Love And Life And Demon Hunting

Father Cyprus Gray knew something was going on his town. A small, quiet, highly religious Oregon town where hardly anything ever happened was where he made his home. They lived on the ocean, but it was rarely angry. Usually, it was just serene and calm. It was good to the town, and Cyprus believed it was because God smiled on them.

However, as of late, people had been disappearing. Just getting up and going to see a friend, and then disappearing completely. Three, it was now. Three people who just up and left. None of them were even connected. It was a mystery that screamed unnatural. This is what caught his attention. It didn't seem normal; something was different about this.

Cyprus grew more determined by the day to find out what it was, and finally, on a Monday, he got up and got dressed and headed down to the beach where the police were doing their investigation. Normally, he was a law abiding man. However, on matters that concerned the supernatural, he could make an exception. He would get into that crime scene no matter what.

Luckily for him, the police officers were nowhere to be found when he arrived at the beach. It was as serene as always, save for the yellow tape. It was a small beach, hardly even a hundred yards long. Jagged rocks cut it off on either side, making it rather enclosed. He looked around, to make sure he wasn't being watched, before he took off his shoes and socks and folded up his trouser pants. Then, carefully, he moved over the tape and began his investigation.

Unfortunately for him, there was already someone there. A lone man stood by the water, wearing neither shirt nor shoes; the waves washed over his ankles, soaking the bottom of his jeans. Even the pale, early morning light, his hair was revealed to be the oddest component of his appearance; it was dyed bright hues of red and blue.

Giles Priestly took a deep breath and stretched before bending over, looking closely where the waves met the shore. He picked up a seashell and examined it closely, smiling peacefully. He looked both at home on this beach and like a foreign outsider.

Cyprus wrinkled his nose in distaste. The person appeared to be a teenager who was just looking for a thrill. He probably thought crossing over police lines was "SO DANGEROUS AND COOL". Cyprus knew how teenagers thought, unfortunately; he ran a Youth Group for the damned kids.

"Hey, you're not supposed to be here." He said, crossing his arms. Being a priest gave him plenty of leeway; he could use it as an excuse for just about anything. This would be one of those times. Hopefully it would scare away the hooligan and he could continue his investigation in peace.

"You're not a cop, either," replied the man calmly, turning to beam at Father Gray. "So I guess we can just break the rules together, hmm? I don't blame you for crossing the line--it's a fine day. Been years since I've seen the ocean, too."

"There are plenty of other strips of ocean you could have gone to!" He insisted. "But you had to choose the one with the yellow tape. Obviously, you're a criminal. Get out of here."

He put his hands on his hips and said, "I'm a priest, I got permission to come here. Unlike you, hooligan."

"No you didn't," he replied. "Why would they give permission like that to a priest? Ludicrous--the state has no love for the church, these days. You're in the same position I am--a curious man of the cloth intruding on a crime scene. Not that the police will find anything, no matter how hard they look."

He took a deep breath, relishing the taste of the salty air.

"Say, want to get some breakfast when we're done here? You can show me a good place to eat."

"Excuse me?" He asked, raising a blond eyebrow. "You, a man of the cloth? Now you're just insulting my intelligence. Of course I won't show you where to get breakfast, that's absurd!"

He grinned, turning around and holding up a rosary.

"Would you like to see my tattoos as well? I don't know, I think I'm the one who should be suspicious. You haven't shown me any proof of your priesthood."

He glowered at the man, unbuttoning his dress shirt so as to retrieve his own rosary.

"If you insist, I have my ID card, too." He said plainly. "If you insist on staying here, then at least tell me what's going in. Since, you seem to have some sort of idea."

"You have pretty skin," he commented. "And I'm just here to watch the sunrise--though, I suppose you aren't fooled by that? I'll admit I have a secondary motive, and I'm guessing it's close to yours.

"The disappearances around here are becoming all too frequent, right? Strange times we're living in."

"Yes, strange indeed." He commented, buttoning up his shirt and putting his rosary away. "If that's all you have to say, then why are you here? If you know something, then just tell me. Stop wasting my time."

He glanced over his shoulder, checking to see if anyone was coming. Of course, the police would be arriving again eventually.

"Oh, I don't know much--that's why I'm hear. To learn things. I'm a learner." He picked up another seashell, examined it, and then chucked it into the ocean. "Do you know anything, or are you a learner too?"

"I came here to investigate it for myself. Everyone who disappeared...I knew them." He said, toying with the buttons on his see-through dress shirt. "So I want to figure out who has been killing them. Or, I suppose, what. Depending on the circumstances, and in this case, it's likely it was a what."

"Oh, it's certainly a what," he said brightly. "People are far more sloppy...I have faith in the law when it comes to Earthly matters. Of course, that's why I'm here. Really, we should get breakfast--what was your name, you said?"

"I didn't tell you, nor do I plan to." He said plainly. "And I most definitely do not plan on going to breakfast with you. Besides, I have breakfast in my pocket."

What he meant is that he had a melty Mars Bar in his pocket.

He laughed.

"Why would you turn down a friendly invitation like that? I'm intend to pay, if that's what you're wondering--I merely want a good place to eat and some pleasant, interesting company."

He rolled his eyes.

"Fine, if you insist, then we'll go get breakfast. Then we'll figure out what's going on." He said sternly.

"Excellent," he said, licking the salt from his lips. "I'm starved, lemme grab my shoes and shirt--you drive here, Father?"

"No, I can't drive." He said, grimacing slightly. He was somewhat embarrassed that he didn't drive, but he tried to pretend he wasn't. "I'll put my shoes back on."

He walked over to the tape and crossed back over, bending over to put his shoes and socks back on.

"Excellent again," he chuckled. "I'll drive us. It's a rental, so be kind to her." He gracefully stepped under the yellow tape and made his way to a small black Honda.

"So, where are we going? I am the tourist, after all."

"It depends; we have a diner around here, but there's also an Ihop, of course." He explained, unfolding his suit pants. "I prefer the diner; the people there are wonderful. They go to my church, and they're the most wonderful people."

He smiled to himself, picking up the Mars Bar that had fallen out of his pocket onto the ground.

"The diner it is, then!" he decided brightly. "I do so enjoy people--maybe you can introduce me to some of the locals? I love making new friends, Father Nameless."

"My name is Cyprus Gray." He said finally. "I insist you call me Cyprus. However, yes, I will introduce you to some of the people here. They're all very friendly. Albeit, a bit spooked due to the recent disappearings, of course. If they seem unfriendly, that's probably why."

"Ah, I understand completely, Father Mars Bar," he said, getting behind the wheel shirtless and barefoot.

"...what." He got into the passengers side, frowning. "That is not my name. Furthermore, why are you not wearing shoes or a shirt? You can't get into the diner like that."