Church on a Thursday Afternoon by Jessica Gleason

Father Smith struggled with his faith,

not his dedication to God, but

his dedication to the cloth.

 

It wasn’t that he yearned

for pleasures of the flesh, no,

he was attracted to women, but

lack of family was his one major regret.

 

He could have one, in theory,

could settle down with a kind, sturdy

ginger-haired woman, one devoted

to the Lord and to their marriage.

 

He could father children too,

if he removed the robes,

went plain-clothed into

the secular world, breaking

his vows, his sacred promises.

 

But his God was a forgiving

one. If he repented, and truly

meant it, surely his sins

would wash clean. Still,

he wasn’t ready to leap.

 

He enjoyed spreading the good word.

The parishioners doted on him,

filling him with their kind

words and decadent baked goods.

Days like today, though, tested his resolve.

 

***

 

No one had found Jeremy Schall’s

body, he’d simply vanished,

but to gain closure, the family

needed a memorial. Father Smith performed

a corpse-less service in Jeremy’s honor.

 

“They finally released my boy’s

mixed tape, the one found near the mine.

Do you think, father, that we can play it,

in Jeremy’s honor?”

 

Uncertain what the tape contained,

Father Smith was hesitant, but eventually

relented to the grief-stricken woman.

 

She placed her 1980’s boombox

near the pulpit, pressing play;

as soft drumming blasted into the drafty

church, shadows closed in, blocking each

stained glass window, blotting out the sun.

 

Shrieks echoed off the vaulted ceiling,

when inky black tentacles shattered the church glass,

snaking their way in and snuffing out so many

half-lived lives, including the wifeless, regret-filled priest.

 

In his final moments, Father Smith didn’t

pray, didn’t cry out to his Lord and savior, instead,

poisoned by resentment, he screamed an angry, “Fuck you.”

Picture of Jessica Gleason

Jessica Gleason

Jessica Gleason finds writing horror therapeutic. So, she puts her nightmares to paper for your enjoyment. As a Hawaiian-Italian, she often draws from her cultural background and lived experience to bring occult-flavored and slasheriffic horror to life. If you look hard enough, you can catch her singing hair metal karaoke somewhere between Chicago and Milwaukee. Her daytime persona is a college professor in the American Midwest. Jessica's recent releases include Playing Hooky (Unnerving Books), and The Dangerous Miss Ventriloquist (Evil Cookie Publishing). Follow her on Instagram or Threads (@j.g.writes), where she hosts the #WeWriteHorror challenge.

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