Chapter 4
It was the smell of blood that often bothered Matthew the most. Tangy and coppery, it wafted through the air and lazily about his nose like it had no better place to be. He was sure if he still had his sight actually seeing the carnage might have been a bit more unsettling to him. He was sure the sight of the pools of blood he walked through and dismembered bodies Elektra left in her wake would have set off an inescapable warning sirens in his human mind. As it was though, the thud of dead flesh falling to the ground and feeling tacky blood drying on his skin were muted discomforts to the smell of blood clouding his nose.
“You look good like this,” Elektra said, gingerly placing her hand on his blood streaked face.
“Did you just drop a body in here?” Matthew asked, sitting up from the covers of his bed.
“Darling, playing dumb doesn’t suit you.” She replied, crawling into bed with him and coaxing him awake by rubbing his shoulder. “I was just having a bit of a snack before we go out tonight.”
He was relaxing into her touch, but at her last comment he shook her off and got out of bed. He made his way to the water pitcher and basin in the corner of the room. The two of them had spent the last few weeks out every night running errands for Stick. These weren’t the innocent or only slightly dubious tasks of his youth though. Since Elektra had come to town he had spent his nights drenched in blood fighting, tracking or eliminating some of Stick’s more loud and notorious rivals. It was exhausting and exhilarating for Matthew. In the moment, fighting and stalking through the city next to Elektra felt like what he was meant to be doing; it felt right and just. But for just as much as his nights excited him, they drained his body and wore on his mind. There were many mornings he woke like this, covered in the previous night’s grime and gore, too tired to clean himself up before he collapsed into sleep.
“I just wish you wouldn’t kill a man in my room like that.” He said after cleaning his skin.
“Don’t worry darling, he isn’t dead. Well, not yet at least.” She walked over and took the damp cloth from his hands and set to wiping any gore he missed. “It wouldn’t bother you so much if you asked Stick to turn you.”
He stiffened at that, “You’re not going to start that again are you?”
“Look Matthew,” She began, “You’re a human living among vampires, living almost as a vampire. Would it really be so hard to-”
“We are not talking about this again.”
“Fine, meet me in the foyer when you’re ready.” She threw the rag down and made her way to the door. “But don’t be surprised when one day your human body can’t keep up.”
…
There was an emerging coven on the docks of the East Side. Tonight was a long and uneventful exercise in scouting. Stick wasn’t always opposed to new or neighboring covens, but he needed to know if this one was going to be a problem. And in the coming weeks if it was decided that they couldn’t be controlled or trusted it would be Matthew and Elektra’s job to eliminate them. They had both decided weeks ago that wouldn’t be a challenging job if it came to that. The group was only a dozen young vampires; they had become jaded with their old masters and they were in the disposition of vulnerability. They had broken off before they had time to truly learn to care for themselves and excel in the art of being a vampire. Matthew doubted this situation would need to come to violence though. From the intelligence he and Elektra had gathered they broke from their old masters due to disagreements on their original coven’s distasteful treatment of humans. The outlines Stick had for neighboring covens were simple: no excessive killing of humans, no drawing unnecessary attention, and no hostile action towards their coven. From everything Matthew had seen so far it didn’t appear this coven would have a problem with those rules.
“Come on darling, I think we’ve done enough watching for tonight,” Elektra prompted when the sky had just begun to pale with the light of impending dawn.
Matthew yawned and stretched out his sore limbs, “I thought we’d seen enough when they went to sleep an hour ago.”
“The ones you have to look out for are those who sneak out in the hours before dawn after the rest of the coven has gone to bed.” She stood herself and offered Matthew a hand up. “The hour of predawn was always my favorite time for mischief.”
“Hummm, well then what do your early hours activites say about you?” Matthew mused playfully.
“Nothing you don’t already know,” She leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Race you back to the safe house!”
With that she darted off the roof, plummeting into the darkness below. Matthew scrambled to a start, electing to stay on top of the skyline and run from roof to roof. He had traveled halfway across the island from scaling fire escapes and balconies when he lost track of Elektra’s movements. He hadn’t expected to beat her back, but he certainly had been getting faster. He had made it more than halfway back before he began to lose steam and she pulled forward with her inhuman agility. Matthew allowed himself to slow from a sprint, to a jog, and finally making his way back to the ground at a leisurely walk. He wasn’t racing time to hide from the sun in a thick curtained and shut up house, he could afford to walk.
The sun was just beginning to peak it’s rosy fingers over the horizon when Matthew realized just where he had wandered into. The smell from the bakeries, restaurants, and factories were all the same as he remembered from his childhood. He had found his way into Hell’s Kitchen. Of course he had come here on a number of occasions since he went to live with Stick, but this was the first time it wasn’t on an errand or mission with Elektra. He rarely had free time to begin with, let alone stroll about Manhattan by himself. And something about the early morning made his senses sing. He could hear the toll of the early morning church bells coming from the same church his father used to take him to. They called to him and he found himself answering the call, making his way to the building and going inside.
The world always felt a bit muted inside a church. Time slowed to a crawl and the cool air clung sticky to his skin. It threw Matthew off his balance in a way that was somewhere in between taking a blow to the head and getting the wind knocked out of his chest. When he had first been blinded and was just learning to see the world again in a new way, he used to think this feeling was the presence of God. The power of the Almighty interacting with him in his heightened senses in a way that was his and his alone. Now he stood before the altar a grown man with years of serving demons with his body and blood blackening his soul. He still thought the bewilderment might be an act of God, but if it was, the intent was anything but altruistic.
“Are you here for confession son?” A male voice called out from behind him.
He spun around in a mild panic. How had he not heard the man approaching? As he listened in now the man was obviously human, and more than likely the priest of this church.
“Sorry son, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The priest spoke again. “I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Father Murphy.”
“Ahhh no, I used to come to this church with my father. Father Moore was the priest here then.”
“Oh that must have been a long time ago then, I don’t think I’ve heard that name. What brings you here this morning?”
“I uh… felt a calling.” Matthew still felt a little off balance from Father Murphy sneaking up on him, the muted feeling from the church enveloping him further into its haze.
“Well, the Lord works in mysterious ways. Maybe you’re here for a reason.”
Matthew scoffed at that, “Father I haven’t been in a church for a long time. It’s been even longer since I’ve been a worthy child of God.”
“If you felt a calling here that might be a sign, God calling you back to the flock.” Father Murphy countered.
He paused for a moment at that. His love for God had never disappeared in all his time living amongst vampires. It faded and waned with time, but never disappeared and his fear and respect had aged similarly.
“In my homeland there used to be a story they whispered around the cooking fires. ‘Watch out for those Murdock boys who live in the next village over. They got the Devil in them.’ It wasn’t until we came here that I learned what they meant. I lead a troubling life Father, I got the Devil in me. I don’t think I can be welcomed back to the flock.”
“The Devil was and still is an angel, even he is still in God’s love.” Father Murphy offered. He took a tentative step forward and put a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “You’re always welcome here son.”
The sun had climbed its way halfway up the sky by the time Matthew made his way back to the safe house. No noise to be heard as all the vampires slept the day away in the darkness. He had been mulling over his conversation with Father Murphy on the walk back. The sight of Elektra peacefully sleeping in his bed, waiting for him, and the longing seeing her sparked in him made him realize something.
If he could love and be loved by a monster, he didn’t deserve to be in God’s love.