The chamber echoed with the long spent cries of broken hearts and searching souls. This told Angela only that the room was large. Beyond that, she knew nothing of it. It was blacker than anywhere she’d been, and the darkness was oppressive. She felt pressed by it, and in the huge chamber, breathed a little heavier. Windows, high above the ground near the ceiling, were dark. The night was gray and starless. The moon struggled to push even one beam through the blanket of pollution and cloud that obscured it, but it could not. The only indication of the windows was a slightly lighter patch of blackness.

            Angie worried. Had she the right address? Of course, she’d checked it at least five times. When she had seen from the outside that the address was a church, she should have gone home immediately and forgot about the one she was supposed to meet. How many stories had she heard about women seduced by men online and falling prey to sick scams and occasionally death? But the darkness currently shrouding Angela’s life was deeper than fear. She had continued. She was brave. She wanted to meet this man. She had a gun in her purse.

            Her hands ran along the rough walls, searching vainly for a light switch. There was no one else here; she would have heard even a mouse in this stillness. Only those eerie echoes were there with her, and she was glad for their company. When her inquisitive fingers could find no switch, she ventured away from the wall, willing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. They did not, not yet.

            “Hello?” She called, probing ahead with one foot so as not to run into anything. The echoes screamed back at her and she decided not to speak anymore. Another step brought her hip into the side of a pew and she bit her lip. Forget it. She thought fiercely, and turned to leave. The hissing of a match filled the room, chasing away the echoes. The room was illuminated suddenly by the light of a lone candle.

            In the daylight, one candle provides little light, but in the darkness, its light spreads and can fill a room. The candle stood near the altar at the center of the church, but whoever had lit it could not be found. The circle of light was strongest near the altar and Angela walked toward it, feeling confidence return. Shadows danced happily on the wall, alternately covering and revealing the large crucifix hanging there. Normally comforting, the icon seemed to writhe and move with the shadows, a cruel mockery of that which gave hope. Angie turned away from it.

            “Don’t be afraid.” A voice reached out of the shadows, light as smoke, and curled around her neck and shoulders, fading away. Angela shivered.

            “Evan?” No wonder she hadn’t seen him. He was dressed in dark, muted colors and was standing at the edge of the brightest part of the light.

            “I am. And you are Angie.” Her name was an affirmation spoken with complete confidence. Her hand closed over the strap of her purse.

            “Nice to meet you,” She said. “But why the church, and at night too? Is there a light switch around here?”

            “I’m sure there is. But I don’t know where.” Evan replied. “And as for why- well, I wanted you to feel safe.” There was a subtle mocking tone in his voice but Angie did not notice it. “And here, we can talk without the least fear of being interrupted.”

            “Yes, I see what you mean,” Angie said taking a step closer to him. “I guess people might be a little weirded if they heard two adults talking seriously about vampires and stuff.” Evan smiled.

            “Exactly. I’m very excited to meet someone who has the same interest I do. It’s quite rare for me.” He said.

            “Oh, me as well. Most people kind of back off when they find out how obsessed I am.” She laughed, but it sounded hollow, bouncing back from the vaulted ceiling. “God, that’s scary,” She commented nervously.

            “I’m fairly certain God doesn’t have much to do with it.” Evan glanced at the crucifix. “I don’t think He’s here right now.”

            “What?” Angie was startled. This seemed like an odd comment. “It’s a church. Of course He’s here.” Suddenly Evan was gone. Angie whirled. He was standing directly behind her. “The light is playing tricks on my eyes,” She said. “Why don’t we go somewhere brighter?”

            “As a vampire researcher, I should think you’d enjoy the dark.”

            “I said I liked to learn about them, not that I am one.” Angie said defensively. Evan was silent in contemplation, and Angie made a leap. “Oh, I see, you think you are a vampire. Ok, time for me to leave. Nice meeting you.” She began walking toward the door, but he was in front of her again.

            “I thought you said you believed?” He said. Angie took a quick step back, startled. She dropped her purse and scrabbled frantically for it. Evan smiled grimly, and if she’d been looking at him she’d have seen and believed. But she was not. “Your gun isn’t going to help you. But I’m not going to hurt you anyway, so stop worrying.” Angie retrieved her purse and stood.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a gun. And I’m not afraid of you. But I have to go.”

            “How can you say you believe, but when confronted, deny your faith?”

            “You talk like it’s a sin. But it’s none of your business. And for your information, I believe in God, that is my faith.” She said, fully intending on continuing out of the church and away from Evan forever. But she found herself waiting for his reply.

            “You believe in a being you’ve never seen…but here I stand in front of you and you deny my existence. I don’t understand.”

            “I know that God exists. He answers prayers and He listens. He has to be there. Something has to be there…” She wavered. His eyes were so deep.

            “He answers prayers? Then what of all these?” Angie was suddenly aware of the echoes again. She looked at Evan in confusion. “These are prayers. They remain here. Faith, concentrated, does indeed fly toward the heavens. But the ceiling is as far as they get, because there is no one beyond it to receive them.” He moved behind Angela in the imperceptible way he had, which Angela blamed on the candlelight. His hands were on her shoulders, and he turned her to face the crucifix.

            “That’s not true. You’re full of lies. If you were a vampire, you wouldn’t even be able to look upon that cross. I don’t believe you.” But she didn’t move away from his touch. He guided her gently back into the bright circle of light near the altar.

            “Why should I not look upon it? It doesn’t mean anything. If it had the force of true faith behind it, or if your God was there, perhaps it would hurt me, but there is no one anymore who believes that strongly. Your God has been dead thousands of years, and you celebrate His death.”

            “We celebrate His rising.” Angie said, almost automatically, years of Catholic schooling coming into play. Evan turned her so she faced him, still holding her shoulders.

            “His rising. What else do you know of that rises from death?” He’d gone too quickly, he knew it the moment the words crossed his lips. Her eyes flashed and she stepped away from him. He let her.

            “What are you, Jehovah’s Witness for evil? Jesus was not a vampire. And I’m not an idiot.”

            “No, of course not.” He decided to use a different approach. “It’s hard to believe in God these days. Do you know how many prayers I’ve heard? Thousands. I listen to their prayers, and I wait to see what happens. They are almost never answered. So sometimes I answer them. It is surprising how many people pray for death when they think no one is listening.”

            “If they think no one is listening, then why do they pray?” Angie demanded, ignoring the comment he’d made about answering prayers.

            “Hope. When Pandora opened the box, humanity thought that the vices escaping, the greed and envy and lust, were the worst part. But hope also came out of that box, and it is the worst thing that has ever happened to the world. I heard your prayer.”

            “This is pointless. I don’t pray.”

            “Who’s lying now? You prayed for someone like you. So I contacted you. Your prayer was answered, but you are not happy.”

            “You’re not God. What right do you have?” Evan could feel his grip on her returning. Angie should have been running now, but she was too intrigued. “How can you say you’re like me? You don’t even know me.”

            “The name Angie means ‘angel’. You’d think if God existed, He’d take better care of His angels, not leave them alone and on the brink of suicide. He wouldn’t take your family, and he wouldn’t take away your best friend. He wouldn’t leave you behind. But you are right. I can’t say I’m like you. It’s not true.” Evan said, watching carefully for Angie’s reaction. Tears stood in her eyes, close to falling.

            “How do you know all that?” Here was the critical point. She could go either way now; believe he was sent from god, believe he was the devil himself. Or she could take him for what he was. “Maybe…maybe you’re like me after all.”

            “No. We’re very different. But we don’t have to be. Oh, don’t cry Angie. You don’t have to cry now.” He took her into his arms and held her as she shuddered. “I know you feel alone in the world, and you were. Not anymore. We can be alone together. We can be the same.”

            “What? I don’t know what you mean. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to get like this.” She sniffled, head still buried in his chest.

            “Look at me, Angie. See what I’m offering you.” She looked up, face red, blinking away tears. She looked fully into his face, and she knew, and she believed. The candle guttered wildly in a sudden draft. The crucifix danced.

            “No. I don’t want to die anymore. No.” She pulled out of his embrace and walked down the long aisle. He walked beside her.

            “It is not death. Nothing is waiting for you out there. There is no one like you. No one will understand you. What I offer is life.” He took her hand and she stopped.

            “No. You’re lying to me. I don’t want to be like you.”

            “Yes you do. Ever since the people around you began dying, you’ve put yourself in increasingly dangerous situations. You agreed to meet a stranger alone on his terms. You’re lying to yourself.” He began drawing her back toward the altar, into the circle of light, through it. They were standing below the cross now. “You have to believe in something.”

            “I believe in you,” Angie whispered. “But…”

            “Angela. How often has doubt stopped you from doing something you should? If you hadn’t doubted, perhaps Cynthia wouldn’t have died in the fire.”

            “I would have gone back. The firemen stopped me.”

            “You could have gone back.”

            “I should have. I…am to blame, I know.” Her defenses were completely gone now. Nothing stood between Evan and her soul. He put his arms around her again and bent slowly, lovingly to her neck.

            “No,” She whispered again. She did not mean it. Evan bit as gently as he could, holding her tightly. At the first pain, she struggled to get away. She tried to move back from him, knocked over the candle in her attempt. She managed to break from Evan’s arms and stood, her hand over the blood seeping from her neck. The candle still burned feebly, the flame hanging on to the wick, endangering the building with its desire to live. Sparkles played before Angela’s eyes, and she looked fearfully at Evan, who was coming closer.

            “Just let me die,” She said, knowing she would be unable to run from him. Weakened, she felt her knees give way and she collapsed. Evan caught her.

            “I promised you life, love.” He said gently. She didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Lowering her to the ground, he held her tightly. His arms were strong, almost comforting. He returned to the wound, and her own arms clutched at him, searching for something to keep her from falling into the darkness, clinging to the anchor that would drag her down. The moon finally won its battle against the clouds and broke through the stained glass windows, dyeing the room red. The candle trembled and went out, drowned in its own wax.