Claimed By Sin: Father Levi

Chapter three: The Start

Levi

I sat on my bed, staring at the bible that lay in front of me. I couldn’t do it. I ended up touching myself that night to the thought of that woman. It felt– wonderful. My hand stroking myself as the thought of her lips were wrapped around my tip. How I pumped into her face, her eyes locking with mine. Spit dribbling from the corners of her mouth as I unloaded my sin onto her tongue.

I’m a monster.

I flung the bible across my room, smashing it into the wall. Raising my hands, I ran them through my hair and gripped tightly.

“Get the f**k out of my head!” I groaned through clenched teeth. I flung myself off my mattress, heading to the bathroom to splash some water on my face.

Standing at the sink I stared into my reflection. My emerald eyes shimmered as the light hit them, my black hair a ruffled mess. My gaze wandered down to the tattoos on my neck and chest. They were a variety of skulls, crosses and roses. Each one a reminder of a life I took.

Grasping onto the corner of the sink, my knuckles groaned against my scarred skin. The ache, the want to take this frustration out on someone was edging me. But I can’t. I turned over a new leaf… the favors I had to pull to be this–new man. I couldn’t. Not without cause. And a stupid crush was not a cause.

I turned the water on to the coldest setting, wetting my wash cloth. I took it to my skin, scrubbing my face to rid the makeup I used to cover up the upside down cross tatted just under the corner of my right eye. Once that was revealed, I moved over to my left eye, scrubbing it. The make up lifted, revealing a scar that went from the top of my brow down to the top of my cheek.

Raising my fingertips, I brushed against the skin. I remembered how I got this, it was during a scuffle during a hit that went wrong. My partner didn’t do the right recon. I luckily was there to clean the mess up. I wasn’t called Koschei without reason.

Scoffing, I ripped my stare from my image. This reminiscing shouldn’t be happening. I’ve been out of that life for a while, turning my sins into fuel to help others.

My head hung low in shame as I exited my bathroom, heading to climb into my fabric coccoon. I need rest, it’s the only thing I can think of to do. As my head hit the pillow, my eyes stared straight out my window. I closed my eyes tightly, as that image of that woman crept into my mind.The imagery of her laying next to me riddled my thoughts, making my chest ache. Oh– how wonderful would it be for her to be next to me.

“Stop it Levi!” I groaned, rolling over onto my back. I placed my palms on my eyes while frustration roiled within me. My chest heaved up and down, my core burning as my c**k raged against my sheets.

Breathing heavily, I slid my hand under my blankets, running my rough fingertips over my stomach. God, how I wish my hand wasn’t so scarred, so messed up that I could properly envision her hand. I’m sure it was soft…

My phone rang, making me bolt forward, throwing the sheets off me. I quickly planted my feet on the carpet, hauling myself up. Who ever is calling me–thank you.

I fumbled through my coats pocket, finding my device and pulling it out. The caller ID read “Father Thomas". Swiping the answer button, I put the phone next to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Father Levi! How are you doing this evening?” Father Thomas’s voice hit my ear dum. I furrowed my brow, his voice seemed–off.

“I’m quite well father. Is everything alright?”

Silence filled the air between us before he cleared his throat.

“Is everything alright with you? I saw you quickly leave this afternoon– you’re not… doing the things you used to–”

“No Father Thomas, I swear.” I cut him off before he finished. Father Thomas knows of my past. My slip ups when I first started my journey into priesthood, the things I did too keep this church safe, all forgiveness for it was done in the name of God.

“Thank you God!” He sighed out. “If you’re struggling, Levi, please reach out. Demons like to take hold of a mind that’s already plagued.”

“I appreciate your worry Father Thomas, but I assure you I’m alright.” An utter lie. God forgive me for taking ten steps back from where I’ve come from.

“Good. There’s someone from our congregation that would like one on one prayer and guidance from one of us. I hope you don’t mind. I put your name in the hat.” He chuckled. I straightened my stance, heading back to my bed.

“Of course, I wouldn’t mind.” I pulled the sheets back, climbing in.

“Good, she’s from a prestigious family. Helping her out might help the church further down the road.”

“Absolutly Father Thomas. I will gladly help where I am needed.”

“Good, be at church at 8am sharp! Get some rest.” His final words left me with some comfort.

“See you tomorrow at 8am.” I confirmed, then hung up. I placed my phone on my dresser, then pulled my blankets up to my chin. I closed my eyes as some peace finally fell upon me. I can bury myself into helping this soul out, and with that I can rid myself of these horrible impulses.

My dreams were not peaceful that night. My memories fought against my threshold, battling against my barriers. Blood, c*****e and desire ragged through my dreamland as a smile was plastered on my face. The imagery jumped to me disemboweling a poor fellow, my phone's alarm rang through my skull, awakening me.

My eyes flung open as my limbs trembled, my nerves tingling and forcing me up. I staggered out of my bed, making my way to the restroom. I grasped onto the sinks edge, my chest falling and rising rapidly as my muscles tightened around my body. My knuckles turned white as my grip on the sink's edge became desperate. Looking up into the mirror, blood was smeared across my face. The reflection staring back at me was contorted and feral.

“f**k off!” I screamed, smashing my fist into the glass, shattering it. Sharp edges embedded into my knuckles as crimson rain dripped into the prestige porcelain basin. My grip on reality distorting as the sink flashed into an image of a steel bucket full of bloodied rags.

My mind turned my bathroom into the torture chamber I used to inhabit. The clean white walls turned into broken tiles, grime and dirt etched into the grout. The light fading into a dimly lit swinging bulb that spread a sickly yellow across my floor.

My vision became jittery, the edges turning into static as I frantically looked for the shower.

“Where are you rushing off to izverg?” A heavily Russian accent slithered through my ears, making my feet halt as I was mid way to my shower. My hands balled into fists as my jaw tightened, twitching as my teeth gnashed together.

“You can’t outrun–” The words were whispered into my ear, sending goosebumps blazing down my skin.

“Trakhat’sya*!” I spat, spinning around, only to be met with nothing. Scoffing, I turned back to the shower. The water will help dissipate these illusions and ground me.

*f**k off*

I grasped the shower handle, turning it to the coldest selection possible. The water cascaded onto my head before I could put my whole body under the coolness. I closed my eyes, my heart slamming into my lungs while I tried to take slow, controlled breaths.

“It’s all in your head Levi… all in the past.” I muttered, sucking in the water through my teeth. Opening my eyes, I turned slightly, my vision was met with my clean white bathroom. Broken glass laid scattered on the floor, as droplets of blood led to where I stood.

Sighing, I pulled my head out from under the shower head, lifting my hand up to inspect it. The lacerations pulsated under the flowing fluid. I’ve had worse…

I stuck my hand under the water, letting it run into a river of faded crimson as I undid my pants, dropping them to the floor. Removing my hand from the running spout, I turned it off and headed to the cabinet that sat by my sink.

Opening it, I retrieved the first aid kit I had there. Pausing, I looked back down to my knuckles, then back at the kit. If I put bandaids on I’ll bleed through them. I’ll also attract attention from Father Thomas, and I do not wish for that.

Slamming the cabinet, I turned and headed to the kitchen. I pulled out the drawer I had that held all my knick knacks. I rummaged through it, finding what I was looking for. Removing the super glue, I raised the cap to my mouth, popping it off. I turned the bottle upside down, dabbing it to my split skin. Once the product was on, I pinched it closed with my free hand. I stared as I waited for the final cut to stay closed, the pain not registering in my mind.

That was one of my abilities. I wouldn’t call it that, but my father did. Everyday, he’d break something– cut something. Anything to get my pain tolerance up. It worked. Worked so well I didn’t sweat much, I didn’t feel the pain of knives and punches. A bullet though would get a reaction out of me. Not as big of a reaction as he wanted. Some wanted to label it congenital insensitivity to pain, but I call it getting the s**t beaten out of you since you were born.

I wiggled my knuckles, the skin pulling as I did so. That’ll do. Now it’s time to get dressed and leave for the church. I headed to the bathroom to throw on the makeup to cover up my scar and tattoo. Once done, I headed back to my room.

I quickly threw on a new pair of black pants and an undershirt. I then threw on my clerical shirt. Grabbing my clerical collar, I wrapped it around my neck, tucking it under the rim of the fabric and securing it. I smoothed my clothing out, turning and heading to grab my bible I chucked against the wall last night. Bending over, I grabbed it, flipping it over. It was on a Psalm that read “his soul hates the wicked and the ones who love violence.” A lump formed in my throat as I quickly snapped the book shut.

Turning to head out, I tucked my book close to my body as I reached out, grabbing my keys and wallet off the counter. I stuffed the objects into my pocket, striding out the door and closing it. I didn’t feel the need to lock it, I doubt anyone would attempt to steal from… a priest.

I quickly made my way to my beat up honda civic, unlocking it and entering the vehicle. I sat there, staring at the steering wheel.

“Gotta do this–” I whispered to myself, sticking my key into the ignition. The car roared to life, jolting forward when I took it off park. The drive to my church wasn’t too bad. It was a good twenty minutes by car and a solid hour if one chose to walk.

As I drove down Bond St. the traffic was slightly heavier than normal. I was able to flip on the radio, listening to 96.8 fm while I inched my way down the street.

“Yea, Bradford there’s a rumor circulating that the Smirov family’s only daughter is being married off to one of the most notorious crime bosses of the city!” The radio's voice cracked a bit. I raised a brow as I tapped my steering wheel.

“That rumor seems to gain more and more traction everyday, Jack. What are your views on this?”

“Honestly man, don’t involve me! I don’t want my apartment building blown up!” The two announcers laughed simultaneously. A shiver went up my spine as imagery from the last and final hit I did flew across my vision. I closed my eyes tightly, shaking the feeling off. A car horn honked, my eyes flung open as I stuck my hand out the window, waving. I pulled forward, continuing my trek to my church that landed at the end of Douglas Street’s cul de sac. It was right next to the Gowanu’s Canal. We got a lot of foot traffic due to the location and the new “exclusive club” that was at the corner of Douglas and Bond.

I approached the stop light, turning on my left blinker. A black SUV pulled up behind me, flashing their blinker. I looked into my rear view mirror, sucking my teeth. I know that vehicle all too well.

The light turned green, prompting me to move forward. I turned, heading down the street. I pulled into the parking that was directly across from my building. Stepping out and locking my car, I turned as the SUV parked in front of the Church. My curiosity piqued as I moved forward, stopping just at the curb.

“Daddy– I’m fine. Please…” That familiar sweet voice hit my skull, making me ball my firsts.

“No Kanara, this behavior is… ridiculous!” A weary voice replied. I moved forward, without another thought.

“Dad, please? You’re making me… do something I don’t want to do in three months. This is the least you can do.” Her voice seemed tried and desperate. I quickly finished crossing the street, making my way around the SUV. As her black hair came into view, my heart lunged into the pit of my stomach.

“Hello!” I said in a fake up beat tone, tilting my head towards the two while I continued on my path to the church's front doors. She turned, her beautifully pink lips parting slightly. Her eyes landed on mine, the desperate look that lay on her face softened as a small smile crept over her lips.

“Father–” She tilted her head in my direction. I tilted mine back in a greeting, turning my head back to focus on my path.

“He looks oddly familiar…” Her dads voice slid through the air. I hope he didn’t recognize me, that’d be bad for the church.

“Don’t be silly daddy, when’s the last time you’ve set foot into a church?’ Her voice faded as I ascended the set of small steps, reaching the wooden doors. I pushed one open, entering and shutting her angelic essence outside.