Reverend Ridley’s Horror
Reverend Thomas Ridley sheltered from the cold drizzle. The winter’s cold hadn't bothered the Lord's work thirty years earlier, but that was when both his zeal and heart were stronger. Since his heart attack he quit his congregation and now helped the Bishop with special projects. Meeting with prospective buyers for the old church was one.
Pleasantries were brushed aside as the tall white-haired man and ashen-faced woman arrived. They were a reserved, unfriendly pair seemingly in a hurry. They hastily surveyed the building while Reverend Ridley chased after them being solicitous.
When they stopped at the altar, Reverend Ridley felt pain in his arms. He tried to explain through shortened breath but the woman seemed to ignore him and nodded to the man who rushed outside. The Reverend found a seat in the strait-backed chair behind the pulpit and wiped sweat from his florid brow.
The man returned carrying a silver bowl and a scarlet gown. She hooded herself. Her hand dipped in the bowl. On the white wall behind the altar she drew a five-sided pentagram with the bloody fingers as the Reverend sat in wide-eyed shock.
The Reverend stood, No. You can't..."
She reached into the bowl and revealed the dripping severed head of a white goat and hung it on the Crucifix above the altar.
"In God's name, no!" the Reverend begged as he clutched his chest and slumped to his knees.
"We'll take it," she said to the Reverend as his heart beat its last.
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