The room was so dark that James couldn’t see the bed he was tied to. The absurd scenario had become an ongoing theme for several nights now. Prayers and exhaustion usually tempered his perturbed cravings but since arriving to Georgia, the Lord was no longer enough. Lately, the dream would start the same. He’d wake up, his legs and arms bound by an invisible thread tied to the posts of a blurred bed. Fabric would be tightly bound around his mouth, muffling whatever noise he would make. He would lift his head to try and see anything in the room but only his bruised naked body was visible. In these dreams, James felt a rush of sensations; hunger, lust, envy, and wrath wrapped in a haze that inflicted a symphony of pain and pleasure. It felt good but it had its consequence. The culprit, be it his Id or something, left scratches and bruises and handprints. James believed…no, James hoped that whatever it may be, that it would be Claude. Or at least a projection or imagining—anything, he just wanted it to be him. Except it wasn’t him. Tonight, the haze that presented comfort and pleasure was no longer cloaked. It sat on the edge of the bed. Waiting. 

The Thing was hunched over. Its skin was murky but iridescent like scales glittering in moonlight. Its long, ginger hair cascaded limply down to where Its waist should be. James tried his best to shout but the gag around his mouth obstructed the noise. The Thing quickly turned to James; its face obscured by the wall of hair, yet Its glowing yellow eyes met with James’s. Though Its face remained concealed, James knew It was smiling at him. He tried his best break free from his invisible shackles, but it was no use. The Thing skulked towards him on all fours, Its hair brushing up James’s legs then hips and then torso as It glided. 

“shh,” It hissed, “you’ve never rejected me before.”

With claw-like hands, the Thing stroked James’s cheek, sounding genuinely hurt from his response. They felt cold. James, still panicked, stopped screaming. The voice was disturbing but lulling at the same time. Instinctively, his body relaxed and ceased escape. 

“there, there… see. I’m not here to harm you. I just need to feed.”

            The Thing lowered Its head to James’s chest and delicately licked between his pecks. Its mouth left a slimy film as It descended to his stomach as if it were a snail leaving behind a trail. Its mouth left an extreme cold sensation that stung upon touch. James unconsciously yelped as the Thing’s mouth kissed his navel and continued to trail down. It was no longer visible. James tried to raise his head and catch a  glimpse of the figure, but Its hair now draped over his body and Its head. Its hands gripped his thighs and slowly spread them. James trembled as Its nails scratched against his skin feeling disturbed yet excited. He could sense the blood rush to his member in an anticipation that felt familiar. “I’ll make sure to leave it somewhere less visible this time,” It breathed with icy air against skin. The Thing wrapped one of its arms to each of James’s leg and rest the hands on the inner thighs splaying them open. Suddenly, It sunk Its nails, breaking the skin and into his flesh. 

To his own horror, James felt a moan escape his mouth. The Thing whinnied a strange laugh as It grazed Its lips past the bits of pubic hair and finally kissing the now erect James. Its mouth burned upon contact and stirred his body into a frenzy. It was intoxicating. An overwhelming mixture of phantom touches and an arctic heat blended with the stings on his flesh. It was difficult to explain what it felt like. The Thing didn’t bob Its head or provide intimate pleasure but instead felt clinical. To James, it felt like It was looking for something that could only be reached with his own genital and whatever the Thing had for a mouth. “Mmm,” he gasped through the gag.  James closed his eyes as he tried to move his waist to create some form of rhythm, but the Thing sunk Its nails deeper. 

“feeling zealous, are we?”

 It hissed causing James’s eyes to dart open. It began to move slowly causing disgusting sounds in the otherwise complete silence. James threw his head back in ecstasy. His panted breath growing heavier and heavier. 

“why do you insist I inflict pain?”

It sank its claws harder into James. He cried out with that pathetic muffled pant, drunk in lascivious phrenzy. The Thing chuckled and steadily reverted to harsher rhythmic movements. 

“Are you going to wake up tomorrow thinking I’m your lover again?”

It began to unhurriedly scratch across James’s thighs deep enough to draw blood. James screamed. It hurt. It hurt so badly but he could feel himself reaching the point of climax. Tears fell from his eyes as the Thing giggled ripping through his flesh. James’s breathing quickly increased to hyperventilation. However, it was in this state that he whimpered and ejaculated. It cackled while It seized every drop of liquid dripping from his penis. 

“did you like it?”

 James still panting covered in sweat drowsily nodded. The Thing retracted its claws from James and rose from his between his legs. With Its face still obscured, It hissed

“Thank you for the meal, segan. Would you like to go again?”

To this James shook his head. He was still dazed and weakened from this strange experience. If this was a dream made from his perverse subconscious machination, he would prefer to wake up now. 

“what a shame… hopefully this isn’t forever.”

Somehow the alarm clock had shaken itself onto the floor. James flashed his eyes open to the bedroom he’d been occupying now a little more than two weeks. He panted heavily as the alarm continued to loudly ring on the floor, vibrating a bit of the wood underneath it. He took in a deep breath and exhaled as he sat up. He hesitantly shook his bare legs from underneath the bed comforter and placed his feet on the vibrating wood. He leaned down and shut the damn thing off. It was 7:02. Shit, he thought to himself, Otto was going to come any minute. He ambled over to the ensuite bath and flashed on the light. As he walked to the sink to shave, his own reflection disturbed him. His skin looked ghastly with its color drained and dark circles ringing around his puffy eyes. James put the back of his hand to his face—it felt colder than usual. 

As he tried to wave it off as disrupted sleep, James began to shave his face. He turned the faucet and let the sound of running water accompany that of his razorblade. He then brushed his teeth avoiding looking into the mirror. In the silence, he couldn’t help but recount his strange dream. Haphazardly, he pomaded his hair back, afraid of catching a glimpse of the creature on the reflection. As he exited the bathroom, James could hear the slamming of the door downstairs. James was rolled his eyes then proceeded to take off his nightshirt and boxers to change into his priestly dress. That is, until something caught his eye. There were many visible thin red lines tracked across his upper thighs like ribbons. A lump grew in his throat, as he quickly threw on his clothes. Out of sight, out of mind. 

“The Church must open strictly at eight, Father James,” barked Otto as James made his way downstairs. He took a deep breath, sitting at the bottom steps to slip on his dress shoes. “You know I am going to have to report to the diocese if you continuously—Dear Lord, you look even worse.” Otto’s words felt strangely comforting as if it were a form of confirmation bias. James glanced up at him and replied, “I’m sorry. I slept through my alarm ringing.”

“What is happening? Are you drinking again?”

“What do you mean again?”

Otto leaned in and sniffed James he had the previous week. “At least you just smell of aftershave.” James waved him off and stood up from the steps. 

“Once more what do you mean by ‘again’? Having drinks with a friend is not alcoholism.” 

“There were about ten bottles emptied. Thank goodness none of them were church wine. Regardless, unless your friend can drink nine bottles in a sitting, it quite disturbing a fellow priest is drinking that many units.”

James was starting to march towards the kitchen when Otto once more interjected. “Where are you going? It’s a little over twenty minutes till we open the church.”

“I wanted to at least grab a banana, Otto. I haven’t eaten yet.”

“That’s too bad. Should’ve not drank last night.”

“I didn’t.”

“Then why do you look like Weary Willy? If you need help with substances addiction, I am thinking of opening a chapter of Alcoholic Anony—” 

By that point in his speech, James had already begun to make his way out the door and towards the church. He sped towards the back entrance and into the humid building then into the backroom. He glimpsed at an image of crucified Christ. He sighed thinking that while he may not have a crown thorns, James had a thorn on his side. 

The remainder of the week followed this pattern. Horrible dreams, oversleeping, and Otto yelling. At least, as James’s face continued to drain away, Otto grew concerned for his colleague and elicited the vigilance of Miss Sharon who, though reluctantly, concurred Otto’s concerns. 

“Is it a heat?” Miss Sharon inquired placing in front of James a tall glass of lemonade. The two of them sat on her porch a particularly hot Tuesday afternoon. Otto pushed James to take a day off to rest making James even more anxious and jittery. 

“No, it isn’t the heat. The weather is hot but not unbearable. I’ve just had a lot on my mind.” he replied taking a sip.

“That’s not what I asked. Are you going to have your…” Miss Sharon paused and ten turned in a whispered tone, “heat coming in or are you sticking the that horrid word, rut?”

“Oh, my Lord, Miss Sharon. Can we not talk about that?” 

“You’re still young and without a mate so when these things come in, we know how they show up.”

James turned to Miss Sharon with a playful but annoyed face and replied, “I think this is something I’d rather keep to myself thank you. And if you are still curious, no. I am not scheduled till the end of this month.”

“That’s just a week’s away! Where in the world are you going to coop yourself up?”

“It will be the start of my two-month leave and sabbatical. Plenty of time to go through it and recover.”  

Miss Sharon took a sip of her drink, likely spiked with a little whiskey. “You know,” she began with a bouncy tone in her voice, “You don’t have to go back to Providence. I have the keys to the old house here. You can spend a bit more time with us countryfolk.” 

“No one’s lived in that house for fifteen years. Who know what state it’s in.”

“Well,” she said in her continuously bouncy tone, “what if I say your daddy’s been taking care of the property.”

“What do you mean?” 

“He heard that you were coming down here for the summer and well, took care of the house.”

James turned to Miss Sharon, now truly annoyed and asked, “What did you tell him?” 

“Nothing! Just that you were coming back home for a bit.” 

“Did he fix the house thinking I’d change my mind about the priesthood?” Miss Sharon sat quiet, sipping her drink, and staring directly ahead avoiding James’s gaze.  “I am almost forty years old! I think I would’ve changed my mind by now! You cannot keep giving him hope.”

“I think he just feels guilty, James. When Lucy ran off, all he did was chase after her. When she died, all he did was mourn her. I think now as an old man, he’s looking back and seeing that he should’ve spent more time on you. He can’t say it like the stubborn men you both are but—I think the house is him trying to show it.” 

“But I can’t live in that house. I work in Providence. I look after him up there. There is nothing but bad memories in that place. I just can’t.” James rubbed his eyes lightly, they stung from the lack of sleep. 

“Then at least spend a bit more time here with me,” Miss Sharon spoke with a saddened smile. “I know you’ve been busy these last couple of years with seminary and teaching and all that but, I want to spend time with you. Not just letters and collect phone calls.” She reached out for his hand. James smiled back and placed his in hers. “I know being back here is eating you up inside but there are good times here. And good times to be had. You are my family and I love you so please, just stay a bit longer.” James squeezed her hand and simply nodded.