To Hell With It

Into the Deep

It was not long before I reached the Catholic church for my interview with Father Johnathan. As I pulled up in my silver Volvo, I noticed that the church was more elaborate than I had thought. It had marble Roman structured columns supporting the triangular outstretched roof over the entrance of the church. There was a grand staircase leading up to the entrance and on each side there were statues of characters from familiar stories I'd heard many times in my childhood, Jesus being the main one. As I paced towards the dark double doors of the church, I felt a strong chilling presence looming around my body, something eerie and frightening. I sucked in my breath and let out a strong heavy sigh to release my anxiety. There was no way in hell some breeze was going to keep me from exposing this money hungry fraud of a priest. I boldly stepped through the doors and was greeted by the echoing sound of my footsteps. The interior was not as extravagant as I expected. Regular wooden pews which were finely polished, beige walls, that silver piece dinner set they always have in the front of the altar and a purple cheerleading banner with Jesus on it.

"Hello, may I help you? Have you come to confess?" I heard a calm and elderly voice project. I quickly turned around and gave my usual plastic smile, something every journalist has. 

"No, actually I'm here for an interview with Father Johnathan, I'm from the Daily Wake-Call and our chief editor had made a request to your administration to use our services to help clear-up any potential misunderstandings associated with his name and the church on the embezzlement allegations." I then showed him my reporters ID card. I laughed mentally because of my true intentions of actually wanting to expose the true nature of his image. The raison-like man, with white hair and grey eyes made a conclusive expression, nodding his head and repeatedly saying "yes, yes, yes...". He called me over to a room which revealed many doors in a 'T' shaped hallway. "The last door on your left is his office, please wait there, he will be with you shortly," The old man said, pointing his finger, "Yes, thank you Father, I'll wait for him. God bless you," I laughed scornfully in my mind as I gave him my plastic smile. His face lit up and he smiled brightly, "Yes child, may he be with you as well...Through everything and anything you may face." He turned in the other direction and left. I furrowed my eyebrows and made a suspicious look. Why did he emphasize those words, as if he was also mocking me? Suddenly, I felt that eerie chill loom around me again. What was that feeling? I opened the door and stepped into Father Johnathan's office.

It was an ordinary looking office, something you'd see in any conventional clerical workplace, except with the overuse of crucifixes and prayer scrolls,  made the place slightly more resembling an office from the TV show "Wizard World". I sat in the chair in front of his desk and took out my writing utensils and recorder. I checked the clock and it was a quarter to one, I hoped for a quick and concise interview to make up for the time I knew I was bound to spend here.

'Tick, toc, tick, toc' the sound of the clock pounded in my ears and it thumped loudly, perhaps engraving a permanent headache. I turned to look at the clock and automatically my right eye began to twitch from annoyance. It's after 2 o'clock, where is that damn priest? My patience wore far too thin and I decided to leave a note, expressing clear disappointment and a rescheduling date. I left the note and exited the room; as I closed the door I saw a tall figure in a white priest’s gown zip across the other hallway. "Father Johnathan?" I asked his name out loud but there was no response. My teeth clenched together and my hands balled into fists. That inconsiderate, narcissistic hack! No wonder I never went to Holy Communion!

I dashed after him trying to refocus my sights on his white robe, gliding around him. I was so engulfed in my fury that I had not realized that it was getting difficult to see clearly because the lights were exceedingly low, almost dark. Father Johnathan made a sharp turn into a library looking room. I stopped and rested my back against the wall then peered into the room to see what he was doing. Father Johnathan was a tall man with short grey hair, fine facial features and pale withered skin. Despite his appearance of looking like a lesser Crypt Keeper, he appeared quite ordinary, except for one thing that truly shook me, his veins. Regardless of his attire, wherein every inch of his body is covered, his veins trailing from his arms to his hands and chest to his neck were all a deep purple hue, and even bulged out dangerously.

A statue of The Virgin Mary holding a tender baby Jesus suddenly began to move, and revealed a secret passage in the wall. Father Johnathan quickly entered and disappeared into the darkness. I stepped into the doorway and stared intently at the pitch black entrance to somewhere unknown. I made a huge gulp and swallowed any trace of fear in my body. I am a journalist, and what makes a darn good one is the hunger for a good story and I for one, am extremely famished. I made a forward movement into the darkness where my entire body was covered in holy shadows.

I heard sounds of people whispering, singing hymns and reciting scriptures from the Old Testament, and then suddenly someone began speaking in tongues. As I paced closer to the noise it became louder and more hypnotic. I stopped after seeing light being shone through an opening in the wall to my right. I slowly stepped forward and peered into a cave-like structured auditorium below, not knowing I was probably witnessing the worst proof of God's existence.