Goats from Lambs

Chapter 4

Brother Henry casually strolled through the basement hallways of St. Christopher's as he playfully whistled 'O Fortuna' while making his way into the church's kitchen.

Reaching out with both hands, Henry wrenched open the heavy door of the walk-in freezer. Once inside, he took a moment to acclimatize himself to the bone-chilling refrigeration, bundling his robes a little tighter around his neck and rubbing his hands together, while warming them with his breath before going to work.

Henry methodically shifted a couple of boxes of frozen hors d'oeuvres that were being saved for the weekly community bible meeting, to reveal his secret stash of rocky road ice cream, affectionately known as his 'inescapable sin'.

Carefully, Henry removed it from the shelf as though it were the Holy Grail itself, cradling it in his arms as he slammed the freezer door closed behind him.

With newfound purpose, Henry quickly went to the utensil drawer, reaching to the very back, behind the cutlery divider and grabbing his favorite spoon. It looked no different than any other spoon, except for its slightly larger surface area when compared to the rest of its peers; that, and Henry had carved a crude letter 'H' into the handle years ago, just to be sure.

Gripping the spoon with anticipation, Henry removed the container's lid to dig in feverishly. He was in the midst of letting the third spoonful slowly melt over his tongue when he heard Brother Andrew approaching with heavy, yet quickened footsteps.

As Brother Andrew entered the kitchen with urgency, Henry rolled his eyes as he waited for him to catch his breath so he could speak.

The sight of Andrew had always disgusted Henry; to allow one's self to grow to such an enormous size showed a complete lack of discipline or caring for one's self. The robes he wore only amplified his already rotund shape, so much so that it was as if Friar Tuck had emerged from the pages of Robin Hood and now stood before him in all of his heaving, sweaty glory.

"What do you want?" Henry asked in a harsh, judgmental tone.

By now, Andrew had seated himself on a nearby stool and was doubled over as he gasped for air between words, "He... wants to... see you... says it... it's urgent."

Henry took a deep sigh before licking what was left off of his spoon and replacing the lid on the container. Once Henry had finished putting the Rocky Road back in its hiding spot he turned to exit the freezer, suddenly realizing that Brother Andrew had been watching the whole process with what could only be described as gluttonous lust.

Henry promptly grabbed the padlock for the freezer door and fastened it in place, making sure to shoot Andrew a 'don't you fucking dare' look as he placed the key for the padlock in the pocket of his robes. As Andrew looked down at the floor in shame, Henry exited the kitchen and made his way down the hall, shaking his head in disgust.

Moments later, Henry had finished moving the last of the boxes that had been stacked to one side of the basement hallway. Throwing aside the old canvas tarp that had been laid out beneath, Brother Henry pulled on the frayed, burlap rope handle, opening the hidden trap door, before making his way down the narrow, steep staircase, into the church's catacombs.

Near the bottom of the steps, the smell of mildew and rot filled Henry's nostrils, causing him to cover his nose as he grabbed one of the nearby torches from a conical, steel wall mount.

By the light of the torch, Henry carefully made his way over the uneven floors of the winding catacombs, doing his best to keep looking forward and ignore the human skulls and glowing eyes of rats that he knew were on either side of him.

Each of Henry's footsteps echoed down the long, dark corridors, creating synchronicity with the audible drips of moisture falling from the ceiling. It was almost as though their timing was purposely off, so as to honor the twisted nature of the environment.