Loving Soul [open]

[Amadore Amadeus]

A LOVING SOUL IN THIS HAUNTED PLACE

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HOPEFULLY WILL RAISE ONE'S HOPES

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Amadero was a loving person. He loved everyone, with no exception. Even those who harmed him or tried to. He was someone that even after he had been dragged down to hell, would raise once more and keep on smiling, caring and being himself, nursing all sick and injured people.

The Italian, twenty-four years old, had probably more experience of life than most people of his age and had seen at least as much pain as a martyr from a very young age on. Having been born in a Mafia did such things to you. Having been taught to kill in his family, he had decided to learn how to heal and soothe pain, trying to save lives, be them good or bad.

And, even though he knew he would go to hell one day for saving those who were against God, he didn't want to stop still. After all, hadn't Jesus saved so many who weren't good people, like the man who had been dying next to him? Or the woman who had begged him to heal his daughter even though she hadn't been a Jew? Both people were saved, he had been told. So, she supposed maybe in his small, little and dreamer mind that the people he healed would be saved one day too.

With a sigh, he opened his doctor's briefcase and saw one of his guns in it, along with some of his salt covered scalpels, not all of them fitting in his jacket. He hated having to use them, especially on children. It was murder, simply and plainly said, something painful that he hated so much. He hated pain.
That was why he nursed even those corrupted kids, children taken over by the devil's will. He didn't believe in the church, having seen many hypocrites in them, as well as bad priests. But he did believe in God and prayed him every day to save the city if it was his will.

Opening the door of his clinic, he leaned against he door opening, his arms crossed over his chest, a smile on his lips. He wondered what for people he would meet today...

[Pater Dominguez]

It's been a sad, long, boring rainy day. The clouds that shrouded the sun for a few days now finally decided to drop the liquid they were holding inside on us. Because of this, the empty streets of Jamestown looked even more deserted and depressed. People were hiding from bad weather and bad fortune alike, there was not a single soul outside... Save for one...

And that one was slowly walking down the street. A rather tall, dark-clad figure, a black umbrella above his head. A priest - only they were wearing such kind of clothes these days, the classic look was recognizable from afar. There was something odd about the priest though - one would not be able to put a finger on it... Maybe it were the sunglasses, even if there was no sun outside...

Cross had one really busy morning today. In fact, he was busy ever since he came around here a week ago. He knew there was no time to be lost, and worked zealously. A meeting with the sheriff, the local authorities, other priests, developing and coordinating the strategy for this town to follow in order to stand up to the growing demonic threat. The exorcist knew better than anyone that getting rid of infestation on such a scale would not be the job of only "men in black", as they were called by the common folk, but a significant effort of each and every one involved. He spent this day establishing these connections...

And was tired. Very tired. He'd rather go right now back to the church for an hour or two of sleeping. Faith alone and dedication to work cannot sustain a weary body for too long - eventually the organism will demand rest. This was hard to tell from the outside though - from there the priest looked, well... average. Only the face longer than usual perhaps...

And in the meanwhile, the weather was suddenly changing for the worst. From lazy dropping of water from the gray sky it was soon becoming something akin of a storm. The clouds darkened, strong wind began blowing, making the droplets slam into the priest's face. A sudden gust managed to tear the umbrella out of Cross's hands, carrying it away and leaving him defenseless against becoming soggy.

- Just my luck... - he said wearily as he looked around for some kind of shelter against the incoming storm. Somewhere to wait for it to pass... He didn't want to catch a cold or anything... And soon enough his eyes pinpointed one - an opened door to a place with a cross. Only it was not a church, but a hospital. Whoever opened the door should close it to prevent the water from coming...

Holding the hat with his hand, the rather soggy priest by now approached the entrance, hoping to seek refuge inside, but as he soon found out, there was someone in the doorway, blocking the way. Yet another knew person, but there was no time for remembering anything, the cold wind was blowing in his back. Cross shuttered a bit. And then he remembered. The person in front owned the clinic.

- Would you allow me take shelter within these walls until the storm passes, kind sir? - Cross inquired, though it was more of a politeness question since he probably knew the answer, and wanted to be allowed inside from the storm...

[Amadore Amadeus]

A LOVING SOUL IN THIS HAUNTED PLACE

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HOPEFULLY WILL RAISE ONE'S HOPES

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The rain was always a factor that helped Amadero's mind to find some peace. He liked listening to the sound of the melody created by the drops of water that fell on the many materials that were to be found in town. Having a sort of a roof above his door that kept his dry, he took his time to observe the sky crying and blessing them with the liquid they desperately needed to keep on living.
It was also a sign for him that told the small place that God hadn't completely forgotten about them and that He was still watching over them. Hopefully to stop the madness in time and to punish those who are letting the devil control them.

Before he had gone home, he had seen some people. The Sherrif, some priests, of one of them had looked quite intimidating. But since Amadera rarely had anything to do with other people, except as doctor and as shunned person because he made no distinction between enemy and friend, he hadn't tried to interact with them and simply went on his way.
The priests made him think about how he had wanted to be one too in his time, before he settled to become a doctor, mafia originating people being refused from the Vatican. Well, now that he thought about it, he thought that he had done well, not trusting the church anymore because of the frequent lies and unanswered questions. But he respected those who kept their beliefs firm in the church and didn't judge them. After all, he wished he was so devoted or strong in his own faith.

Suddenly, his golden eyes caught the scary looking priest in the afar, trying to shield himself from the cold water that fell from the heavens. Amadera saw him come closer and couldn't help but feel sorry for the man to have been caught in the bad weather. So, when he heard the question, he gave the man a warm smile and placed his hand on his shoulder, while inviting him inside.
"Of course, Father. Please do feel welcome in my humble house and hospital. Please take your wet coat and shoes off, I shall provide you for dry footwear and a towel for your wet hair."
And on that after a polite nod of the head, he quickly disappeared in the next room, making the priest hear some rummaging for the necessary he had promised to get for him.

[Pater Dominguez]

- Thank you for your kindness, good doctor. - Cross bowed a bit in gratitude as he got invited to wait until the storm passes in this quiet, humble, and, most importantly, dry place. The person, who appeared to be the one running this medical establishment, proved to be a nice guy, for now, hospitably offering him much. The eyes behind those shades focused on the face for a little bit.

Cross met this one for the first time, since he was not from here and was around only for a short time. He did listen about what the people and the sheriff provided about the local inhabitants. The doctor, Cross did not remember his name, was told to be a good and kind-hearted man, and ... not much else known about him. Secretive, muchly.

As the other went to bring a towel and slippers, Cross followed the advice to get the soggy upper black coat off. Indeed, there was water strolling from it like if he fell into a bathtub. It needed drying. As the priest took it off, the bright white shirt underneath was revealed. That stereotypical collar was that of a shirt, not just sewed on to the coat. The shoes went off as well - they were not exactly suited for puddle-swimming.

The towel to dry the hair was unnecessary though, underneath that hat, which went to a dryer as well, Cross was ... well, completely bald. Without parts of his attire he looked a completely different man - a bald guy in his thirties, white shirt, black pants, sunglasses... The only thing he lacked was a tommy gun. But he had other things though.

A bandoleer of cross-shaped throwing knifes across the shoulder, a bottle of holy water strapped to the belt and a bundle of silvery chain-rope across the other shoulder. His inventory much, he kept it all hidden under his coat. The priest sighed, he almost forgot about those. Pretty heavy armaments for a church man, and yet, he was no ordinary church man. Taking the knifes and the rope off, he put them on the bunk, when suddenly...

- AH... AH... AHPCHOO!!!

Oh crap.

[Amadore Amadeus]

A LOVING SOUL IN THIS HAUNTED PLACE

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HOPEFULLY WILL RAISE ONE'S HOPES

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Amadero was a man who cared little about people's appearances. He was an odd one to after all, with his rather unique looks himself. Golden eyes and hair, a cape on his shoulders and a very strict, yet elegant striped suit with black leather shoes, polished till you could see your own reflection in it, like two small mirrors.

Though, even if he doesn't care, he is still able to be surprised about one's appearances. A man that was barely thirty and yet bald was strange. Especially when he seemed to be naturally bald and not shaven. His head was a real cue ball. It only needed to be polished to shine as much as his shoes, he couldn't help but think with humor.
He gave the man a smile as well as the towel and new shoe wear, before he gave him a short gesture to follow him inside.

The place was humble but had everything what it needed. The walls were painted in pastel colors, not only white, giving it some more life as well as a welcoming atmosphere. He hated plain white, seeing it as a torturing color, especially when you are sick. You didn't need bright colors, but having something else than that color of snow avoided you depression. Even the covers weren't in white, but some pastel green or violet.

Amadero guided him to a warm looking living room, with two sofas, a low wooden table, a fireplace in which a low fire was burning. A large clock was standing in a corner of the place, pillows were covering the sofas and some decorations were here and there, mainly a few neo-classic paintings on the wall.
He shoved a few pillows aside to make place for the priest and added some wood to the fire.
"Please sit down while I get you some warm herbal tea and clothes."
And on that, he disappeared once again and came back a few minutes later, a tray in his hands filled with a porcelain tea set in the white and blue colors where a pretty good smell came from. He placed it down on the low table and started serving him, giving him the first cup.

"I'm sorry I can't offer you sugar. I don't have any in house anymore." he said apologetically. "And I am really rude, aren't I? I didn't even present myself. My name is Amadore Amadeus. I'm the local doctor and surgeon. Honored to meet you, Father."
He had presented himself while using his usual calm and soft tone of voice while giving him a kind smile. He was always like that. And for all he knew, he could have invited an enemy inside of his house and still have acted like a courteous person. He was kind and naif like that.

[Pater Dominguez]

Well, this visit here certainly felt nicer than originally expected, Cross could say that much. He certainly did not expect to be cared for so much when simply looking for a place to hide from the storm. A cup of tea and warm slippers were most appreciated to counter the incoming apchoo-ing the priest seemed to have gotten from his little trip under the showering cold rain...

He simply sat in the waiting room in the meanwhile, the welcoming host being busy with fixing said tea. This room ... it was nice too. Such good, calming colors, and a darkened atmosphere because of the rain and clouds outside - it needed not that artificial lamplight. It was just fine the way it was. A house and a hospital ... much nicer than the room church offered him at any rate. Not that he sought comfort - such earthly things were irrelevant to him. But still it didn't mean he couldn't appreciate any.

- It is alright, I haven't introduced myself, now have I? - he chuckled a bit as he received his cup of tea. Sugar or no, didn't matter for him, the priest was able to appreciate uniqueness of both variations of same drink. Carefully, he took a sip. Hmm, too hot for his tongue. Will have to wait a little bit for it to cool off.

- They call me Cross, and its an honor to meet you as well, doctor. I am not a local to this town. Was sent here by authorities of our Church due to ... recent activities that took place here... - he said after a small introduction...

Meanwhile the pouring rain and storm were only getting stronger. The darkened clouds became almost black, from grayish calmant ones they have been, as roads were becoming rivers from all that amount of water. The room, not being lit by anything, darkened with it, the only things not being obscured by shadow being white things, which seemed to radiate light, speaking metaphorically of course.

The priest stood up from the sofa, holding the cup in his hands, as he had approached the window. It didn't look like the storm would be over soon. A lightning struck, casting a beam of light and a lot of strange and obscure shadows for a little moment into the dark room. Cross blew into his cup a bit to make the tea less hot, and took a sip. This storm... it was not God-sent. It was a warning...

- Tell me, Amadeus... What have you heard about the children of the corn?

[Amadore Amadeus]

A LOVING SOUL IN THIS HAUNTED PLACE

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HOPEFULLY WILL RAISE ONE'S HOPES

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Amadore was pleased to see his guest relax in his living room. The man had visibly let his muscles loosen up and see him actually have some sort of calm expression on his face, one that he lacked earlier. It also put him more at ease, not being very capable of having a conversation with overly serious people.
He wondered how the man interacted with his colleagues. Was he as nice and polite as he was now? Most likely, he was a priest after all and priests were supposed to follow Jesus Christ's image, no? Like, being kind, patient, warm, ready to help...Well, in any case, the blond was quite grateful to have a good treatment in return for his hospitality.

He noticed he had served the tea too hot once more. He would have to watch out for that, since he always forgot he liked to drink it on a higher temperature than most people. He smacked himself innerly and made a mental not to do it better next time...if there would be any. His tea reserve was fairly low and the herbs in his garden had some troubles to grow lately. Ah well, he would have to read his old books about plants and agriculture he had somewhere in his attic. Grandfather's tricks were always handy when in precarious situations.

He listened patiently to his guest's introduction, standing next to the fireplace, watching him, leaning lazily against it, his smile still on his lips, genuinely interested in his words.
He didn't pay attention to the storm outside. His house was sturdy and the windows solid. They would need more than a simple storm to make it break or disturb the peace of the house. Also, the italian liked storms, seeing them as one of nature's beauties, even if it was a fairly dangerous one. He loved watching the lightning strike down in blue, white or red lines in the sky while hearing the wind howl over the lands. He had grown up in such weather after all when he was a child, living first in Bologne and then for a few years in Sicily.
For him, a storm, was nor a warning, nor a sign of God. It was simply a phenomena of the wonderful nature that had been given to the humans on this earth.

"That would be the name of those children who have been gifted with supernatural powers and who are turned against the adults, right? Rumors say that they are devoted to Satan himself as I heard from my patients, be them the citizens...or the children themselves."
He watched the man standing up, walk to the window and stand there, his contours taking some sort of strange appearance with the lightning that had struck once more. Amadeus' smile disappeared for a moment and his eyes turned serious. He knew he would be seen as suspicious and most likely accused to be working with the Devil himself. Which he would deny calmly, of course.
"I am a doctor. It is my duty to save lives."

A chuckle escaped his lips. He was already defending himself, wasn't he? And it wasn't even the whole reason he stated there. He was incapable of hating anyone, of mistrusting anyone or to even kill or harm anyone. It was horrible for a mafia member who was supposed to be a leader somewhere out there in Italy.
Aaaah...He was really a naive person, wasn't he?
"My family would call me stupid as well: I am incapable of harming anyone, even when my life is in danger. I have weapons, but I don't remember the last time since I used them. It is as if the Children of Corn aren't seeking my death just yet..."

[Pater Dominguez]

Road to hell is paved with good intentions...[/i] - Cross had made an conclusion in his mind, as the doctor, completely unexpectedly, told ... quite a bit more than the priest was expected to hear... Quite a bit. In a way, it felt like the man was ... confessing to him? Yes, that seemed to be the case. Many a common folk confused all priests for confessioners, a common mistake, and he often had to listen to what other people tend to confess to him. Never hurt anyone to listen, did it?

Cross was able to mask his amazement very well as he turned around, his lenses reflecting the random beam of light, as he looked upon Amadeus once more. Was he angry? Or did he approve the actions which one would surely consider ... treasonous? The answer was ... neither. Because, in exorcist's opinion, that ... did not do anything good, or bad. Save a possessed one from a wound, or let him or her die ... it was basically the same. Which one of them was a lesser evil? Depends on your view. But in truth...

- Tell me, doctor, do you believe in God? - a sudden question came, and silence after it. He gave the other man a moment or two to think, before continuing: - Because if you believe in God, you have to believe in the Devil also... - Cross silenced once more. He did not believe in the devil. He knew it existed. And the doctor would know too, if he'd get to see...

- You know, you and I are much alike. We both dedicate our lives to healing and saving something. That in mind, I also can me called a doctor, speaking metaphorically of course... - he said, taking a sip of his tea. It managed to cool off by now. - Because I am not a priest in a way people commonly imagine. I do not hold a mass, I do not run a church, I couldn't care less about interpretations of the Bible. But I am here to do a job. You heal bodies, doctor. These withering vessels that die of age, or sickness. I, on the other hand, am healing and purifying souls. - he ended, and the tea in his cup ended as well. There wasn't much there at any rate. Another lightning struck, casting another ominous shadow from the priest.

- Tell me Amadeus, what do you think you accomplish by treating those who are possessed by the Devil?

[Amadore Amadeus]

A LOVING SOUL IN THIS HAUNTED PLACE

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HOPEFULLY WILL RAISE ONE'S HOPES

[/center]

The doctor was a man who believed in God as well in Satan. Believing in one and denying the other would be impossible because the facts were clear for him: the one was the one who had put in question God's legitimacy to reign over all beings, the other was the accused one and who told humans to watch their actions so that he "could reply to the one who provoked him", as it was written in one of the proverbs in the Bible, as he had read recently.
As for "seeing" the devil or admire it...he certainly did in a certain way. The corrupted world in which he had been risen had been proof enough that Evil existed and roamed over the earth to cause disrupt and pain. As for the admiration he had, it was a mere conclusion that Satan was very powerful and could make bad things look good and good things look bad. And also confuse people on knowing what was originally what.

He did understand the whole speech the man had given him. But it also quite shocked him as well as caught him off guard. A priest that didn't care about the interpretation of the Bible? Wasn't the sole meaning of being a priest to explain the 'impenetrable ways of God' like the Church liked to call it? Didn't you heal and purify souls while using the words of God? Wasn't it the same as using the Devil's own powers to eradicate the danger that surrounded and was in those children? It confused him - as well made him wonder what the man did to purify those souls...as well as where he was sending them.
But he kept those words to himself, knowing that they wouldn't seen as proper and more as offensive by the man. Even if he wasn't a normal priest, he was still from the Church and none of the priests he had freely spoken to had taken those words without offense.

The last question was interesting though and Amadore had no problems answering it.
"Please call me Amadore, Father Cross. It sounds strange to hear my last name, which I haven't exactly used for years." - the name was a direct relation to his past, past he didn't wish to hide or break. After all, it would eventually catch up with him once again. "And, even though it sounds conceited, coming from a mere human who's nothing compared to God and his powers, I wish to give them one more chance in life to turn their backs to Satan and join the good side. I might not be able to save their souls but I can give them a longer life where they might meet someone who can."

It was a simple thought coming from a simple human who didn't wish to think any deeper into the actual situation in which this city was. He didn't mind being confined, as long they could live off what the earth and sky gave them as resources. Technology was fine, but the Italian wasn't much of a technology lover, merely making use of what was given to him to give better help to his patients. But, he had learned how to use herbal plants and simple remedies to help people - his use of antibiotics, which had only appeared shortly in the medical world, was quite low and of what was left in his hospital was immense. Antiseptics, cotton, gauze and so on, were maybe slowly becoming scarce, but he had found other resources and thanks to some old books he owned, he found products in nature that could replace them. Soap as well was possible to make on your own, as long you had some cow fat.

Sometimes, he wondered why people were crying for all the technology they had lost and were losing. It was replaceable, it could be arranged and life could keep on without being too hard to live. People just needed to be ready to put some effort in it. That was what he thought. And that was also why he didn't wish to kill those children. Because, even if they didn't like it, they were their own future too.
"Those children, even if they are now taken over by the Devil, Father Cross, they are still human. And part of our future. Killing them would break one of the first laws God has asked us to follow - do not kill nor your brother, nor the stranger."

[Pater Dominguez]

Cross' words obviously have left an impact on the doctor, making him protect his own position and his point of view, despite the fact the priest did not even begin to assault them yet, and simply raised a question. This was ... unsureness, it almost felt as if he were trying to justify his actions, not simply state reasons for it... Though it could be both, but it was clear that the doctor was bothered.

As for priest, he did not need to assault anything in the first place. Why? Because the doctor actually made sense, and because his view on the subject was quite similar. And even though he considered his primary goal to be eradication of the demons, he knew that simply killing off children was not a way to go. Hence why he was an exorcist, not a templar. A shadow of a smile appeared on his otherwise immovable face, pale as a stone mask.

- If victory over the Dark Lord could have been won with strength of arms... - he made a pause; - ... Then tanks would have been rolling over plains of Hell already. Sadly, things are not so easy, because the Devil's so much stronger than a man... - he sounded sincerely disappointed about knowing that the evil cannot be defeated with weapons, the idea of armies crushing Hell under their boot obviously had some appeal to him. It was a sad lot for him indeed.

- There are two ways of fighting off the scourge demons bring to this world, the scourge that plagues this city now. The easy one and the hard one. The easy one is to... kill em all. That way the immediate problem is gone. Unfortunately, not for very long. The victim's soul goes to hell along with the demon who captured it, and said demon would later emerge somewhere else to wreak havoc once more. Such a method is used only when the demon infestation is too large and there are not enough qualified professionals around to deal with it. On a large scale in was last used in 16-17 century. - Cross gave a bit of an explanation on how things were working. And the date he referred was relating to the age of the Inquisition. Official history declared them as mindless fanatics, and Church supported it, because it is much easier for the society to not believe they were invaded by demons... It was a rather classified information too. That those who are now viewed as bloodthirsty murderers were in truth the last line of defense... How did Cross know all that? Well...

- Second is a hard and long one. To purify the soul of the taint, and destroy the demon that corrupts it. That was said soul is spared from horrors of hell, and Satan is one servant short. His forces are not innumerable. Each loss hits hits him hard. But it would require a specially-trained priest, an exorcist... Which is why I am here... - Cross made a conclusion under it all for the doctor to understand. All of this was said with a reason of course. Cross was planning to reason with the doctor to get him on his side. From a passive sympathizer to an agent... This could work, he only needed to pull the right lever. And this man's lever was ... mercy, and pity. He only needs to say the right words.

- So, Amadore, as surprising as it may sound to you, you were actually doing the right thing, from any point of view. But healing their bodies to spare their life is not enough to save them. Which is why I have a favor to ask of you. - he made a pause, looking at the doctor attentively, before continuing:

- I want you to treat them, but keep it a secret from anybody, aside from me. From any other priest - my less qualified brethren, sadly, know little more about doing something useful against a demon than drowning them in holy water. Only to me. And while they heal, talk to them, and find out anything they can tell you. And at some point, call me over. So that we both would do our jobs. You save the body, I save the soul. Without soul, the body is nothing but a meat puppet, without body, our victory over the force of darkness would be incomplete...