The Devil Resides in Louisiana

No matter how fast he ran, those bare trees seemed so far away from Zion. The air was so cold, he could taste blood in his mouth as his heart worked overtime. But he had to keep going. He had to keep running. Run until he could hide in those trees and hope the snow falling from the sky now would eventually bury him in the cold, dark earth.

The tears in his eyes felt like they were freezing as soon as they spilled out, shaking his head while he muttered in heavy and quick breaths: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

It was too late for sorry now, little lamb.

His little world was only a murky beige and grey as he kept running, hardly able to feel his feet now. But those damn trees were too far for him to catch. He realized that when he heard his name being called it was getting closer.

Now the blood on his back felt hot.

Zion awoke with a jolt, his breath caught in his throat as his eyes snapped open. He stared at the ceiling for a while as he shifted his breath to a normal tempo, his eyes flickering as he studied every crack and spot.

As he sat up in his bed, he realized it had been a while since he had had a nightmare like that. He could have sworn he left all that behind in Pennsylvania. He let out a hoarse sigh, pushing inky strands of hair back; the kind of hair he just could never get to cooperate. He laid back down for a moment, feeling his breath come back to a steady rhythm. He listened to the wind outside rustle the trees, a wind chime dancing in the distance. As he laid there, he suddenly heard the long creek of the wooden stairs outside of his room, groaning louder and louder. He turned his head, eyebrows furrowed. He tried to sit back up, but a heavy weight on his chest held him down like a ghostly hand. His mouth felt stuck together, panic rising as the footsteps drew closer to his door. The silence of it was killing him, and yet it was all so loud in his ears. The footsteps only seemed to continue on for too long. It was getting too close to his bedroom door for comfort.

"Who's there?" He was finally able to blurt out, the words escaping him deep from his chest as he shot up; the invisible weight lifting off of him.

The footsteps stopped, coming to a head halt. Zion sat there, his eyes wide and chest heaving; feeling like he was breathing for the first time in a few minutes.

He shot from his bed and swung the door open. The empty hallway looked back at him, the golden morning light revealing the safety of his rectory.

"A nightmare that continues in my wake." He muttered to himself before slamming the door shut and began to get ready for the day.

It was Sunday, after all. But there was no rest for him.

He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he was hoping Rosemary would be at his sermon. Even after the sun came up, bringing the unforgiving heat with it, his parishioners rolled up the gravel road leading up to the white chapel. He stood in the shade on the porch, greeting those who came in and watching the children in their Sunday best chase each other under the massive willow tree right by the holy building. Even once they all came and sat on the old, wooden pews, he kept his eyes out for a head full of wild red curls. But disappointment was all he found.

He should have known she wouldn't come, the witch she was. He wondered what she even did with the bible he gave her. Probably chucked it the second he was out of view, or maybe drew satanic ruins on it all in spite of him. Wicked lamb she was. He only grew more frustrated thinking about her and was losing his focus on the sermon. He would deal with her later.

The air was thick and humid by the time the sermon was over and everyone had left the chapel. Zion went back to the podium to collect his notes and bible, letting out a heave of a sigh as he rested his forehead against it.

"Lord, I'm not gonna make it..." He muttered to himself, feeling the sweat on his back trickle down.

"Hello?" called out the smallest voice. Zion's head snapped up, his pear-green eyes wide hearing the sudden voice. There stood Rosemary, closing the wooden doors behind her as a small smile crept over her lips "I'm a bit late, huh?"

A scowl stretched over his face, slowly shaking his head. He knew better, she wasn't really here for church. There was something written across her face that screamed otherwise. But he decided to play her games. "And why are you late?"

"Well..." she shrugged sheepishly as she walked down the aisle. Zion's harsh gaze roamed her up and down. If she was here to attend a sermon, her attire was much too inappropriate. Her tiny black dress showed too much leg and cleavage. He took notice how...round her features were. Every nook and cranky on her was a soft and pale curve. Even her nose and eyes held no straight lines, no harshness to her. He blinked when he realized he hadn't heard a word she had just told him.

"What was that?" he asked with a quick shake of his head.

"I said everyone in this town looks at me as if I've killed their firstborn son?" she repeated with an arch of her brow "It's why I didn't come to your sermon. I didn't think anyone would be comfortable with me sitting in these here pews."

"They would have been happy to have you here."

"You don't know them the way I do." She said as she approached the podium, getting up on her tiptoes. She crossed her arms and rested them on the edge of the podium, her chin nestled on top. "I did you a favor, Father. But I'm here now, aren't I?"

Zion didn't like how close she was to him like this. How comfortable she was lounging on his podium. His scowl only deepened, then he noticed something tucked in her elbow.

"What is that?"

"I made you some bread." She smiled up at him "I thought maybe it would make up for being late."

"You made bread instead of coming to my sermon, I assume?" he asked in a deadpan tone.

"Hey, it's better than out sinning, Father."

"You're still sinning as long as you're not accepting Christ and continuing your witchcraft. Being endearing like this isn't making up for any of it."

"You think I'm cute?" Rosemary grinned widely up at him. The priest's face flushed at the implication that he thought she was cute. He felt she was far from that.

"I did not say such a thing." He replied defensively.

She only kept up that shit-eating grin, her head slightly tilting to the side.

"Well, I think you're cute." she added cheerfully. "Anyway, you hungry? I worked up my appetite walking all the way here."

Zion's face reddened even further, unable to fully admit to himself how much her playful teasing made him squirm.

"I..." he trailed off, trying to piece himself back together after being caught in her flirty trap.

"Come on now, I want you to try this bread I made you. Let's eat outside, it's stuffy in here. I may burst into flames if I stand in here any longer." She said with a playful smirk, pushing herself off the podium and headed for the doors. Zion felt like he couldn't say no to this. He began to wonder if he kept up this friendly little act, she would start to submit. It wasn't his usual forte, but whatever got her to admit her soul was spoiled.

They went outside together, the sun peeking through the clouds as the cicadas sounded like white noise to Zion. Rosemary found herself a seat under the willow tree, sitting right down and began to take the tea towel off the basket that held the loaf of bread. Zion stared down at her for a moment, not truly liking the idea of sitting in the grass. Yet he did as she did, keeping some distance between them as he folded his legs.

"It's honey-lavender bread. I hope you like it." she said as she took a butter knife out of the basket and sliced him a piece. He took the piece of bread from the witch and took the smallest of bites. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the bread in his hands, Rosemary happily eating her own slice.

"This is...divine. Truly divine." He admitted, taking a second bite to taste it in full "You made this all by yourself?"

"Yes sir, I did." She boasted with pride, taking another bite of her slice "I like to bake when I get the chance. I usually don't when it's this hot out, but I made an exception for you, Father."

Zion glared at her from the side of his eyes, indulging in another bite of her bread. He swallowed, taking a breath to speak but she beat him to it.

"You got any hobbies? You know I like gardening and baking. Now you tell me what you do." She insisted on him telling her, licking off some crumbs on her bottom lip. "Besides praying and reading the bible."

Zion brushed the crumbs off his black trousers, thinking for a moment if he should answer her question.

"Well, my religion and priesthood is something I consider a hobby as well." he answered in all seriousness, his thin lips pressing together as if to hold back any more words. But when those cobalt blue eyes of hers laid on him, he felt a weakness he had never known before "...when I was younger, I drew a lot. Lately I find myself writing a bit more though."

"You're an artist?" she gasped as her eyes grew wide with excitement "Oh, tell me more! What did you draw? Do you still draw?"

Zion's pale cheeks heated up with embarrassment, pretending there was an interesting shaped cloud up in the sky to hide his face. "Like I said, it was only when I was younger. I don't really remember what I drew, it was so long ago."

"Well, what do you write now?" she leaned forward, her fingers slowly raking through the grass.

"All sorts of things, I guess." he shrugged "I usually just keep a journal of my theological studies. Sometimes I just...write whatever comes to mind. About how I feel, what I felt the Lord had told me. Sometimes my dreams, too."

"Oh, you'll have to read it to me sometime. Especially about the dreams, I love hearing people's dreams." she gushed "So much symbolism behind them, or they're even prophetic."

"I'm not reading you anything I've written." he snorted, turning his head back to her "If anything, I'd like to know if you read that bible I gave you."

"I did." she answered with a nod. Zion opened his mouth to give her another lecture at how uncooperative she was, until he realized that she said she did.

"...you did now?"

"Mhm," she nodded again "Funny stuff, I gotta say."

"It's not a comedy." his eyes shot daggers at her "What on earth did you find so humorous about it?"

"Well, I just find the whole thing...hypocritical."

"How? How is any of it hypocritical?"

"Well, to be fair I just kinda skimmed over a few pages. But Jesus walked on water? He turned water into wine? Broke a piece of fish and bread and was able to feed hundreds of people? Now that's witchcraft, Father." she pointed to him as she leaned to the side, propping her elbow into the grass and rested her head on her hand.

Zion felt his already short fuse with sinners like her nearing its end. He took a breath, trying to have some sort of patience with her.

"It wasn't witchcraft. He was performing miracles."

"With magic."

"Miracles are not magic. Magic is evil, all magic is evil!" he snapped, waving his hand.

"Who's to say I'm not performing miracles?" she asked, pointing to herself as a grin slowly melted over her lips.

"Do not flatter yourself, devil woman."

"So what, only Jesus and priests like you can be the only ones here doing what is technically witchcraft, but you get off Scot-free if you call it a miracle?"

"Miracles are made from the Lord. Magic is made from the devil. You're making it much more complicated than it is."

"But I told you, I don't worship the devil." She reminded him. He closed his eyes and let out a heavy breath.

"You are truly the worst sinner I have ever met. You know that?" He opened his eyes once more. Rosemary just looked back at him like he had complimented her.

"So why are you sitting here with me eating bread I made you instead of ridding me of this town?" she asked, though there was a sense of a challenge laced in her voice. He looked at her through his brows, not enjoying just how much she did challenge him and his words. He wanted to cleanse this town of her, surrender her to the devil if she keeps putting up a fight. And yet...she made him bread.

"It is a....temporary break from my duties." his gaze softened as he mumbled the words "I will not hesitate to take action against you if you do something.... unholy."

"Well, I suppose Sunday is the day of rest." She smirked, as if she should be the one letting him off the hook "I'll be waiting for the day you force me into holy waters or chase me out of this godforsaken town with your torch and pitchfork, Father"

"I shall be awaiting the day with a steady heart and strong resolve, witch." Zion couldn't stop the grin tugging at the corners of his lips when he said this. He truly meant this; he will cleanse that depraved soul of her whether she liked it or not. But he liked the way the light shining through the willow tree danced on her.

Rosemary pushed herself off the ground, now resting her back against the bark of the tree, her eyes locked onto him the whole time "So Father, where did you say you were from again?"

"I never said."

"So tell me."

"What I did tell you was that it doesn't matter to you."

"It does if I'm asking."

"Do you ever know when to quit?"

"Obviously not."

Zion let out a sharp breath and crossed his arms. "I'm from Pennsylvania."

"You got any family back up in Pennsylvania that would miss you? Parents? Maybe an ex-girlfriend who's heart you broke when you decided to become a priest?"

His face dusted pink when she said this. He had noticed she was rather perceptive, but now it was like she was trying to tap into his deepest insecurities.

"I did have a girlfriend before I became a priest...a long time ago now." he admitted, trying to keep his tone firm and unfeeling as he spoke.

"You did?" she gasped, seeming surprised with herself that she was right "Oh, now I gotta hear everything about your old beau. What was she like?"

Zion was caught off guard by how pushy she was being. But he was too tired and hot to put up much of a fight.

"It was a long time ago now. I hardly remember." he answered shortly. "She was nice to be around. She was a devoted Protestant too. But I felt the calling to be a priest sometime after high school, so I broke up with her. It wasn't an easy time for either one of us. But it was the right thing for me."

"Oh, I can imagine." She nodded, sounding surprisingly compassionate towards this "Shame priest can't be with a woman. Not even for a good time."

A sense of uncomfort stirred in Zion's belly when Rosemary sounded so sympathetic about the situation. He was beginning to wonder how much she actually cared for him. Was she really so interested about his history? Or was it another attempt to get under his skin?

"I must uphold my duty of celibacy for the sake of the church. My duties to God come all above else, and God knows it was not an easy choice to make."

"Hm, God truly knows how to take the fun out of everything," She sighed solemnly "All just to show that you're a loyal servant."

"I would much rather be a loyal servant to Him than be some sinful, pleasure-obsessed man. But of course, you do not seem to have the same mindset..." he narrowed his eyes on her.

"I enjoy life's pleasures and everything it has to offer." she said simply as she looked up at the swaying branches above her "I love good food, good sex, and the freedom I have to choose who I want to be in this lifetime."

The priest felt his mouth twitch into a half smile. It was ironic, the witch's definition of a perfect world was utterly opposite to his. A world of pleasure, a world free of morality and responsibility. But to him, that was a perfect image of hell.

"As I said, our lifestyles are completely different. You live for pleasure, and I live for virtue. Pleasure and virtue do not mix."

"Maybe not. But they make good company." she smiled softly at him. His eyes bore into her, her cheeks red and glossy with sweat as she turned her head and looked at him. She gave him a smile, and he did not return one to her. She didn't seem too bothered by this.

"Well, I best get back now. I heard on the radio this morning that there's a storm coming this afternoon." she said as she stood up and stretched her long legs. "You keep the bread, I'll come back for the pan later. Or you can come drop by with it, whichever you'd like."

As she stood and got ready to leave, Zion let out a soft sigh, feeling relieved and disappointed simultaneously as the witch's presence was no longer pressing down on him.

"You go on ahead then. I should be going as well." he said as he stood up as well, brushing the dirt off his bottom. Rosemary gave him one last big smile as she waved, turning to the grey and gravel road.

"Bye now, Father. Stay outta trouble, you hear?" she called out to him. He gave her a single wave and watched her until she was just a small figure in the distance. The strange sensation he felt in his chest remained as he watched her leave. Was he feeling loneliness? Or something else? It was something he couldn't put his finger on...

Zion needed to go pray before he lost his mind.