FORGIVE US OUR TRESPASSES
Chapter 1
Terror gripped him, his palms moistened, his body trembled, and his knees buckled threatening to no longer support the weight of his body. Father Thomas Starr slowly walked to the window, afraid that any sudden movement, any loud noise, might attract the owner of the footsteps outside. Starr knew that unclean spirits roamed the graveyards, animated cadavers that still held grudges against the world of the living, that still threatened to bring more to their ranks of the undead. Making his way to the cracked glass window, Father Starr scanned the tomb-ridden field from the safety of the rickety old church. Seeing nothing more than a few ravens perched on the gnarled braches of a dead, leafless tree, Starr released a sigh of relief.
Many thought that Starr was a fool for remaining behind, for failing to seek refuge in Podunk. But the elderly priest couldn’t leave. This was his home. For decades he had tended to Podunk’s graveyard, offering counseling and support to those that had lost their loved ones, and renewing the faith of the townspeople every Sunday. Starr had known and ministered to nearly every family in the small town. From his church, his base-of-operation, he had witnessed countless incidents of the unbridled joy that came with spreading the Good News. He couldn’t leave. Starr believed that these demons were sent from the pits of Hell to test his faith. To test if he would stand strong in the face of unholy opposition. He couldn’t flee. When the hand of God descended to vanquish these zombies and ghosts, it had to be known that God’s servants never wavered.
Slowly, Starr went to his favorite old rocking chair, and sat down. Out of necessity, he had converted the chapel into a living area, placing a desk and small rocking chair where the altar was. Because the church didn’t get electricity, he had to depend solely on candlelight, and between the two glowing embers that rested on their waxy pedestals was a small, well-worn Bible. It was Father Starr’s only source of comfort in his trials.
CRASH!
Starr jumped out of his chair. Dusk was quickly fading, and darkness was quickly descending upon them. The graveyard was even more dangerous at night. So far, he had been lucky, that he had only heard the wailings of the damned and the faces of demons from afar. They had never dared conjure the boldness required to enter God’s house. At least, not until now.
CRASH!
Starr’s heart raced. The demons, they were going to enter. They were coming for him. “God, fortify your children,” Starr prayed beneath his breath, watching the door, awaiting the inevitable. It was time, now at, any moment…
SLAM!
The door flew open, and the wind from the outside gushed in. In the dim light, all that Star could see was a shadow, a human-outline .No, a zombie-outline. Starr clutched the Bible, holding it like a shield over his heart.
“Be gone, unclean spirits, and defile the House of the Lord no longer!” Despite the bravery in his voice, he could barely stop himself from shaking. His breath quickened. Let it be known that he never wavered in faith, even in the last moments.
“My mom’s always telling me to clean my room, but I still think that’s kind of mean.”
Starr was taken aback. The voice sounded human. Not at all like the voices that cried out each night in agony and despair. Even the humor in the voice sounded not at all akin to the mocking tones of the zombies. Could it truly be human?
“Who… who are you?”
“Uh, hi. My name’s Ninten. Sorry to bother you.”
Relief swept through Starr’s entire body. It was not a demon! “Shut the door, and quickly. Please, child, it’s dangerous outside.”
Ninten did was he was instructed, though the church was now enveloped in darkness, only the light of two candles providing illumination. “Uh, I can’t see now. Are those candles?”
“Walk straight ahead, my child. Tell me, what brings you into such dangerous territory, especially at night.”
“I, uh, I’m looking for someone. Wow, you _live_ here?” he asked, in shock. “Are you a ghost or something?”
Starr couldn’t help but chuckle, something that he hadn’t done in a long time. “A ghost? Heavens no! I’m the priest of this parish, Father Thomas Starr.”
The boy Ninten was coming closer, approaching the table. Starr could make out a blurry outline of his face. He had black hair, somewhat contained underneath a red and blue baseball cap. He wore a striped t-shirt and shorts. But the most notable feature about Ninten was his eyes. More specifically, the fierce look of determination that shone through his pupils. Starr couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort, protection, by Ninten’s presence. He was a fighter, Starr could tell. For whatever reason Ninten was in this church, it was not because he was lost.
“So, you live here?” he asked again.
Starr nodded. “Yes. Ever since I became a priest, and, Lord willing, until the day that I die.”
Ninten nodded. “Then, can you help me? I’m looking for a girl.”
“Here? Good heavens, son, surely you’d have better luck at a mall or the school halls.”
Ninten glared at him. “That’s not funny! There’s a girl that went missing, and her mother thinks that she got lost in this graveyard.”
Starr frowned. “Please, forgive my rudeness, this is indeed a serious matter. I don’t believe that I’ve seen or heard any children in this graveyard, through I haven’t ventured father than the fenced-in yard where I tend the garden. I’m sorry. When was she first reported missing?”
Ninten thought for a minute. “A day ago. The mayor asked me to find her.”
Starr nodded dumbly, absorbing this information. Lost amongst the desolate maze of tombs and hoards of relentless minions of Hell, an innocent girl was trapped. She was just a child.
“I… I remember a scream, one slightly different than the others. Two days ago, I believe. It may have been a girl’s. Tell me, does she have a name?”
“Pippi. Her name’s Pippi.”
“A beautiful name. Surely, my son, you aren’t planning to search this graveyard in search of her.”
“I have to!” Ninten’s face showed, among other emotions, conviction. He was serious about this, every wrinkle on his face that surrounded his determined frown told Starr that.
“But those zombies will kill you! I have tired to exorcise them, but they are powerful creatures that want nothing more than to feast on the living and extend the influence of the demons and those that fear the Lord. You may not make it alive! To go through with this is sheer madness.”
“Mr. Starr, Pippi needs my help. I promised her mom that I would bring her back. I told her, and the mayor, not to worry. I won’t let any of them down! Thank you for your help.” Ninten turned to leave, when Starr noticed that, held fast by a hook in his backpack, was a baseball bat. This boy _was_ serious.
“Wait!” Starr rose from his chair, startling Ninten enough for him to turn back around.
“Yeah?”
Despite living in the small town of
“I’m coming with you. It’s admirable that you care so deeply about the life of another. But this graveyard is vast, and with the present dangers, it would be a fatal error to lose our way. I’ve lived here for the past forty years.”
He couldn’t tell for sure in the dim light, but it appeared that Ninten was smiling. “Thanks, Mr. Starr! Are you sure that you’ll be okay?”
“We’re taking a risk. But, with the Lord’s help, may we come out victorious against the brethren of the Pit.” Starr truly hoped that was the case, as they set out to find the lost girl Pippi.