Chapter Text
Three months ago
She doubled over in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks. Eyes heavy with the weight of grief, as the inevitable was well on its way to completion. Her hand fell over the small swell of her belly. Pain, now coming in sharp waves. Like an ocean of knives determined to take its pound of flesh.
Her knees hit the floor, hands wrapped around her middle and the sounds of her crying desperately trying to drown out the words of sympathy. The blood continued dripping along the white bathroom tile. Calling attention to her loss as she heard their voices. Well intentioned words, conjured from unassuming lips, that echoed in her mind.
"Everything happens for a reason…"
"Some things are just not meant to be."
"God has a plan."
It was over before it began.
Present Day
It had been raining for weeks. The clouds squeezed for every last drop and the shining sun, refusing to come out from hiding. The morning downpour had turned into midday afternoon showers as Primo silently cursed Satanas for his aching joints. The weather changes, making him painfully aware of each passing moment spent in his mortal coil. A reminder that he was still somewhat human, unrelenting and bleak. He was getting older, a man now well into his sunset years and finally able to enjoy the well-earned spoils of his retirement from the Papacy.
It had taken decades for his father to release control. A long overdue ascension that had only come after years of fighting with the Ministry. A power now all but led by Sister Imperator, his father’s former lover. Primo had done his best, serving as Papa for many years before resurrecting the Ghost project.
It was not his choice but regardless he was successful. Ghost taking off in directions that only time would tell. A bright future for the Ministry burning like the fires of Hell that lay beyond Charon’s ride. When the time came however, Primo was more than happy to relinquish control to his brother Secondo. His reign, followed soon after by their other brothers Terzo and then Copia—the last of the Emeritus bloodline.
Primo was, for all intents and purposes, happy. The Ghost project, reaching new heights in Copia’s capable hands. Leaving Primo to spend his time how he truly preferred, among his plants and nature. Occasionally communing with the spiritual realm and preparing his weekly Black Mass as he lived out the rest of his days. His life, having been up to this point full.
Primo grew up wanting for nothing. His beloved mother, the last of the Prime Movers, had assured him a coveted education and apprenticeship with the finest necromancers, seers, and casters the Ministry could offer. He grew up with nobility in name, but his strength of character and his actions proved his right to the respect bestowed upon him. A respect shared by every congregant, sibling of sin, clergyman, and ghoul within the Ministry.
His happiest of days were spent raising his two younger brothers whose mothers had been unable and Nihil, incapable of raising by himself. He had hoped that his time now would be a return to solace and enrichment without the pressures of the Papacy. Something, however, had still felt unfulfilled. A gnawing in his stomach that told him a piece was still missing, one he might not ever obtain.
A thought buried deep inside his mind, hiding beneath the dirt and soil he worked so hard to till. The like seeds he planted tirelessly, for the sake of promised beauty. But for now, the rain still fell. Primo peered out the large parlor window of his quarters, sipping on his favorite herbal tea and watching as the old bus pulled up in front of the Abbey.
“Oh Lucifer, that's today?" he sighed, his thoughts recalling an all but forgotten meeting with the Clergy about receiving a set of fresh would-be siblings—now only capable sinners. Primo stood up from his chair, bone cracking as he went upright and headed out towards the main hall. He adjusted his collar and quickly smeared on his corpse paint before he left. While he would prefer to stay confined to his rooms on a day like today, it was expected of him to greet them.
Along with the other former living Papas, Primo would welcome them to the beginning of their new lives. One outside of God's watchful eye and held in darkness. He arrived downstairs just as they were filing out of the cabin. Terzo and Secondo, already waiting for them on the stairs. The two of them like hungry wolves, eyeing the group for their next bed mate.
“Another flock for which to shepard huh old man.” Terzo mused, a smile on his face as one of the women glanced his way. Ever the charismatic lover, Primo knew he’d make his way through the new recruits as fast as one takes to breath—his lust essential to his being.
“Ah si, but will you allow them to make it to their vows before having them singing praises to Asmodeus from your bed chambers fratellino?” Primo asked, clearing his throat as Terzo rolled his eyes. A typical gesture from the Third Emeritus son to be sure, though Primo paid him no mind. While he loved him dearly Primo couldn't help but still see his younger brother as an obstinate child. Forever in pursuit of Lust above all things. Primo wondered how, despite his best efforts, his middle siblings turned out more like Nihil than either would care to admit.
It was times like this he missed Copia, who just happened to be on the first leg of rituals. His first tour as Papa, for which Primo was very proud. It had only been recently that he had learned of the former Cardinal’s parentage and despite their not having grown up together, Primo felt just as close with Copia as he did the others. Maybe even more so, since they both shared a distinct distaste for Nihil that was like no other.
As the last of those from the bus had stepped off, the brothers were happy to welcome home Mr. Saltarian. The man in charge of bringing the group to the Abbey and Primo’s dearest old friend. As he approached the first Emeritus son smirked, “Well now…they just allow anyone to recruit new siblings during these times hmm.”
“Well we are surely in times of turmoil my friend and well someone has to do it, it might as well be me.” Saltarian chuckled, raising an eyebrow and throwing his arm around Primo. The two men, sharing a hug before Mr. Saltarian headed inside. Not but a moment later, he returned, this time with Sister Imperator in tow. She was looking especially severe. Her hair pulled back tight and working her favorite charcoal pantsuit and red heels as she walked carefully down the entryway stairs. She began clapping her hands as she reached the drive, trying to gain the crowd's attention before beginning to speak.
“Yes, attention. Welcome, welcome all Seminarians and Novitiate. I am Sister Imperator, the Abbess of this Abbey. Today we will settle you all into your dormitories with the other siblings. You will take the opportunity to rest and unpack. Tomorrow we begin your final training and preparations for full conversion. Now if you will please follow me.” she explained, everyone following her inside.
Primo watched and nodded as the crowd entered the Abbey. The would-be siblings were excited to see the Emeritus sons in person. Most of them, smiling and nodding in reverence as they passed by. It was during this time he caught a glimpse of her—a would-be sister hiding amongst them. Her face was soft, and round. Thick black lashes surrounding eyes of honey brown that matched the golden brown locks from her head. Soft curls that hit just at her waist, seeming to bounce a bit as she walked. The standard crimson and black robes of the tributes, adorned in gold Grucifix embroidery, fitting a bit tight against her ample bosom. A quiet and melancholic demeanor, which may have kept her overlooked from others, calling attention to Primo. Her pale delicate features and withdrawn appearance like a beacon against the smiles and conversations of those around her.
Primo was entranced. There was something about her that made him want to know more. A needy feeling gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. He felt drawn to her, her very soul seeming to be reaching out to him he thought when he was abruptly forced back into reality by a swat to the shoulder.
“Losing focus, fratello?” Secondo laughed, biting his lip as he contemplated his first moves with a number of the new recruits. His intensions worn openly as he practically fucked them with his eyes as they walked in.
“Hardly.” Primo responded as Mr. Saltarian went to stand beside him. “ Salare, who is that woman?” he asked him. Primo’s eyes, never leaving the woman in the crowd. Saltarian tried looking around attempting to see anything that stood out to him.
“You’re gonna have to be more descriptive than that.” he laughed. Primo pressed his lips together in annoyance as the woman that had captured his attention reached the doorway and disappeared inside.
“The one in the back with the longer hair, solemn looking and quiet?” he continued, hoping that would be enough for his friend to figure it out. Saltarian got quiet, nodding to him just before he spoke.
“That's Novitiate Guinevere. Most of the group calls her Gwen not that she really talks to anyone. She’s quiet that one Papa. Why do you ask?” Mr. Saltarian inquired.
“Oh…It is nothing…just a funny feeling.”