1871

New Strassburg, Illinois

Mai Kipling hummed as she rose from her seat in Saint Jakob’s Church on an October moonlit night. The sixteen-year-old eyed Father Francis Fischer, who was cleaning the middle window in the log church. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she recalled the nightmares. Mai closed her green eyes as thunder rumbled outside.

The five-foot-ten, fifty-year-old, gray-haired priest paused his cleaning and beheld outside at the sky, watching dark clouds enshrouding the moon. “Miss Mai, you should go home. It looks like rain.”

The teen frowned and looked down at her shoes, “I can’t go home, Father Francis. Not tonight.”

Francis chuckled softly and shook his head. “Are you fighting with your brothers, again? Sibling fighting is natural, Mai. I fought with my siblings when I was your age, and so did Jesus. The Lord always allows forgiveness.”

“It’s not that,” she murmured before heading towards him. “You should go home. I’ll lock up.”

He studied her intently. “Are you feeling well, Mai? You’re acting strangely.”

“I’m fine, Father Francis. Can you get me some water? My throat is itchy,” she smiled.

“Of course. You’re probably getting that cold bug,” Francis confabulated while heading towards the back door with Mai shadowing him. “Doctor Baker told me he treated a few people with itchy throats. He said it’s the weather changing.” He opened the back door and stepped outside to the pump.

“Forgive me, father. I have to sin,” she shut the door behind him and put a chair under the knob.

“Hello, Miss Kipling?” Francis knocked on the door while Mai walked away. “Oh, you, teens, are funny with your jokes. May I come back inside? It’s raining and lightning out.”

The teen stood in front of the altar. She reached into her apron pocket to draw out a curved blade and stared at the wooden front door. Nothing but Mai’s heartbeat filled the air as she stood in wait.

The door burst open, causing it to break off its hinges and slide across the aisle. Mai’s eyes forced on the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway that gave her a sinister, toothy grin. He calmly walked forward as two more figures emerged from the rainy outdoors and followed.

“Shit,” she murmured as she aimed her blade at the figure who strode forward purposefully. “I suggest you take your partners and go. You’re not wanted here.”

The shadow stopped in front of the broken door and tilted his head at the red-haired woman. He lifted two fingers to his lips to hush her.

A floorboard creaked behind her. Mai spun around to the left to see one of the other figures standing there with a yellow-stained grin.

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