The son of the devil wears suits
—“And every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh, is not of God; and such is the spirit of Antichrist, whereof ye have heard that it should come, and even now already it is in the world.” John 4:3–
“The devil comes in forms that we need most, wether it be companionship. lust. Or greed. We will have to face him. At some point or another, he will come to us and ask for our hand. And we must tell him no. We must stand with god and tell that horrid creature no.”
The words felt salty falling from franks mouth. He was vomiting out the words, saying with the people wanted to hear. saying what he knew people needed to hear. Words that he himself didn’t believe were filling the church.
When the bell struck noon, franks body filled with relief as the flocks of people began to leave. The bell was always his saving grace. He enjoyed the now quiet and large church in Manhattan. It was a few blocks from most of the church goers homes, and a fairly good liquor store.
Several people approached Frank. To give him blessings or praise or to apologize for his long dead family. People pitied him and it felt weird. It felt odd, it was out of place; much like the man in the back who had been eyeing him up the entire service.
He was still sat in his seat, on the far right side of the church almost all the way in the back. he was dressed in a fully black suit, a trench coat draped over the back of his pew. His tie was undone slightly, his collars top button popped. Frank had found himself losing focus several times during the service, and he couldn’t help but be drawn back to the man now.
Though he wore red tinted glasses Frank could see his eyes tracking him clear as day. He swore they were glowing yellow, glinting as though they were the sun itself. He wonder if this is how it feels to be hunted, to be animal in a vast concrete jungle of unknown horrors.
The ginger stoad from his seat, pulling on his trench coat before turning tail to go talk with Frank. A shiver was sent through the taller man’s body, something about this whole scenario didn’t feel right. He felt as though this stranger was a old friend coming back to kick his ass. He still questioned how could he feel so allured to this man when the two had never even shared words (as far as Frank knew).
“Good afternoon father, I was wondering if I could spare a minute of your time for some advice.” There was a pause while the man fumbled with his hands, “I suppose.. it’s more of a confession.”. Frank examined the man closer, his eyes were now dull and with no color underneath the red glasses tiny. Hell Frank wasn’t even sure there were eyes under there anymore, just gapping black holes.
The preacher nodded glancing around the church to make sure they were fully alone before leading him to the confession booth. The two taking their appropriate sides and the priest prepared his standard lines. Frank would say something about how god would never hate any one of his creations, that he loves them all and that all sins will be forgiven.
“Forgive me father for I have sinned.” And it starts. “All sins are forgiven in the light of god as long as they are shared.” Pfft what kind of bullshit was Frank saying?
There was a long pause, “it’s funny that you mention god.. the whole sins being washed away which sins does that apply to? It’s crazy cause what if I had murdered someone? Would you forgive me for that? would your god forgive me? Or perhaps if I had laid beside a priest?”
The conversation fell silent after the ginger man’s short rant.
“Do you often wish to lay beside another man father?” He said abruptly, as if baiting Frank into his own confession.
Frank pondered a response but after awhile said nothing, allowing the main on the other side to just speak his mind without input.
The man chuckled on the other side of the confession box. “I act upon the thought quite often father. It’s almost as if it’s all I can do.”
Frank had never heard a man openly admit his sins before, more specifically this freely. There was the occasional pedophile who would try to repent to less the wrath of god but they would just be faced with the wrath of father Frank instead.
Unlike most priest among the Catholic Church, Frank truly didn’t care for the smaller sins. Cheating of course was bad, murder in some cases wasn’t a big deal, and if he wanted to fuck another guy? Who the hell cares. He doubts he will be tortured in the pits of hell for eternity for fucking some Catholic who’s lost his faith. Plus, the broken Catholic men were always the best
The man on the other side of the box turned to glance at him through the screen, a faint smile visible on his lips. “I used to be a choir boy. You know? The goody two shoes type. That’s my mothers fault, my dad wasn’t big on religion. He actually despised it fully, refused to step on consecrated ground..”
“He didn’t happen to be the devil of Manhattan did he?”, Frank said after a long drawn out thought. He was raised just outside of Hell’s Kitchen, so he knew the story’s well. A murderistic drug lord that couldn’t even be rivaled by our universes king pin. Was put to rest by a young detective Mahonie, while his son was left to mourn at the age of 16; his mother fled to Rome. Everyone on the island knew the story. And it kept people up at night.
“So that makes you..” “the devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Ding. Ding. Ding”
The man’s head dropped low on the other side of the box, running a hand through his ginger hair. He took his glasses off folding them up in his hand and squeezing them loosely. Frank watched him carefully, watching for any signs of a weapon. He now assessed Matthew Murdock as a threat.
“Despite what the story’s say.. I’ve never killed a man. Call me a coward but unlike dear old dad? I just can’t pull the trigger. Tried the army for a year or two, got discharged after they found out my family’s history. Got into some scuffles, almost served jail time. The average stuff for a rising kingpin right?”
Frank nodded along still pondering what to say, “i was a marine.”. Was all that came out. He staired at his hands now, for awhile. The two basking in the beautifully sullen silence; in far off corners of the church nuns chattered, birds cooed quietly in the rafters, and faintly people could be heard outside.
“So.. red, got any plans for tonight.” Deciding in the nickname after short contemplation. The man on the other side straightened up adjusting his tie properly.
“I think I might have a few.”