Judas Priest: Confrontation [Episode 119005]

by KLSymph

Ranma munched on a piece of fruit as he walked down the dirt path to the village. It had been more than a month now, and the end of October. The villagers were getting used to seeing his face, though he still wasn't accepted by any means.

Oh well. As long as nothing bad happened.

Today, he was heading back to more settled, urban civilization, out of the countryside and into the nearby city to cajole some information from the priests at the Shrine of Divine Light.

Not that he would do it in a blatant way, of course. He was, after all, the closest thing to a consistently successful diplomat among all the current field operatives within Iscariot. He'd just chat up whoever was in charge and see if he could finagle some bits and pieces of information and rumor out of them. No big thing.

He might even get an eyewitness account. Not that he was putting out much hope for that. But even bits and pieces were good.

The dirt path cracked under each of his steps.

Oh, that's right, he'd have to remember weed the front yard. Hadn't got around to that in a while.


The expenses were getting worse, now that he had to worry about getting enough fuel for heating as well. Food wasn't such a big problem, if he ate less, and he didn't need any additional clothes or tools. But the regular stipend the archdiocese sent him wasn't covering even the basic amenities beyond semi-reliable food and shelter.

Walking near the town square, he noted a wet sound and a slight pressure on his arm, and absentmindedly wiped some sort of rotten vegetable off his sleeve. Someone was heckling him from across the marketplace, but he didn't pay it any mind, even after the fourth hurled piece of produce.

Kids were kids.

He had to do laundry when he got back anyway.


Too bad he wouldn't be able to find Sister Angela. It'd be nice to see how she was doing after some eleven years. And to show her that the boy she helped had grown up. Maybe next time.

Sitting in a bus for another hour, after walking for four, wasn't his idea of a great time. He'd read his Bible just for something to do, but reading while moving never really agreed with him. So he just gazed out the window of the bus as it slowly winded through the streets Akita City.


"Really? None of them are here?"

Ranma was irritated. Four hour walk down through the countryside, another hour of public transportation, ARGHH!!!

The sounds of the city filled the air as cars went by and people came and went on the shrine grounds. The Shrine of Divine Light was one of the bigger shrines around, and in the province as a whole. So how is it that all the senior priests are out of town that day!?

The shy young miko, no more than fifteen probably, wondered about the odd, but cute boy who had just walked up to the shrine in the middle of the day to ask to see the priests. Specifically, she wondered about the weird faces he was making, until he seemed to settle on a very blank, but oddly still cute, stare into space.

Ranma was irritated. But there wasn't anything he could do about it, so he just had his "I don't even want to think about it anymore" expression on. His entire day has been wasted. Nothing useful had come out of it. This was, as Father Alex would have called it, a day "THAT COULDA BEEN SPENT SCRUBBIN' OUT TH' KITCHEN, BUT THA'S FINE, YOU CAN SPEND ALL NIGHT DOIN' IT, YA FILTHY LITTL' BRAT! NOW GET TO IT!"

Ranma shook that particular image out of his head, startling the shrine maiden who was waving her hand in front of his face. "Well," he asked determinedly, "do you know when they'll be back? I'd like to speak with them."

The girl shrugged. "They'll be back by tomorrow, or so they said. That's all they really told me."

And Ranma knew he couldn't stick around that long. Not if he wanted to get anything done. Sighing, he thanked the miko and started the trip back to the bus station. The miko watched him go with a strangely disappointed expression, which he pretended not to see.

"Hmm... since I'm in here in the city, maybe I should get some shopping done."

He checked his wallet.

"...Okay, guess not."

Then he got hit by a slow moving bus for stepping into traffic without looking, but he wasn't hurt.


Is it going to rain? This was the question on Ranma's mind as he walked back along the country road to the far-away village where he now officially resided. It would really be annoying, he thought, if it were to start raining. He didn't have an umbrella. Oh, why didn't he check the weather that morning? Oh, wait. He didn't have any way to do so. No TV or newspaper delivered to the church. No money sucked.

And it was almost November in the northern provinces too. The wind and the rain would probably be freezing. He really didn't want to get a cold now of all times.

Ranma warily eyed the cloudy afternoon sky. But what could he do? He kept walking.


The village was... empty.

It was as if all the villagers were hiding. A chilly wind blew through the streets as Ranma walked through the market. Everything was still, but the priest felt many eyes watching him as he moved. Eyes hidden behind walls and windows, from people hiding from plain sight. Something was off.

Ranma marched on towards the outskirts of the village towards the forest, carefully studying his surroundings. As he walked, he silently noted the disturbed evening atmosphere. As if something had happened while he was away.

Suspicious, Ranma put aside his thoughts about the village and hurried up the dirt path towards the church. It didn't escape his notice that he wasn't the only one to do so that day; the poor crumbling path was covered with the signs of many, many feet stamped into its surface, signs that weren't there that morning. It only raised his suspicions even higher.

The trees seemed even more foreboding than usual.

Resting his hand on the silver cross through the fabric of the thick trenchcoat he wore, Ranma closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself for what he might find as the church finally came into view.


He opened the double doors, and stepped into a room of wreckage.

"What's going on here!?"

Around him, the pews of his church were smashed and ripped, the walls marked and scratched. The few pieces of miscellaneous furniture were tossed about at random. Before him stood a small group of men from the village, and behind them cowered a number of his flock. He quietly noted the bruised face of the Yamanaka father close by as he walked forward.

"Well, well, if it ain't da priest." One of the less familiar men stepped forward. He seemed to have been smashing apart the pulpit with what had been a chair. Ranma recognized the man as he got a closer look. A bear of a man, one of the many who tried to make his stay difficult in the village, usually with blustering. "And I thought you'da run off. Hey, boys, check it out!"

The other men looked up from their various ransacking and smirked. "Hah!" one jeered, "So you're around after all? Got guts coming back to this, I'll give ya that."

"Why are you here?" Ranma asked, outwardly calm. "I thought you all would be the last to ever go to church."

The looks on the men's faces turned uglier. "You getting smart with us, boy!?" another called out, "We ain't here for yer religion! We came here to get-"

"SHUT UP!"

The first man snarled at his compatriot, before turning back to Ranma. "That's no business of yours, boy. Anyway, we're done for the day. We'll just leave ya to clean yer house, oh Holy One." He stepped toward the door behind Ranma, angling to move around him.

"Hold it." Ranma, glaring, stepped straight into his path. "Tell me why you came here, and why you've desecrated my church."

The man glared, then gestured toward his companions. They started forward, surrounding the priest.

"Oh, so ya want to know, ya brat!? Don't ya know what they say 'bout ignorance bein' bliss and all that?"

"I want an answer," Ranma replied simply.

"An answer, is that it?" One of the others laughed out loud. "We're just your ordinary average people on an ordinary average evening walk, boy! What's it to you?"

"And you came here? Why?"

"We ain't here for you," The first man sneered. "Or yer church. We're just here to do some vermin exterminating. Nothing to do with you at all. Just shut up and let it go, boy."

Yamanaka tried to catch Ranma's eye, shaking his head slowly. Ranma ignored him.

"Exterminating? You mean exterminating the 'beast' that you've all been searching for."

The man stared. And then practically exploded. "Didn't I warn you Bible thumpin' freaks to keep that to yerselves, eh!? Was it you who told 'im, Yamanaka!?" he turned and bellowed. "I told you to keep your mouth shut, worthless bastard!"

One of the other men reached over and hauled Yamanaka to his feet by the collar. Ranma immediately started, and turned toward them with a word on his lips. A meaty hand grabbed his shoulder, turning him back.

*BAM*

Ranma's body all but flew straight into the broken remains of the pews behind him.

The man flexed his hand a bit. "And you can stay down, priest," he spat. "Boys! There's nothing but trash in this place. Let's go home."

Yamanaka was dropped unceremoniously back onto the ground. The rest of the men turned and left, grumbling.

One bothered to kick the fallen priest the ribs before going on his way.

A dead silence fell as the double doors slammed shut.

"Are you alright, Father?"

Ranma stood up, his back to his flock. He rubbed at his eyes, and his hand came back wet. "I'm fine, Yamanaka-san. You all go home, I'll clean this up."

One of the parishioners stepped toward him. "Father, you're hurt! We'll help you-"

"No!"

They all flinched back.

"It'll rain soon, and none of you brought umbrellas," he continued without turning around. "Don't worry about me. I have some umbrellas in the coat closet there. Take them, and get on home. It's Monday, and you all have work to do tomorrow."

The parishioners all murmured their agreement, and left.


"He was crying. I saw it."

"Yeah, it's not easy for someone that young. I guess I can't blame him."

"If only we could do something, but...."

"But there's nothing we can do, but pray."

"Poor kid."


Ranma sat quietly on one of the few remaining untouched pews. He wiped his eyes with a handkerchief. It too came back wet.

Somewhere, a clock sounded midnight. Outside, the sound of pouring rain came into the hall. Inside, the light were off, and only a few candles faintly lit the room, casting more shadows than they pushed away.

With a huff, he stood, and started fixing things.


A figure hid in the dark corner of the nave.

It was confused.

The men from the village had come to the church, agitated and angry. The others, parishioners that came here often, came too, trying to defuse the situation.

Its fault. It knew it shouldn't have come close to the village, but the cold winter, its first spent in the area, had left it lacking for food that it could forage. And it had to get something to eat.

And the villagers saw it. Found it. It had to flee again.

The villagers couldn't follow, of course. It was too quick for them. It fled into the woods toward the church, but they somehow knew that it would come back to this church for shelter. Or perhaps they just guessed? What did it matter? It fled the church as soon as they came.

The villagers were only afraid. They came here to find a monster. When there wasn't one to find, they let their fear control them, lashing out at those around them. They damaged the church, and hurt the few parishioners that tried to stop them.

It found out when it came back to escape the freezing rain.

It didn't want that to happen.

But happened it did.

And it was still hungry.

Too bad, really. It liked this place. It was quiet, and warm.

It couldn't stay here, though. Not with those from the village searching for it. It'd have to find somewhere else to spend the cold nights. And so it headed off to the section of flooring that held its bed-things. It would take them and find shelter elsewhere. Elsewhere far away.

It opened the hidden compartment under the pew, and found it empty.

And then, a hand fell onto its shoulder.

It jumped up with a strangled gasp, blood freezing in panic, and whirled around to look a particular boy priest, still dressed in his battered garb, face newly washed, and carrying a bundle of white cloth, in the eye.

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(Posted Sat, 04 Dec 2004 07:36)


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