Visitor

A pronounced snap rang in Damian's ear, bringing him promptly back to reality.

*Flinch*

He jerked his head toward the noise immediately, only to see no one there.

'...what?'

'What was I doing just now?' He glanced around carefully.

Forcefully brushing off his unease, Damian attempted to identify his situation:

He was left speechless.

The room had changed. While he still remained in the church hall, certain features differed from earlier. The seats looked clean. The windows were pristine, without scratches or webbed cracks. Most importantly, however, his broken faceless friend was nowhere to be found—let alone any of his other stone companions. All but one remained. The figure whose eyes lay carved with the sun and moon stood in the center, taking the place of the statue that donned the simple crown.

'Where the hell am I?'

Fearfully backing away from where his faceless friend had 'supposedly' fallen, Damian began to hastily head for the new church doors. He nervously thought to himself:

'...I don't know what happened, but… problem solved! While I do consider myself quite the skilled cleaner—maybe even the best that has ever existed, the work done here definitely wasn't mine. Who cares though! I must've passed out and the church owner came in and fixed up the mess. Either way, the polish here is pretty incredible! I must've been out for a while too considering it looks like it's already passed noon. I should just head home and worry about all of this later… surely…'

Contrary to what he'd been telling himself, his unease still sat blatantly on his face and posture as he headed for the oak doors.

Upon arrival, he hesitated before finally peaking out from the church entrance—unduly cautious of what may greet him on the other side.

Unfortunately, the reality he denied had presented itself to him with open arms.

'...oh god.'

His run-down slum neighborhood no longer stood before him. A placid, eerie forest now took its place—surrounding him and the church. While the situation could not be explained, Damian could only make one assertion:

'...Where the hell am I?'

After studying the foreign environment, he closed the door carefully and urgently paced back to the podium. Elevating himself slightly, on the platform, he scanned the room.

'I'm sure no one would mind if I were to take a few things. I mean, no one even lives here in the first place, and considering that I've somehow left the walls of the city—it would be rude not to take something! Maybe even whatever that mother left behind could be of some use.'

— —

"Why can't I find anything!"

When Damian had gone on his tedious scavenger hunt for something useful, absolutely nothing had presented itself to him—let alone anything useful. Not to mention, throughout the whole of this strange experience, Damian couldn't help but feel… off. Like there was something wrong or foreign about him and his body. Nonetheless, this discomfort had to sit back while more pressing matters took over.

'This is ridiculous! This church doesn't even have a back room like the one from the slums! Useless! Absolutely Useless! And it's all your fault!'

Damian aggressively turned and stared down the lone statue. He stomped toward the stone figure.

"I don't know how you did it! But take me back home!"

The lofty stone stared back at him with indifference.

"Don't think I don't know what you're up to! I always knew you were different from the others! You wanted to play a stupid trick while I was knocked out, but I'm not buying it!" Damian hissed at the statue before going silent. His eyes trailed down to the platform the stone figure had been perched on.

"Ya know what. I think you need a little bit of punishment… After all, I need to be compensated somehow. Not to mention, if breaking a statue caused all of this...maybe if I do it again, it'll take me back?" A thoughtful grin formed on his face as he placed his hand on the stone.

-"Break it."-

"That's precisely what I was going to do… huh?"

Damian twisted his head toward the whispering voice but to no avail. He squinted and replied tentatively:

"...Right.."

Resuming his plan, Damian began pushing the statue onto its right side. Unfortunately, the towering figure did not yield its position.

"..Agh…Come on!...move, damn it!"

After several minutes of pushing, Damian then slipped and fell forward.

'How the hell did I knock down the previous statue?! And why does my body feel so strange!'

Damian growled, forcing himself up and beginning to make some distance with the stone. Giving himself a running start, he sprinted at the statue.

*THUD*

*CRACK*

The imposing statue finally gave in, collapsing onto the concrete—an exceedingly loud collision was heard across the forest.

"Hah! There's ya punishment."

Damian strolled toward the fallen stone figure. From within the cracks, light from the tall windows gathered—giving away the position of a single object.

'Well, this is unexpected. What the hell is up with all these statues?'

Grabbing a hold of the mystery resting within, he inspected the item:

A shard; akin to glass, clouded and surrounded by mundane leather. The reflection of the glass almost replicated that of a mirror. He peered into the glass, and his reflection peered back. Or at least what should have been his face. What stared back from the glass was a luxurious golden mask, bearing curved hollow eyes. Sharp and beautiful golden structures sprouted atop and behind the mask—roughly forming two horns; almost as if a crown inspired by feathers and flowers. His garments: a combination of armors and cloaks colored in black and maroon with a hint of gold—complementary to the mask. Damian blew an exasperated sigh:

"Hah…?"

He briefly scanned the room for a second mirror until his gaze stopped at one of the church's arched windows. In place of where he stood, the strange mask and clothing presented themselves. Everything about the design felt so harmoniously complex and captivating while also exuding a hint of unexplained peril and caution. Lastly, what had also gone blatantly unnoticed was his right hand: A beautifully intricate glove that while simple, felt oddly incomprehensible to Damian.

Damian studied his questionable appearance:

'It's actually not bad. In fact, I would say it's quite fashionable compared to some of the atrocities I see some Imprinted like to commit on propaganda these days. Someone seriously needs to stop some of them from choosing what they wear or someone is going to get hurt… Hell, that someone might even be me! Where's my compensation for that psychological harassment?'

'Nonetheless… how had I not noticed until now? It's a little surprising that I couldn't even tell after this whole time that I was wearing a mask and armored suit if not for the mirror. Well… actually, yes I have noticed. While it may not have been the clothing itself, my entire mind and body have simply felt… odd? Uncomfortable? Ahh… that's not quite it. I just feel so… foreign. Gosh, ever since I broke that faceless statue, too many strange things have been happening. Let's just get a move on.'

At the end of Damian's mostly senseless ranting, a deafening sinister cry was heard outside the church. Instinctive fear flooded his mind; freezing him in place.

Subtle footsteps could be heard from beyond the wall closest to him. The walking stopped. With his gaze locked on the floor, Damian carefully closed his eyes and recited from within; a silent prayer was heard across the church hall. But there was no one. All but a fallen statue—mocking his hypocrisy.

-"Look up."-

As for his whispering friend, it appeared to have fallen on deaf ears…

*Flinch*

Damian carefully opened his eyes and adjusted his perspective. Anxiety ached throughout his body as he examined the room. At the nearest window, however, he saw it…

A pair of harrowing eyes stared into him from the outside. It Peaked just around the edge of the glass, leaving only the upper half of the face visible. A purely white face, surrounded by pitch-black fur. Its eyes were sunken and restless—almost like it had gone weeks without sleep. The pupils were minuscule compared to the incredible size of the white sclera surrounding it. The strange figure lay completely still. A palpable feeling of insanity built in the atmosphere between it and Damian.

*GASPS*

Within seconds of this encounter, Damian began to hyperventilate violently. Eventually unable to stand the pressure, he dove for the podium that previously held the now collapsed statue. All that could be processed in his crumbling mind was the simple phrase from his quiet observer:

-"Hide."-

'I-I need to leave this place. I can't stay here.'

Damian continued to remain still, huddled behind the podium of a fallen god. The time around him seemed to pass by endlessly—his eyes continuously observing the windows opposite of the horror across.

— —

'...I think I can check now.'

After a long and stressful wait, Damian finally peaked toward the window where 'it' had appeared. However, no creature could be spotted.

*Sigh*

He slumped over, intensely relieved, but disheartened by the horrors hiding within the forest.

'What the hell am I gonna do… Should I stay here and eventually starve? Or do I leave this forsaken church and try to find a way home.'

Absent-minded, Damian continued to stare out of the tall church windows—occasionally choosing a different window each time his chapped eyes gave in. After a while of mindless observation, however, his bloodshot eyes strained wide open. Frantically pulling himself off the ground, he rushed toward a window roughly opposite where the harrowing creature had made its first appearance. He could see something. Something to ignite his hope once again. Smoke. Normally this wouldn't mean much, but to Damian, this could mean one thing.

Humans.