Chapter Text
***WARNING*** Graphic violence.
"It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you make it a den of robbers."
Matthew 21:13
Bethany had taken the news very well, of course. To her, it was the most romantic thing she had ever heard, which she made very clear, over and over, until Elijah had stepped out to take some air.
They walked together now; under the warm glow of streetlights that painted them softer than was true. There was a chill, evident by the way people were hugging their jackets that little bit closer. Music and laughter spilled out of a bar, and Bethany talked as she always did when excited-- quick, looping, filling silence before it settled. "I've missed this," she smiled, linking arms with Elisa. Their heels clicked in sync, Elijah's Oxford's falling a beat slower. He carried a brown sack over his shoulder. "Now that I've found your beloved," her eyes flicked back to Elijah momentarily, "How about I stick around? You look like you could use some girl time." She side eyed Elisa's hair.
Elijah clicked his tongue, "You couldn't stick nowhere even if you was made of glue."
"Eli," Elisa warned, though did nothing to hide a smirk.
"I'm free spirited-- I go where the fun is," Bethany shot back, "You should try having some."
"Your kinda fun brings trouble."
Bethany rolled her eyes, steering Elisa a little closer to the curb as a couple passed. "We are trouble, Elijah. If you hadn't noticed."
Suddenly, Elisa halted, causing Bethany to stumble half a step. Elisa turned, looking dead into her face, elbow locking her into place. "There will be no trouble tonight," she commanded, the façade of a woman crumbling. Her voice was low, precise-- final. Elijah melted into the background, watching with a tight jaw. "If I have to leave this city-- leave Vlad-- then I will kill you as easily as I made you."
Bethany parted her lips to say something, but red nails came up to place a finger over them.
"And in hell you will be in that convent, Bethany." The words came intimately now, more regrettable fact than threat. "No one will come for you," she prophesized on a tongue of ice, "Except maybe God."
Bethany flinched, eyes wide and heavy. A deer caught in headlights.
"And I will not save you from him this time." A short pause, and then, "Do you understand?"
"Y-yes, Mistress," Bethany breathed.
Elisa pulled back, blinking into a warm smile, "Good." She continued walking, arm supporting Beth, who had become weak in the knees.
Elijah fell back into step, close enough this time to gently brush Bethany's shoulder. Brief, deliberate. Enough to let Bethany know that he was there, and that she was ok. She didn't look at him, but she didn't swear at him either. It was practically a confession of love between the two.
In near silence, they came upon the church. It rose pale and immovable against the night. The doors were thrown open in welcome. Elijah dropped the sack, and they all slipped off their shoes. Handfuls of earth were taken from the sack and compacted down into the bottoms of them. After this, they slipped them back on, and both offspring glanced to their Mistress.
"Clean kills, no screams. We burn the bodies before the building."
And then they entered holy ground.
The threshold did not resist them-- even an unspoken invitation would do. No heat, no sting, only the faintest pressure, like a held breath, as the packed earth in their soles took the weight meant for consecrated stone. Candles flickered but did not gutter. The bells did not ring. God, it seemed, was looking elsewhere. There were four in total. Three in the pews and two, priest included, in the confession box. Those mutterings ultimately would not matter, for God only listened when it suited him. Elijah and Bethany split like shadows, walking the length of the chamber to ensure there were no other exits. Elisa lingered, and with their silent go ahead, latched shut the doors behind her.
And ripped off the handle.
Heads turned at the sound. A murmur rose from the pews, faint, hesitant. Then another. Panic snaked up the aisle until finally, the priest peered from his box. He was met with candlelight glinting in amber eyes.
"This one's yours, Beth," Elisa's voice cut through the hollow promise of sanctuary, door handle thudding against stone.
In a heartbeat, Bethany appeared in front of him. "Have you said your Hail Marys, father?" she hissed, and silenced the scream before it could leave his lips. Her hand struck with such force that it crumpled through his forehead, but she grabbed anyway, hooking fingers into fragmented bone and pulsing brain to drag the twitching body from the confession box.
Simultaneously, Elijah had broken the neck of another in the pews. Quick and painless.
Elisa blurred up the aisle, teeth inside the larynx of her prey before he even knew she was there. She ripped him open, air whispering from a gaping voice box, blood bubbling as he tried to cry out. Elisa ate into his flesh until she found the carotid artery, covering her cheeks and chin in thick, hot blood.
The priest thudded to the floor, discarded and hemorrhaging. Bethany stepped slowly into the confession box. On the other side, the second occupant cowered, red hair falling across wet cheeks, eyes squeezed shut to pretend she wasn't there. Bethany leaned close, voice soft, almost mocking. "So what was it then? You cheat on your husband or something?" She bared growing fangs, "Don't cry, love, men were made for fucking." The quiet terror that followed was absolute.
Quickly, Elijah advanced. He gave one swift stomp to the priest's skull, as if putting a dying animal out of its misery. Then, he leaned into the box to address Bethany. "Don't play with your food, your dinner's goin' cold." He nodded his head back to the priest.
Beth glared at him, then to the woman through the latticed wood. "Lucky girl. My acquaintance will give you a good death," she pushed Elijah out of the way, "But not a very fun one." She muttered before picking up a leg to stand over the body of the priest. Then squatting down, she lapped up the warm puddle of blood and drained what was left.
Meanwhile, Elisa drank, clutching the man tight enough to leave bruises; had there been enough blood to leave them. He tried to fight initially, but very quickly, blue eyes rolled to the back of his head, hands stopped thumping, and urine dribbled down his trouser leg. Elisa had a thirst big enough to suck him dry in seven gulps.
Elijah emerged from the confessional, wiping a trickle of blood from his chin with the back of his hand. Bethany threw her head back, crimson spraying like fireworks. Her fangs gleamed in the candlelight, the scent of copper thick in the air. Her eyes caught Elijah's for a brief moment, then she returned to her meal. Elijah flared his nostrils as he walked past the mess, approaching Elisa. "Last one's for you," he said, taking the weight of the drained corpse off her hands.
Elisa shook her head, letting him take the carcass. "We'll share," she replied, then called over to Beth.
Beth kept sucking, licking, biting the priest-- desecrating him entirely.
Elijah dragged and dumped the carcass into the confession box with the redhead woman. He tapped Beth's shoulder on his way back over to the pews. "He's drained, come on."
Beth groaned, but ultimately relented in favour of the final act.
All three vampires congregated in the aisle. Elisa took one wrist, and Elijah the other, whilst Bethany, with her particular tastes, took the femoral artery. They drank together like predators at the watering hole-- slow, and savoring this time. A growl from Bethany vibrated low in her throat, reverberating against stone. But even she, wild and unruly as she was, moved in sync, hands and mouth steady. The scent of iron and unholy devotion clung to the air, thick enough to taste. For a moment, all three were a single, terrifying unit, each attuned to the other. To the rhythm of the kill, to the slow, sweet siphoning of life. Elijah watched Elisa, the way her jaw flexed as she drew blood into herself, every muscle taut. Her eyes flicked up briefly, and a shiver ran down his spine. Not fear, not desire, exactly, but recognition of the force she wielded. And when Elijah saw satisfaction seep into those amber eyes, he felt his flesh responding. He watched her until the last drop passed her lips.
The bodies were piled into the confession box, and the candles made useful. They stayed until the flames had done their work, and then went about burning another house of God. Beth was quiet for the rest of the evening.
By the following week, an informational pamphlet on candle safety in places of worship would circulate, and specs of soil would be found within the church ruins.