sHe: THE RISE OF THE NEW BREEDS [Book 1]

Chapter 20

THE MUSCULAR FLAMETHROWER WOMAN paced around the Cathedral altar — and she detected the three dead, executed nuns — and, also an Elite-force SWAT member with an axe jutting out of in her helmet. She turned and burned a row of pews ahead — and she challenged the hiding boy with a mockery...

"Every little boy loves to play with fire. So, where are you, you little punk-ass? Come out, come out now — and come play with me!"

The female Elite-cop sauntered around, and her eyes ferreted for any movement. Doran proceeded by moving silently, following her from the back and hid behind a huge pillar. He peeked and spotted the big and tall woman walking towards the vacant confession box.

"Are you saying your confession in there, you ugly shit? I forgive you, my son — with the Baptism of fire."

She flared the confession box interior with a sprit line of flame. The monk-robed Doran now moved closer towards the altar, and he hid beside the corpses of the nuns. His tears were flowing, looking up-close at the sisters who had been brutally murdered. His hand-picked up the chained incense thurible and next, a burning oil lamp that was on top of the bloodstained altar. He discerned the psychotic woman soldier who was laughing to her own jokes while burning another confession box.

Doran then plucked out the axe, from the dead soldier's helmet with a tug — and he disappeared again...

"Come on out, you son of a bitch!"

The frustrated woman called out in expiration. The annoyed Elite member looked up at a statue of a male bearded saint, staring down with sad eyes. "What are you looking at?" She torched the face of the statue.

Hidden behind an opposite pillar, Doran poured the oil from the lamp into the thurible. He peeked again and his eyes followed the woman, torching the pipe organ next — and she was screaming in chagrin, it now echoed in the empty cathedral...

"Where are you, boy-bitch? You can't fuckin' hide forever!"

Doran had the forbearance to gauge her movements and distance — he needed to be very cautious — or else, he would be killed by the fiery immolation if his attack was too soon.

The woman finally heard his voice echoing somewhere near...

"I am behind you!"

She turned quickly and shot a jet of flame in haste, it burned more pews nearby — but the guile Doran was not there.

The Elite-force cop turned her back again — she felt a hard push from behind her, with a clarion 'thonkk' like-sound — it reechoed loudly again, in the quiet Cathedral...

The flamethrower examined over her shoulder, she saw an axe lodged into her metal-tank backpack — causing fuel to seep out and trickle onto the floor where she stood...

"You bastard! Where are you — you fucking ugly monk!!?"

From behind the next pillar, Doran lit the thurible with a candlestick. He divulged his presence serenely out, to the open danger. He gaited towards the flamethrower holding the lit candle in one hand — and in the other was the thurible by its chain...

It was burning like a ball of fire.

"Here I am, woman..."

The soldier made a loud ire cry, she pointed the nozzle of her weapon at Doran, who was advancing sedately towards her. She then triggered a three-foot weak flame that spurted out — it barely touched the approaching boy, with the blazing thurible.

Doran began to gyrate the flaming thurible above his head, like a fiery spiraling lasso — the ensued flamethrower realized what repercussion that was about to come...