Into The Flames (Sebastian x Reader)

House of God

Looking up at the large, intimidating outline of the church looming before me out of the darkness, two questions immediately came to mind.

"Okay, first off." I started, glancing over at the demon who stood beside me on the church steps with a look of shock and surprise on my face. "What are we doing here? And secondly." I gazed back at the large church doors before us, reaching out to run a finger over the carved wood, depicting scenes of the apostles and Jesus. "Can you even go in here? Like won't you get struck by lightning or something?"

"Please, my lady." Sebastian glanced at me from the corner of his eye, familiar smirk drifting across his lips as he regarded me briefly before turning back to the church. "Most religion is simply made up by desperate leaders eager to get masses to follow and worship them. And trust me. I've met plenty of angels, and I guarantee not one would care if I stepped foot inside this so called 'holy institution.'"

I grinned at him. "So, no lightning."

"No lightning." He reaffirmed, smirk deepening slightly, as he reached out with a gloved hand to push open one of the large wooden doors, swinging inward onto the darkened interior of the chapel on silent hinges.

"Okay." I said softly, something about the silence of the church as we stepped inside subduing my voice. "But you still haven't answered my first question."

"Ah. See." Sebastian walked down the aisle between the rows of empty pews, dress shoes clicking quietly on the tile floor. "I don't have to answer that question, my lady. Because." He had almost reached the front of the chapel, standing before the altar, back to me, before he turned and stepped aside, a curious glint lighting up his eyes, glowing crimson in the darkness. "He'll answer it for you."

As if on cue, a man, dressed in religious robes, long and white, embroidered with gold, obviously the leading pope of the church, came into the room, head bent over a book as he walked, but upon site of the two of us, standing in the empty chapel, watching him, he stopped abruptly, adjusting his glasses with a slightly annoyed look on his face as he addressed us.

"I'm sorry, but the chapel is closed." He shut his book, placing it carefully on the altar, before he stepped toward us once more, hands folding into and disappearing into the sleeves of his robes. "You'll have to come back tomorrow if you wish to worship."

I could feel Sebastian watching me closely as I stared at the man intently, trying to place where I had seen him before, and why Sebastian said he would answer my question for me.

The pope, shifting uncomfortably now under my intense stare, stepped behind the altar, as if for protection, as he cleared his throat and said once more, "As I have said, my children, please come back tomorrow."

And then, suddenly, it clicked.

Yes. He was much older now, and he walked with a slight limp, the lines on his face deeper and more wrinkled, and the blue eyes behind the glasses dimmed, the mouth set more sternly, if possible, than before, but yes.

I knew him. And suddenly, I understood what we were doing here.

"We're not here to worship, father." I let his religious title drop from my lips with a sneer, as I took a step toward him, and his eyes widened slightly at my approach, as I came closer still, resting my hands on the altar, reaching out to play with the pages of his bible, as I asked casually, "Do you remember me?"

His mouth gaped open silently, like a fish out of water, as he watched me, and then he stuttered out, "What are you talking about? Who are you? What do you want?" He grew defensive, backing away from me as I came around the altar toward him.