Denial , futile

Collar upturned and raindrops spilling from the long trenchcoat , the weary figure of Inspector Jim Murphy entered the archway to the chapel and stopped inside the doorway.The storm was relentless but a fitting canvas for the storm to come. Nevertheless , he was patient and respectful to the slim , elderley figure kneeling at the altar. Whispering in prayer, 'In nomine padre , et figli et spiritu sanctu , Amen', Father Brendan O'Halloran opened his eyes , rose stiffly from his knees and turned briskly , smiling ''Inspector Murphy , what a pleasant surprise.'

Jim hesitated , the manila folder gripped in his right hand , trembling slightly. 'For Heaven's sake , Inspector , take a load off , you look like you bear all the world's burdens,' the priest said as he gestured to the pews , a warm smile spreading across his face.

Jim slumped onto the bench and the priest continued ,'When was your last confession , Inspector?'

'I ....... dont know ........ look , I really don't have time'

'"My grace is all you need , for my power is the greatest when you are weak" , Corinthians 12:9 , Inspector. It's important to find strength and courage in difficult times'.

'Look , I wouldn't come here unless I had absolutely no choice , Father,'

The priest looked down at his feet , nodded understanding , then looked up and said ,'He who follows Me shall not walk in darkness , but have the light of life'

'ENOUGH!' , shouted the Inspector ,'I'm not here for your sermons , I'd NEVER seek your confidence after what you did!'

'Inspector , really , everything I did was in the service of the Lord'

'The sexual abuse of young boys! When was that EVER in the service of God!'

'I answer to a higher power , and I am pure in my heart that what I did , I did for love.'

'Really? Despite your current predicament? Despite you current environment? You are remanded at Her Majesty's pleasure for good reason!'

The priest raised his left hand in submission , a small gesture as his wrists were shackled together by manacles when he was allowed to attend the prison chapel.

'Take a seat , Father , you are going to need it.'

The old man looked at the pew beside the Inspector , raised his eyebrows , and sat down next to his troubled visitor. 'What is the purpose in this , then? More false claims , more lambs straying from the flock?'

'Last night , Father's Feargal O'Callaghan and Francis Kane were murdered. Their bodies were arranged in their respective churches , upside down at the altar , blood drained from them all over the floor,' Jim pulled two photographs from the folder and handed them to the priest , who froze , his mouth trembling as he looked down at them , his eyes bulging , fear etched across his face. Suddenly , a thunder clap roared , and each man shuddered involuntarily looking to the window. Father O'Halloran's gaze returned to the photographs. Each priest lay in a dark pool of blood , hands crossed the chest. But it was the faces ,the drawn pain across their bruised and pulverised cheeks , swollen and discoloured , mouths hanging open , teeth missing or broken and as Father O'Halloran looked at a close up , at the ragged concave wound where the windpipe had been torn from both men , he let out a helpless whimper and dropped the terrifying images.

Murphy , shuffling the photographs together on the floor , stood up and the priest turned away from him now , crouching, lightly sobbing ," I didn't ............I only meant to......'

'This is you , Father , this is all you. You , O'Callaghan , Kane , you were all at St Jude's. You were all sinners.'

'You think this is from the boys home?? That was years ago , we were tried and sentenced for that. O'Callaghan and Kane betrayed me that day , saving themselves.'

'I went back in the case , O'Callaghan and Kane groomed , you did the deed , correct?'

'They were my boys , I loved them all........'

Impatiently now 'I went through the register , for the three years you were there , 71 boys , 45 still alive , but broken , drug addicted or institutionalised. No-one fits this , Father. Father , he beat them to death with his hands..........the bite wounds at the throats , the missing windpipes.............the words on the floor.......who could possibly have done this??''

'Words?' Father O'Halloran mumbled as his face turned toward the detective. ' What words?'

The Inspector showed the two main shots again and there on the floor , smeared in blood next to Kane , unmistakeably - 'F E A R' , and then O'Callaghan ' L I E S' , and then the priest slid off the seat on to the floor , curling up , hugging his knees to his chest , his whimpers echoed in the hollow chapel as the storm raged and the cacophony of thunder intensified.

'What is it , Father , what does it mean?'

'The Hounds of Hell!''

   'What do you mean?'

   The old man mumbled , straining to remember , the black haired boy , the blackest eyes , contempt and revulsion in his scorned face. Leather belts , chains and half empty whisky bottles were arranged on the table. ,'If you won't obey the Lord , I have a punishment for ye ,boy' , the priest remembered his own voice from long ago. He remembered an open handed slap across the boys jaw , the boy lunging at him in anger , grabbing the priest's wrists , biting down on the outside of the priest's hand. Blood drawn now , rage boiling , the priest reached for the table of punishment straps and chains for the first thing he could lay his hand on. He grabbed the cold object and swung , catching the boy squarely in his mouth and small white chips and blood sprayed as he collapsed backwards on to the floor , his eyes rolling , stunned. The priest let the wrench drop to the ground , startled at his overreaction as Kane whisked into the room and checked the child's condition. The dazed boy stirred and moaned as his mouth gurgled , bleeding.

The huddled priest returned to his conscious state and said,' The Hounds of Hell were a three headed dog , a sentry to the Underworld. Each head represented fear , lies .........and hatred. The boy read about it feverishly , young boys and their monsters, I suppose.' The Inspector raised an eyebrow at the irony.

'But the boy.......... had no teeth left......... after that night , they were removed , for his and our safety,' he lied easily , 'He couldn't possibly have caused those wounds.'

'Forensics have confirmed the bites were canine wounds but it was definitely a human attack , saliva samples were human but unidentified. Father , think! Please , I need a name.....'

'I ....... he left not long after that night , disappeared to the street. His name now........Hore......no............Horan , his name was Michael Horan. I'm quite sure,' the priest sighed , relieved he'd been able to provide something useful. 

Murphy dialed the station to arrange a warrant as he called 'Guard!' to have the priest returned to his cell. He stared fiercely at the priest , now kneeling sullenly on the floor. Faith really was a power but could be corrupted by the base of human nature.

The tall guard strode slowly along the long corridor , the priest shuffling alongside him. A maintenance tech had just removed a fluorescent tube from a ceiling fitting outside the priests cell and began to climb down the aluminium ladder. The guard unlocked the cell door and ushered the priest in as the tech , behind him now , said ,'Signature?' As the guard turned to oblige , the tech broke the light tube off the ladder step and rammed the broken piece deep into the guard's throat , turning it deeper as the guards arms flailed and he sank to his knees , wheezing , blood gushing in an arc.

The long haired figure stepped over the collapsing guard as the priest began to clutch for his crucifix , his back to the wall of the darkened cell. 'I...........I...........Michael...........please....... no.........I didn't mean'

   Lightning struck , illuminating the cell as the Hound of Hell raised his face and snarled at the trembling pastor , two perfect rows of canine teeth , streaked red and salivating. Baleful yellow     eyes looked down on him as the figure growled,' I have come to take you home now , Father' . As he strode across the cell , his long black hair and beard were like an predator's mane ,          Michael caught a brief reflection of his jaws opening in the priest's cross as his hand closed over the old man's forehead.

Less than a minute later as the priest's body hung backwards from the bed , blood spreading across the linoleum cell floor , Michael traced a vertical line on it and joined the two ends with a semicircle. He rose slowly and as he was turning revealed the word on the floor , one letter at a time - H- A -T - R - E - D.