Father Alejandro Changrietta

The church is empty, the pews abandoned and dark. He stands behind the podium, hands on the edge, gripping. Gripping and grinding his teeth, his mind at war with that he knows to be the Devil's temptation. Il diavolo. La donna. Wicked, sinful.

He gnashes his teeth and breathes in. Breathes out. Counts the candles lit upon the altar as if their presence could keep the darkness away, even as their light seems to get dimmer. Turns a page. Reads more.

Groans and drops his head as he remembers.

Beautiful eyes. Long legs. Smooth thighs. He licks his lips, and curses. Winces. Reads more.

He is stronger than the temptation around him. Il diavolo. La donna.

He will not break.

It is a sunny afternoon when she first enters the church. Her smile is bright, and he is caught on that flash of white teeth. They seem sharp, but he dismissed the idea. She laughs with the older ladies, the abuelas loving her already. Her charm is… captivating. And so he observes. And then he notices.

The next Sunday she comes again. He takes her hand, greeting her. And she smiles and he is once again caught. He holds her hand for a beat too long, the moment poignant. The moment is snapped by the presence of a child running by. He looks at the little girl, and then back at her. He lets go of her hand.

He does not know why the moment sticks with him, but he ignores it. The church requires his attention, after all, and his sermon is delivered with passion and finality. She sits in the front row.

He notices.

She comes every Sunday, her presence settling into the church as easily as the cobwebs on the rafters. He is equally annoyed by both. However, he can't stand on the ladder and brush her away with the broom. She remains a distraction. A nuisance. A blot on a blank sheet of paper. Along with her comes news of strange things—odf things. Fish dying upon the shore, that same child falling ill...

He is… unsettled.

He tries to figure out what has caught his attention, why she doesn't seem to fit within this church of his. Why she meshes like an ill-fitting puzzle piece. She wears a skirt that Sunday, and he notices the exposed skin above her knees.

He wakes up the next Monday with crusted seed on his stomach, and a sinking feeling in his chest. He reads his Bible more fervently, prays more devotedly, and writes his sermon feverishly. He hopes that his pleas will be heard and that this unholy desire will be gone.

She wears a dress, and he catches a glimpse of her ass when she bends over to pick up her fallen Bible. He's painfully hard in an instant, shaking behind the podium as he tries not to imagine that ass turning red under his hand. He grips the pages hard enough that a small tear forms, and he stutters over his words. She seems oblivious, but he swears he can see a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

Alej has felt temptation. He has fought his way through it, knowing that God called to him, knowing that he was meant for something Higher. And yet he is being tested once again, despite the many challenges he has faced. Despite the faith he has upheld, despite the sacrifices he has made.

But this is beyond that. He fucks his hand each night, imagining that she's underneath him. His sleep is restless, her name on his lips like some sort of sick prayer. He sees her everywhere, her eyes reflecting back at him when he gazes in the mirror. She brings with her misfortune, and he is maligned. Cursed.

This must be a test, he concludes. A test set forth by God, to see how worthy he is. And Alej is worthy. He was meant for this role, meant to lead the people of this town in the name of God. He was meant to bear His will, and bid the people to listen to His words. He would not fail. He was strong. He had to be.

The strange occurrences happen more frequently, beyond the dreams and temptations he suffers at night. There has been an unsettling aura around them, as though the Great Evil was upon them. The village is in a state of unrest. Someone has gone missing, the fishing is poor... They are befouled by something. And Alej... Alej strongly suspects it may be her. And so he calls upon her after service, his heart racing. "Ciao, signorina. Will you give me a moment of your time?" Alej would have answers. That is the purpose of this, to discover if she is the devil's own. Not, or course, to have her alone for a moment. Dio mi dia la forza.