Claimed By Sin: Father Levi

Chapter Four: Angelic Obsession

Levi

As I placed everything from my pockets onto my desk, setting the Bible I brought with me down, a knock came at my door. Sighing, I worked my way around the furniture, grabbing the handle to the entrance and turning it.

“Father Levi!” Thomas’s voice boomed as soon as an opening presented itself.

“Father Thomas.” I nodded in his direction, stepping to the side to allow him in.

While entering, he eyed me up and down. His gaze landed on my left brow.

“You need a little touch up…” He reached up to his brow, pointing to the middle. “Right here. I can see the scar.” He smiled as I reached up, touching my skin.

“How’d you sleep last night?” He halted in front of the chair, pulling it out.

“Quite well.” I lied, heading to take my seat.

“I hope so. I’m here to talk to you about the woman who wants some guidance.”

I nodded, reaching over to the drawer on my right. I reached in, pulling out some foundation and a small mirror. Flipping it open, I opened the bottle of makeup, dabbing some on my fingertip. I worked on covering up my blemish as he continued.

“Her name is Kanara Smirov. She is looking for counseling before she’s married off to the Mikhailov family.” My body froze, my grip clasping onto the mirror tightly while those words hit me.

“She doesn’t know which member she’s being married off too, but you and I know–” He paused, shifting in his seat. I closed the compact, putting the lid back on the foundation bottle and placing the two items into my drawer. Closing it, I moved and clasped my hands in front of me on the table.

“You and I both know that family is trouble. She needs all the help she can get before entering that… hell hole.” He closed his eyes, making the sign of the cross.

“Yes.” I only managed to say one word. I stared at the tapestry on the wall behind his head. It was the famous Michel Angelo painting. My jaw tightened as the images slowly became distorted.

“Demons inhabit those with frail minds Father Levi…” I shook my head as Father Thomas spoke. “ If you’re not able to do this, let me know.”

“No, I’m alright.” I stood up from my seat. He mirrored my action, extending his hand out for a shake. I clasped his hand with mine. “May God give you the strength you need in this time of need.” He smiled, patting my hand with his free one.

“Amen.” I whispered as he nodded. My vision became blurry as he exited my office, the door closing echoed through my ears. I grasped onto the desk, my heart slamming into my chest, my breathing heavy. The walls surrounding me became closer, the cross on the wall slowly slid into an upside down position as blood started to seep out of the cracks that scattered the plaster.

“S-Stop!” I closed my eyes tightly, grinding my teeth.

“Oh… but it’s so fun to watch you feebly run away from me…” A distorted voice whispered to me.

“I’m redeeming myself. Leave me be– you beast!” I shouted, turning around. I was faced with a mirrored image of myself, except it wasn’t the me I came to be. No, it was the me from my past. The one who enjoyed killing, torturing and being…

“Free?” The image chuckled as I shook my head viciously. “You call not doing what pleases you free?!” He leaned closer to my face, just hovering in front of me.

“Tempation is the devil.” I gritted my teeth, staring him in his eyes.

“No–no…my friend…” He leaned in his voice brushing against my ear. “You are the devil…” he hissed, disappearing into thin air. The room slowly turned back to normal. I pinched the bridge of my nose, taking in a deep breath. A soft knock had me spinning around, almost knocking my chair over.

“Who is it?” My question came out more aggressive than I wanted it to. My recent slips on reality are messing with my brain to the point I’m struggling to see what’s real.

“Um… hello, Father Levi?” That amazingly smooth voice penetrated the wood, sliding into my ears. I bit down on my lip, hard as I cleared my throat.

“Yes, come in.” My voice slightly wavered. I hope she didn’t catch it. The door clicked and slowly opened.

My hands gripped the edges of my desk tightly, my knuckles groaned against my split skin that was being held together by that glue. Her appearance was– gut wrenchingly beautiful.

She wore a black turtle neck that curved and cupped her breasts like socks. Her jeans were tight, wrapping around her curves and highlighting her hips. Her boots stopped at her ankle, revealing a small anklet that shined gold against my room's light. My eyes avoided her face as best as I could, but they couldn’t. They landed on her hazel eyes that had specs of honey strewn throughout the iris. Her lashes were long, and curled up by mascara. Her face was milky white, paired with rosy cheeks and a natural pink that would put the prettiest flower to shame.

“Hi, my names Kanara Smirov,” She spoke, her lips moving slowly in front of me as she reached out her hand. I stared at the gesture, clearing my throat and stepping back.

“I’m Father Levi, please have a seat child.” I forced my words out. I didn’t want to call her child. I wanted to call her mine– but no. I took a seat as she pulled her hand away from me, tucking her head down. She grabbed the back of the chair, pulling it out and taking a seat.

“What brings you to my office Ms. Smirov?” I slightly moved, opening the drawer on my left and pulling out some paper and a pen.

“Well, I’m looking for some spiritual guidance. I–I’m hoping I can find comfort and resolve in the lord.”

No, find comfort and resolve in me. A distorted voice slid through my thoughts. I took a deep breath, keeping my focus on her. She avoided eye contact, glancing around the room. She chewed the inside of her lip.

“Well, I can help you find your path to our lord. But the comfort and resolve will have to come from within. With guidance from him, you can achieve what you’re looking for.” I smiled softly at her, tilting my head slightly so her eyes could meet mine. Big mistake.

She locked her gaze with mine, her cheeks flushing into a beautiful red.

“Oh…” escaped her beautiful lips. I cleared my throat, leaning back in my chair.

“We can start with discussing what’s troubling you.” I forced a smile as she stared at me, studying my face.

“You’re…” She gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth. “ Never mind… um…I’m sorry!”

“You’re free to speak freely–child.” Again, I didn’t want to call her child, but for now it’ll do.

“Oh, nothing! Sorry…” She broke eye contact, fanning herself as she looked over to the left of the room. She took a deep breath, turning and looking back at me.

“I don’t want to be married off… to some barbarian Father.” Her fidgeting stopped, her lips pursing together as tears pricked the corner of her eyes.

“I– I want to fall in love. I want to have the freedom to choose who I wish to be with.” There’s that word again… freedom.

“God–God doesn’t give us what we can’t handle, child.” I leaned forward, my core raging as my mind kept going back to my fantasies about her. I placed my hands on the desk as I continued. “I will help guide you to the lord, so he can help you find your path through this obstacle." Her lip quivered, her hand reaching out and clasping mine. I froze.

“Oh, my! I’m so sorry!” She pulled her touch away from me, my body igniting into a pit of lust. I clasped my hands together, squeezing tightly. I heard a pop, as horror washed over her face.

Warm liquid trickled down my skin, leaving a small pool of blood on my desk.

“I’m sorry! I–” Her voice was shaky as I stood up. I sucked air through my teeth, holding in a groan in my throat. She hurriedly shuffled through her purse, pulling out a handkerchief and handing it to me. I nodded, taking it and wrapping it around my knuckles.

“It’s not your fault. I injured myself yesterday, helping someone out. I should have had it properly looked at.” I smiled, this time genuinely. I wanted to ease her nerves, make her feel better. Her brows pulled together, her lip tucked under her teeth as she looked up at me concerningly.

“I’ll wash this and make sure to give it back to you when we meet again, tomorrow?” I kept my smile as I applied more pressure to my hand, almost digging my nails into the wounds. I wanted to feel pain, I wanted to feel anything other than my desire burning for her. Any sane person would hand this woman off to another priest, someone who doesn’t have these feelings boiling under the surface. But I can’t, I can’t leave this woman. She stood up, bowing.

“Thank you…Father.” Her voice barely came out in a whisper. I gripped my drawer next to me, waiting for her to turn around. As she did, I silently opened it, removing a pair of scissors.

“Not a problem Ms. Smirov. I look forward to our meeting.” I kept my hand hidden behind my back as I walked to open the door for her.

She beamed up at me as she walked past me. I quickly reached out, snipping a piece of her hair before she passed the threshold. She paused, turning to face me. Her brows furrowed in a look of confusion. I tilted my head, nodding in her direction. Her expression softened while she turned. I held the strands in my hand, running them under my nose as she swayed her hips down the hall.

My heart fluttered at what I had just done. Her scent circled my nostrils, sending butterflies bouncing within my stomach. This woman triggered my primal instinct, my unwanted impulses. She is now–my angelic obsession.