Page 15 of Thots and Prayers

“What about you? Aren’t you sworn to celibacy?”

I frowned. “I am. But that was my choice. I... promised god,” I hesitated, trying to remember if that was correct. Was that what Catholic priests did? He nodded, so I must have gotten it right. “You made no such promise. Mitch, I want to help you in this.”

“Help me...” He looked around, eyes wide with fear, and leaned in to whisper. “Have sex?”

“Oh yes. I want this whole town to embrace a lifestyle less like Sodom, don’t you think? No more judgment, more compassion, and understanding our human urges.”

“Yes.” Mitch’s eyes grew glossy. “I would like a town less like Sodom.” He stood and went around to his desk. “I can help you get some wine, Father.”

“Good, thank you, child,” I said softly. I stood and took him my empty cup. “And once the wine is secured, we can work on the next thing.”

Mitch’s face went stark and he began to stutter.

“The… the—you mean...”

“Sex. I want to help you find someone to have sex with. Is there a woman who was at church last night you might be interested in? I can talk to her today.”

Mitch chuckled and looked down at the floor. “I mean, I guess, but I doubt she’s a virgin.”

“I thought we talked about this.” I clicked my tongue. “Virginity is just a construct created by Sodomites.” Fuck, if there was a hell, I was definitely going to it. Not for all the murders I’d committed in Shelley Vale or the other places, but for what I was about to do to this town.

“It was?” Mitch’s eyes lit up with hope. Sure, buddy. If that helped you sleep better.

“Yes, child. Now, which woman do you want to have intercourse with?”

“Well, uh—” He reached around and rubbed his neck. “If I get to just choose, I mean, I don’t even know if she’s available. She sure is pretty though, I just don’t know if?—”

“Who is it?” I demanded, startling him.

“Domino!”

RULE 9 - KANSAS

DON’T TRUST A MAN OF FAITH WHO WANTS TO GET KIDS ALONE.

“He said Domino. That’s you!” Constantine laughed. “What do you expect me to do?”

Eisley groaned and threw a motel pillow in his general direction. “Stop!” she whined. “He’s weird. The whole mother thing? Are we even sure he has one? I haven’t seen her.”

It’d been almost a week since we’d broken down in fucking Ricefield and the mechanic was dragging his fucking feet fixing Constantine’s car. Eisley and I were ready to go, but Constantine was having way too much fun fucking with the townspeople.

“She exists. If you came to church sometime, you’d see.” Constantine clicked his tongue and reached for his glass of whiskey. It looked a little odd, him in uniform, his hair brushed to the side instead of back, drinking liquor. He’d fully embraced the role of corrupt priest. Now that he had his own room, he spent his nights alone, huddled over the table in there, piecing together fucked up sermons to shout at the townspeople.

It was like Satan himself had stepped into town.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Here, in the privacy of our rooms, he was normal. He was the same Constantine we knew and loved, but the moment he opened that door, he put on an entirely different mask; it was far more scary than fucking Ghostface.

“Anyways, I’ve been teasing him, but I think I’m going to break the news today that you’re uninterested.” He sipped his drink and eyed Eisley.

“Thanks,” she replied sarcastically. “That was cruel. He’s odd, but that’s not nice to play with his emotions.”

“The only emotion that man is feeling toward you is lust. I’ll find another pussy for him to stick his virgin cock into. We’ve been using wine for communion, and they’ve seemed to finally come around. Tonight, I’m going to add a little extra oomph to it.” He finished his drink and poured another. He was drinking more than usual, but so were Eisley and I. We didn’t have anything to entertain us. He had no excuse.

“What are you thinking?” Eisley stood from the bed and frowned. “Don’t kill them.”

“If we stay another two weeks, we’ll have no choice,” I reminded them. Part of the ritual that made us immortal was vowing in an unknown language to the Reanimator that we’d give him blood when he requested. That request came in the form of an uncontrollable urge once a month. The feeling wouldn’t stop until we each killed someone. It was easy to do while on the road but in a small town like this? Three deaths so suddenly would be suspicious.

“We won’t be here that long,” Constantine assured us. “Another week, maybe. Just let me corrupt a few of them. Please?” He pouted and clasped his hands together. “Just a few of them.”

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