A/N: This is my novel for this year's NaNoWriMo (2008) - will hopefully finish this year, (I failed last year). Any notes for improvement would be great - love it? hate it? Let me know! Also, the horror element of it will come in around chapter five or so...so yeah. Look out for that. Plus, I'm kind of trying to push the boat out on this, hence the M rating

The heels clip clopped on the stone floor, creating a strange echo that rang around the large, spacious and empty room. The heels were beautiful, expensive, the very best. Of course, she'd have nothing less on her feet – the heels emphasised the beauty of her feet, the jade green strap drawing attention to the pedicure on the deep red nails, the white curve at the tip of each toe perfect. Like the heels she wore, her feet were beautiful and in fact, perfect. Everything about her was perfect. At first glance, most thought they saw an apparition upon seeing her. An angel. But she was no angel. Almost the opposite in fact. The long fingers of her right hand were currently curled around the shoulder strap of a dark green bag, the nails at the end reaching a standard of perfection you would expect, once seeing her feet. Deep red in colour, each long sharp, beautiful. Now, they uncurled and rested on the edge of one of the long wooden pews, the clip clop of her heels coming to an abrupt stop. A crimson smile created by expensive lipstick played at the corners of her mouth, as her fingers – one by one – tapped on the wood.

God how she hated these pews, those uncomfortable seats that made you keep your back straight and numbed your arse. Plus you never knew if the delicate, patterned cushions were for your knees or your buttocks. Did it matter though? No. She thought. No, it doesn't. Of course not. And she had been going through the motions for so long, that she really didn't give a damn anymore.


She now slipped into one of the pews, one deep green eye fixed on the box to the edge, almost completely draped in shadows. Her fingers laced themselves together, and as if repeating a gesture done many times before, her elbows rested on the back of the pew in front, her head bowed, an eye constantly on the box, before her lips began to move in silent prayer.

Silent, non-existent prayer.

After all, what was the point? She had nothing to pray for, and no one would listen anyway. If she really wanted to talk to Him, then she could. Praying did nothing, for her or 99% of the world's population. Oh, she would admit it could make them feel better, but that was it. The truth of the matter was she was all too aware that no one would be listening, least of all the Big Cheese Himself.

She had been there when it had become too overwhelming for Him, when he had turned around and decided that his precious humans only turned to him when they wanted something, but other than that, humanity was screwed. He had all but given up; but they hadn't. They kept fighting amongst themselves, those with power no where near The Almighty's, but power nevertheless.

Now, her attention was drawn by movement in the shadows, by the door of the box opening and a tall man stepping out, brushing dust of his suit as his eyes scanned the pews, coming to a rest on her. She nodded solemnly in greeting, whilst relishing the spark of desire and lust in his dark eyes. She stood slowly, taking her time to move between the pews and towards him. His eyes followed her the whole way, and she knew she would most likely be the topic on his next Confession.

He stepped out of her way, and she bowed her head, ever so slightly, glancing up at him through deep dark eyelashes. She could see him swallow, could see the way her very presence made him feel nervous. Then, suddenly, he turned and strode towards the entrance, making the form of the cross as he went.

She let another smile play on crimson lips, before pulling back the curtain and sliding into the booth.

He lifted his eyes to the roof of the small box, a finger and thumb to the sides of his temples. It was true, he was new to this, but still, that was no reason for the words and rumours flying around. The people of this town, he thought, didn't need saving. He felt he was wasting his time here, with Confession most often along the lines of 'Father, I wished my roses would grow as beautiful as my neighbours'.' Easy, simple confessions that made him weary. Why did Father Cormack send him here? Why not somewhere where they really did need his help?

He took a deep breath as the curtain on the other side was pulled back, catching only a glimpse of fiery red hair, as the woman settled herself down. He could hear her soft breaths, could see her full red lips. Inwardly he cursed himself, mentally praying to God for the strength to resist her.

He made the sign of the cross, watching as her hand moved up, repeating the movements. He waited for her to speak, and when she did, he found her voice to be soft, silky, and seductive without trying to be. Once more he prayed for strength.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned." She paused here, and he saw those beautiful lips turn slightly downwards. "It has been two and a half months since my last confession."

She paused, as if expecting an answer from him. He closed his eyes, trying to get the image of those lips moving perfectly out of his mind. "Go on, my child." My child. It sounded so wrong to call this woman a child, to place the beautiful perfection he could feel radiating through the walls of the box on the same level of innocence. Again a prayer, again a wish that his dreams would not be full of pouting red lips and fiery red hair.

"These are my sins.

Father, I have lustful thoughts. Many dirty, horrible thoughts and I do not know how to rid myself of them."

He was surprised, almost to the point of disgust that his leg was shaking, that it was bouncing up and down as he waited for her to continue.

"I am unable to stop myself, Father," her voice was growing higher, and he could tell she was upset, unnerved and scared "every man I see I...I get these feelings, Father. These feelings in my...oh Father, I do not know what to do."

"My child..." He did not know what else to say, how to make her feel better, to calm her, soothe her...he had only seen glimpses of her, her hair and lips and oh God those lips...

"Father...help me." The words were so pitiful, so painful that he wished he could tear down the wall of the confession box and take her in his arms, hold her, take away the pain...but not those feelings. No. To him, she was a relief, an object that took him momentarily away from the dull confessions of his normal 'flock'.

His silence, it seemed, was too much.

Suddenly, the door to his side opened and there she stood, clutching a jade green bag in heels that he thought he would have heard on the stone cold floor. His hand rested on his knee, willing it to still. Her eyes were wide, wide and innocent but containing an unbridled passion, a desire...lust.


He had been right, she was gorgeous, and his whole body was full of the desire he hadn't felt since his teenage years (in truth, this was only ten years ago, but to him it felt much longer) and he found himself not hating the feeling, but loving it, relishing it as he wanted to do to her.

She stepped towards him, her eyes wide. The bag slipped from her shoulder onto the floor, as she fell to her knees, her head bowed and resting on his lap. Automatically his hands moved to her hair, lacing his fingers into the red strands, teeth biting on his lip.

She allowed herself a secret smile, her hands on his thighs, as she saw it beneath the clothes, knowing how hard he was trying; glad she could break another exterior. She loved Catholicism, the way these people thought that simply by talking He would forgive their sins, unaware that it never mattered, not in the long run.

"Father, I do now know what to do. I want to...oh Father..."

He swallowed, took a deep breath. "There, my child. It's...it's..." He was lost for words, feeling her fingers moving up his thighs, feeling them slipping under, feeling...feeling...

She tilted her head backwards, staring up at him, and he lost himself in those eyes as her mouth found it, as she stared up at him.

He felt more alive now than he had done since becoming a priest.

"Where is she?" Iorwerth whirled around, hands to his head and running a hand through his dark hair, anger flushing his tanned face.

"Calm down." A teenage boy looked up from the beer he was drinking; jet black hair falling lazily over one eye. His shoulders were slumped, his expression clearly one of indifference. "When has she ever let you down Ed?"

Iorwerth cast a glowing look at the teenager, rolling his eyes. "Stop calling me that Harry. You know I hate it."

"Well then you shouldn't have chosen a name I can not pronounce. Lil will be here. Of course she will."

Iorwerth turned, slipping onto a barstool and waving the woman behind the bar over. "Bella! Jack Daniels. Straight. Now."

The dark haired woman behind the bar rolled her eyes, but complied with the order, slipping it onto the bar and towards him. "Lil late again?"

"When is she not?" He replied, taking the tumbler and downing it in one. "She can never just be on time."

"But she turns up with the best stories." Bella leant on one of the pumps, smiling at Iorwerth. "Who do you think she's banging now?"

"I don't want to think about it."

"Tut tut Edward, you shouldn't be so angry. It's not your job."

He turned a pair of cold eyes onto her, frowning. "Shut up Bella."

Harry rolled his eyes, sipping his cold pint as he did so. "It doesn't matter. She'll be here. Of course she will. I mean come on, it's been what? Ten years? I'm sure she's dying to see you Ed."

"Stop calling me that!" He slammed a fist onto the bar, standing up as he did so. "When are the others coming Bella?"

"They said they'd be here by tomorrow."

All of a sudden, Harry's eyes lit up. His head snapped up and he grinned at Bella.

"Bloody hell." Iorwerth shook his head, staring at the teenager. "Why does he have to be a kid?"

"Yeah it is a pain." The grin didn't fade from Harry's face as he stared at the beer. "Hormones and all that shit."

"Try being Lil." Bella laughed. "Oh gods, remember when she tried something different?"

"That...that was scary." Iorwerth's body shuddered. "She should never have hung around the school like that."

"Still." Bella looked thoughtful. "She did manage to let a lot of teenage boys lose their virginity."

"I suppose."

The door swung open, and all three turned to stare as they heard the tell tale sound of heels clashing on the hard wooden floor. Bella lifted a hand in greeting, Iorwerth stared unashamed at the long legs and the beautiful heels, Harry nodded before turning back to his drink.

"Red wine Lil?"

"As always." Lil smiled, walking towards them and standing behind Iorwerth. She slipped the bag from her shoulder, placing it on the bar, before putting a hand on each of his shoulders. "My proud lover. How have you been?"

Her fingers moved skilfully between his shoulder blades, a soft smile upon her lips as he tilted his head back and stared up at her. "Lustful sprite." The anger that had adorned his features moments ago had disappeared upon seeing her, his eyes carefully locked on her as she laughed, the sound music to his ears, before she turned and sat the other side of Harry, away from him, taking the glass Bella offered to her.

"Harry! Still enjoying being a teenager then?"

"Of course." He waved a hand in front of his chest, bending the top part of his body slightly in a mock bow.

"Good. And where is Michelle?"

Again the boy's eyes lit up, excitement there as he grinned. "Coming tomorrow."

"Why were you late anyway?" Iorwerth cut in, staring intently at Lil as she slipped a hand into her bag, withdrawing a pack of cigarettes. She offered them around, and moments later all four of them were taking long drags.


"Hand or blow?" Bella asked, with a sly grin on her face as Lil lifted her eyes to meet Bella's.


"What is it with you and Priests?" Harry was unable to hide the laughter in his voice, a glint in his eyes.

"They're fun. So confused and nervous. Plus it's Catholicism. I love it!" She squealed her and Bella exchanging significant looks.

"All that finery and prestige." Iorwerth gestured towards the Jack Daniels, a nod of thanks towards Bella as she took the bottle and placed it in front of him. "So proud of what they are."

"They do too much." Harry replied, leaning on the bar and frowning into the distance.

Lil laughed, clapping Harry's back. "Most people do, to you, my dear friend."

"True. So where we going Lil? I'm guessing you found somewhere."

"Same place I just came from." She grinned at them, winking a beautiful eye as she sipped her wine. "Small town, small people. Never anything exciting."

"Until now." Bella titled her head back, a smile playing on her lips. "Until we get there."