire church. Father Lutz could feel a strange energy emanating from her, like the crackling of electricity in the air before a storm.

     At first, the Father thought she was just another lost soul seeking guidance. She sat in the pew, her head bowed in prayer, her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. He could see a desperation in her posture, like the weight of the world was bearing down on her shoulders. In his mind, he knew what was needed in this moment. He approached her slowly, not wanting to startle her, and gently asked if she needed to talk. She looked up at him, and he was struck by the intensity of her gaze. Her eyes seemed to bore into his very soul, to see all his deepest fears and doubts. He felt a shiver run down his spine, but he pushed the feeling aside. This was a child of God in need, and it was his duty to help her, no matter how uneasy or out of place it may make him feel..

     She spoke in a low, husky voice, telling the Father of her troubles and her fears. He listened attentively, offering words of comfort and guidance as best he could. He also offered her water and some crackers and made a joke about Christ's body. She accepted. Father scurried away to fetch the nourishment, and as he got to the pantry area he felt overcome with a sick feeling in his gut. He made a dash to the bathroom and vomited In the commode. It was weird, never had he felt so off around another person entering the house of God, but actually quite the opposite. Tonight he was very unwell though. He brought back the drink and food and slumped back into listening mode, adding in bits of comfort here and there for the suffering woman. They both ate and drank. As the minutes ticked by, Father Lutz began to feel a strange sensation. His head was metaphorically spinning, his thoughts growing cloudy and disjointed. He tried to focus, but it was like trying to grasp a handful of sand - the harder he squeezed, the more it slipped through his fingers.

     The Holy one’s eyes began to roll back into his head and sounds became muffled. He could no longer make out anything she was saying. He also couldn't move. After a few seconds he could hear her laughing. Then there was a whisper in his ear: “Welcome home master”.

     Suddenly, He felt her lips pressed hard against his. They were cold and dry, and he could taste something bitter on her tongue as she forced it into his mouth. He tried to push her away, but his body felt heavy and unresponsive. He was trapped, unable to move or escape. He fell to the aisle, at the feet of the pew. He was able to turn his head just in time to catch a glimpse of her back foot as she stepped out of the 10 foot tall, thick wood doors. They creaked and snapped shut behind her. His vision went blurry again and he passed out this time.

     The next thing he knew, he was waking up on the floor, his head pounding and his mouth dry. The woman was nowhere to be seen, but Father Lutz could still feel the effects of whatever she had drugged him with, or whatever she did. His mind was foggy, his thoughts muddled and unclear. He stumbled to his feet, using the pew to support himself. He made it up just in time for the first church members to start entering for their morning service. The noises and chatter, the door opening and closing, it was all as if a jackhammer were pounding through his ear drums trying to reach his brain. He took off to the back and began vomiting again on the floor. A couple of the church goers followed him back and helped him up and cleaned him. They called in a different Father to carry on with service and told Father Lutz he was in no condition to preach.

    As the days passed, he found himself growing increasingly unwell. He was plagued by vivid nightmares and an unshakeable feeling of dread. He became withdrawn and isolated, unable to face his duties or interact with his flock. He knew he needed help, but he didn't know where to turn. He no longer felt safe in his church and could only think about the mysterious woman. The words she spoke to him

“Welcome home master”...

What did it mean? Did he know her somehow and what was she talking about. 

     More time passed and he stopped taking calls. Stopped going out in town or eating very much for that matter. The last anyone heard was that he would be out for a little while due to medical reasons. With that, in desperation, Father Lutz left his parish and wandered into the wilderness, seeking solitude and a place to heal. But as he walked, he could feel himself changing. His body was growing stronger and more misshapen, his senses becoming more acute. He could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. Then suddenly pausing, then rapidly kicking away again. His breath came in ragged gasps, as if he were panting.

     When he looked down at his hands, and they were no longer the soft, pale flesh he was familiar with, he saw they were large and clawed, the skin a deep, fiery red. He stumbled to a nearby stream and looked at his reflection, and what he saw made his blood run cold. Or could it have been something more evil chilling his blood? He was feeling like he was losing touch with reality as he looked at himself.

     His eyes were no longer human, but the glowing yellow of a beast. His skin was the color of flames, and teeth were pointed and sharp. He was no longer a man of God, but a monster, a creature from the depths of hell. If what he was seeing were true, he looked every bit of the biggest enemy of God he knew of. The Devil.

     Father Lutz let out a scream of rage and terror, and it echoed through the forest. Birds took to flight from their comfy perches, deer bolted in every direction. The wind howled, the leaves cracked. He was alone now, cut off from his fellow man. He was a thing to be feared and avoided, a creature of the night.

     As he walked through the wilderness, he could feel his mind slipping further and further away. He was no longer in control, but a passenger in his own body. He could only watch in horror as he committed unspeakable acts, driven by a hunger and a rage he couldn't understand. He no longer slept, but prowled the woods at night. And one of those nights, a familiar face happened upon him in the woods, for the first time, in what felt like days, he did not have the urge to kill whatever creature was in front of him. 

     She smiled and took his hand, “Everything is ready for you master. I did everything you told me to. They are waiting”.

     They walked forever until they came to an enormous pit in the middle of the forest. As he gazed over the edge, hundreds of hooved creatures, miscreants with wings, and horned, misshapen monsters all looked up towards him and cheered. 

“We are ready for you master!”, She shouted to him over their cheers, “It is finally our time! YOUR time!”.

     Suddenly everything was clear. Father Lutz’s memories were gone. Erased were thoughts of his children being born, or his wedding day, or his first kiss, and in their place were memories of war, memories of torturing souls for many eternities, commanding his servants to carry out unforgivable acts. Torture, cries, sodomy, screams, her. The woman by his side. In her true form, red skinned, winged, yellow eyed, lustful. It was his wife. He remembered it all. 

     Father Lutz was a demon now, a servant of no God. And he knew he would never find peace again. Peace, after all, was not what they were after. With an eager screech, The Devil raised his claw to the sky, and all his followers lept out of that pit. They made their way with haste towards the town. He grinned at his companion, and they both joined in on the march of death that the humans were currently oblivious to. The Sky turned a deep shade of red and lightning crashed across the sky. It was his time.