Cianni Williams

El Lobo en la Iglesia by Academy Monthly

“Madre María, lo siento. Dame perdón. I just need protection.”

The usual cold air lingers inside the ancient cathedral as the doors of Santo Angela de Foligno slam behind sixteen-year-old Dominicana Amayah Nunez.

The reason why she sought confession: a little knife. This barely seven-inch switchblade that a friend mysteriously obtained for her has driven her to seek shelter from sin. The fear of hurting someone she cares about barely overpowers her fear of adult men. The ones that wolf at her for developing curves as she makes her way to school.

The fear of being spoiled.

No one is around. The dimly lighted alter ahead is the only thing that can be seen. Jesús, José, y María. Amayah is as alone as she feels.

All of sudden, out of the confessional steps Father Lupus. A man from the homeland of República Dominicana. His broad figure stands over six feet; he’s physically imposing over everyone in the congregation. From his thick ebony hair, to his tawny brown skin, to the same dark hair that trails down his brawny arms. He doesn’t speak much, but, when he does, he’s able to command the sea like Moses.

Stepping into the dark box, Amayah shivers as she sits in the squeaking chair. The small box is barely big enough a person.

Darkness. The only thing that can be seen is the screen between them.
“Mi nina, di me all your sins, and you shall be forgiven.”
Silence, until-
“Dame perdón, Padre, for I have sinned. It’s been a three months since I’ve been in confessional.”
The stale air in the small dark box hangs above Amayah as she begins to collect her thoughts, to collect her sins.

“I... I went to school late three days in a row. I forgot to clean before leaving, and got into an argument with my mother... I... I’ve started to feel unsafe in my own city. I’ve begun to feel that no one is watching out for me...”

Amayah reaches for the blade in her pocket, clutching it for protection from the unknown threat.

Silence meets her again. Only the sounds of Father Lupus’ heavy breathing, his panting, is heard. Amayah looks over through the screen but cannot see anything but the yellow stained teeth of Lupus as he huffs, trying to compose himself for some reason. She doesn’t know why, but Amayah begins to prepare for a fight.

After more moments of silent, Father Lupus finally says, “You are never alone, porque our Lord is always with you. Make three Hail Marys, you shall be forgiven.”

“Muchas gracias, Padre.”

As she leaves the confessional to make her way to the pews in front of the statues, all Father Lupus can do is stare.

He holds the same stare those men do. The same stare that men give her as she walks down the street. The same thing that motivated the sinful tool inside of Amayah’s pocket.

No one knows about Father Lupus’ temptation: Amayah Nunez herself. She has sparked his interest ever since last year during her confirmation. After services, he would linger on her a little too long. Hold her hand a little too tight. Stand a little too close, barely containing his arousal.

As Amayah makes her way to the front pews to make her penance, Lupus stays in the shadows. Watching. Waiting. He lingers on her scent, his arousal grows as he gets closer to the pews.

Standing in front María of praying for guidance, Amayah is unaware of the internal battle in the man behind her.

When he gets closer, she can feel his hot breath on her neck. He is too close for comfort. He reaches out and caress one of her curls.

“P-Parde?”
It was all sudden. Amayah wasn’t prepared for what would happen next.

Lupus grabs her and throws her the ground. Bam. Amayah hits the floor hard. Shock. Lupus stands over her, towering over her, licking his lips.

“Mhm, you don't know how long I wanted this.”

He begins to unfasten his belt as he growls like a feral beast. All Amayah can do is whimper out a small plead for help. Her whimpers only make him get more aggressive. He crawls on top of her, and licks her neck, moaning with desire.

“No! Stop it!”cries Amayah.
The only response is a howl of laughter from the priest.
“You stupid, beautiful child. No one is here.”
His wolfish hands slide over breasts, ripping open her shirt, exposing her undergarments.

Only exciting him. Fear races through her veins--desire races through his. “No will hear you scream.”

His hands harshly run over her stomach, making their way to where they want to be. “You’re all mine. Finally, I can eat you up.”
It all happened so quickly. She didn’t know what overcame her.
One moment Lupus is dominating her. About to devour and deflower her. The next moment, Amayah is overpowering him.
Slash. The priest's abdomen is gashed open. Dios mío!

Lupus falls on his back, outstretched arms reaching on both sides, with a seven-inch gash in his middle. Amayah’s eyes flicker up to Jesús on the cross. Shakily, she crawls to the statue of Madre María, trying to catch her breath.

With her blood stained hands, Amayah raises prays.
“Madre María, lo siento. Dame perdón. I just need protection”