WELCOME

[GABRIEL MATTHEW ELMWOOD]

He took in a gentle breath, the sound of the stale air in the ancient church filling his lungs was all that broke the silence of the inside of the church. Outside was ravaged by the undying ferocity of a storm, like a wild bobcat, hissing and clawing and snarling at the walls of the church. The building creaked under the incessant impact of fat rain drops and shoving winds, like the storm's goal was to tear the building down to it's support beams, but the church stood steadfast like concrete in the excitement. Perhaps it would lose a panel or roof tile, but that was a small price to pay for the House of God to keep standing. He might spend the following day, sloshing through mud and grass in order to erect plants and bushes back up, allowing their roots to once again anchor into the ground. But it was the least he could do in reciprocation for the shelter the tired building had offered.

Another breath filled his lungs, he could hear the rumble of thunder quiver his ear drums, but couldn't see the flashes of brilliant light from the lightning that dashed across the sky. No, his green-gray eyes were closed, head bowed in prayer. He didn't quiver or quake at the sounds outside, not fearing the storm but respecting it. Respecting the power of god's fury. This storm was unusually strong and dark for one of their area, it only helped in his mind to believe that the people of this town were paying for their sins. His imagination was not broad or deep enough to even pretend to understand what they had done, what was so bad it required such a celestial punishment. He assumed he'd rather not know, it was not his place to judge or know of the past, it was only his job to aid them in retribution. Everybody could be saved.

A horrid squeaking and clattering noise suddenly broke the silence. He still didn't jump up from the polished, wooden pew he'd sat at in fright or even react. He simply removed his hands from each other, no longer pressing palms together. He made the symbol of the cross with his hands, touching his forehead, abdomen and then each shoulder before finally standing straight. He tucked the rosary that was wrapped around his right hand into a pocket of his crease and wrinkle-less black robe, adjusting the white plastic piece under the black collar as he walked over to the noise. A window had jostled itself open under the strain of the window. Dirty, thin glass was rattling in it's frame under the force and it flapped around on it's hinges at the will of the wind.

"Shh, shh, shh..." Gabriel said quietly, almost trying to sooth the window like a scared beast. He clutched the splintering wooden frame and pushed it back, combating the winds until it was flush to the wall, allowing him to drop the deadbolt and keep it shut, causing just a simple whistle of escaping wind. He dusted his hands together, dropping small flakes of paint off his hands as he stepped away from the pane again. He sighed, defeated, how could this building be so disgusting? So...unkempt? He felt guilty, he could do so much more for this beautiful location. It was a house of god, but didn't look it.

Even now, he moved silently across the worn hardwood floor. Moving to the medium sized altar, he ran his hands over the flawless table cloth. The wind had jostled it and he set to work smoothing it out again, assuring it was perfectly draped over the table. He proceeded to move about, lighting up a striker match and relighting the candles that were blown out. It didn't take long for the simple stage to be cast in a warm light. He shook out the striker, pausing before sliding it back into the box, assuming he could use it later. Yes, he had much to be thankful. The large amount of candles was warming up the church a bit also, enough to take the edge of the chill off.

In the growing warmth, he smiled slightly. Raising his gaze to the main doors, he contemplated. If he was given this sanctuary from the battering rain, others should also. With that, he walked the length of the aisle, unlocking the main doors for those seeking shelter from the torrent.

[KATHERINE ISABELLA GREYSON]

It had to be fate. The weather was the worst that the area had seen in a while and it was all due to her arrival. It had to be. Either that or Katherine Greyson had to worst timing that a human had ever had in their entire life. It was bad enough to be inside a house with this weather attacking the town of Darkness Falls buy inside an automobile, even a sturdy pick up truck, was sucidial. Katherine cursed as the slow rusty blades skimmed the surface of the rain that assaulted the truck. Her hands had gripped the wheel so tight that her knuckles had turned white. If she was a woman of religion, she would have started praying by now. Instead, Katherine cursed loudly at her bad fortune and turned the volume of the radio down beyond her hearing capibility. She leaned forwards, into the wheel further so as to hopefully see where she was going. For all that Katherine knew, she was driving through some poor unsuspecting farmers fields.

These terrible gale force winds might have been telling her to leave the town, not to come. Maybe there was something there that she wasn't supposed to find out about. Maybe there was something in Darkness Falls that would change her life and the weather itself was warning her against seeking it out. However, as an athiest, she didn't believe in any of this mumbo jumbo that her mind was concocting as it looked from an escape from concentrating on the downpour and the fear that it shot through her body. Maybe music would help calm her nerves, Katherine mused. She reached a hand down and twisted the worn knob gently. Carrie Underwood's Jesus Take the Wheel was on the radio station and with a bitter laugh Katherine turned the sound back down. "You have got to be kidding me." She muttered into the steering wheel. For a moment she looked down at it, almost expecting an answer from it. However, that circular object offered no response. However, the speedometer did have a malicious glare to it in this light... Katherine laughed out loud at her craized thoughts and shook her head in disbelief.

Taking a quick peek down at the road map spread out over her mother's hard suitcase and her own dufflebag, Katherine had to assume that she was in the correct vicinity to be in Darkness Falls. She had to be. After all, the little town couldn't be that far out of the way of civilization. "Why couldn't it have been Just Around the Corner Falls? Or In Your Backyard Falls? Why did it have to be so-far-out-of-the-way Darkness Falls?" Katherine said to herself. She must have been losing it. After all, she was talking to herself. Right now, all Katherine wanted was to find this blasted Holiday Inn and check in, get to her room, check to see if her intern Harper had made it yet, take a hot shower, and go to bed. Even the crazies from every goverment agency that had been sent to Darkness Falls to observe the paranormal activity wouldn't risk it in this weather. Even the goverment lackies weren't that stupid. Katherine sighed heavily and pulled over to the side of the road. She was completely lost and couldn't see in this weather. There was absoutley no point in driving an inch further when she couldn't see.

Katherine didn't bother searching her disaster of a truck for an umbrella for she had realized three miles back that she had completely forgotten one back home. Of all the things to forget when you came to a town in a storm. Points for failure to Dr.Greyson. Instead, Katherine opened the door and stepped out, being pelted by hard rain drops. She was infront of an old beat up building and ran up the steps to it anyways, not realizing where she was or the irony of it all. Katherine opened the door that faced the street and slipped inside, shaking raing from her drenched coat. There was no saving any of her clothes. In the five seconds she had been outside, she had managed to get herself wet from head to toe. Katherine sighed again and then looked about the building she had entered. Well at least it wasn't a home, but this had to be worse. What was more embarressing or shameful or even ironic then an atheist finding a church as her sanctuary when she needed it. Katherine let out a little laugh and shook her head, again in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me." She hissed. This was a little ridiculous.

[GABRIEL MATTHEW ELMWOOD]

"I didn't know I was joking..."

He'd unlocked the doors only moments before, as if fate had told him an unlikely visitor would be on his doorstep. He had entered the small closet on the side, folding up the raggedy, scratchy old blankets so they could be stacked up neatly in their warm little closet instead of lazily thrown about. Just about to swing the door of the closet shut, he found himself grabbing the worn door handle and opening it again, he pulled out two of the burgundy-brown colored blankets, finally shutting the door before walking over to her fearlessly. He was a man of god, with faith as his shield, he had nothing to fear. That, and the woman looked like a drowned rat, he had no idea how bad the storm actually was. All he knew was that she needed help, she could whip out a knife and plunge it through his heart if she wanted, but he'd ensure she was relatively dry and warm first. Hypothermia was no fun, no fun at all.

"Here.." His voice had never really seemed to change much. It wasn't necessarily deep, but wasn't cracking like a thirteen-year-old boy. Quieter in tone and smooth, but honest. You could tell just from his tone that he had nothing to fear, as well as his company. Honesty. It didn't seem capable of taking on a venomous, biting tone or a condescending one; only compassion. "...Use this one to dry off with, the other to stay warm." Father Elmwood held out the blankets towards the stranger. He didn't want to risk suffocating her in hospitality, but he couldn't help it. He had the urge to fix things, and this woman needed a tune-up.

"Come, come..." he gently touched her arm, nudging her only slightly towards a pew for her to sit. His motions were like silk, smooth and flowing. Nothing jerky or threatening could possibly come about the man, it seemed. Except probably his face. It was aged with his soul, weary and perhaps a bit tired as well. Never-ending paranormal events could really suck the life out of you. His gaze had hardened almost, and perhaps he didn't smile quite as much as he should have, definitely not an animated man by any means. "...sit, I'll get you something warm to drink."

He left her in the church, heading to the backroom where the door was tucked up behind the altar. It was a small little room, the lone incandescent light bulb in the ceiling flickered shyly at his entrance. The table held a coffee maker with stirrers and sugar packets. A chair sat in the corner as well as a rack of ceremonial robes for all sorts of occasions. He wandered over to the coffee maker, flicking the switch and having to check the plug after the on light failed to illuminate. Once he'd punched the outlet a few times, it suddenly brightened up and the pronounced sound of a stream of coffee hitting a glass pot echoed in the small room. He created a cup and got some sugar packets, there was no milk, so he brought a small bowl of powdered creamer to the table. After enough coffee had been produced, he dumped it into the Styrofoam cup, watching the brown liquid release wisps of smoke into the air.

The strong smell of black coffee filled his nasal cavities as he packed up the little mess. Walking back out, he looked up to locate her and bring the items to her. Gently, he set the delicate bowl on the pew next to her, as well as a few packets of sugar and the cup. "Careful...It's hot." Finally, he took the moment to raise his gaze and really study the woman.

My, the girl-- No, Woman, was beautiful. He admitted that. Women were gifts from god, he admired them all and their unique fashions. He could already tell this woman had a lot of personality. God had granted her with the ability to think as opposed to conform. She must have been one heck of a trooper to be in this storm, however. A real character. He lowered his gaze to the cup once more, this was not good. Not only was he a priest, but he was married for gosh sake! This simply would not do. In his normal fashion, he built his heart up into an ivory tower, blocking out these thoughts of attraction and affection like he had done before. This was not the way of God's path. Just another temptation that Christ has put in his path, trying to deter him. But he would not easily stray.

"I'm Father Elmwood, and who are you, dear?"

[KATHERINE ISABELLA GREYSON]

And all of a sudden her world was brightened by the apperance of a priest. He just came out of no where and it almost seemed that the candles burned brighter just with his existance. Dear God, why did he have to be a man of God? Was it even fair for priests to be that attractive? He was the most understatedly attractive man that she had ever laid eyes on. Katherine took a moment to drink him all in, without being obvious of course. She looked him over quickly as she took the blankets from his warm hands as his soft words still rang in her ears. She peeked out from the folds of the blanket as she rubbed the back of her neck. As could be expected with church blankets, they were tattered and scratchy, but she didn't quite mind the surface at the moment, she was too busy lost in gazing at the most attractive priest ever and wondering why priests couldn't do a calender like the firemen. There was an easy smoothness about his moments that she caught onto immeaditly. It was as if he moved on liquid and everything else around him, including her, was heavier and less smooth. His calm eyes were nothing but kind and trusting and she couldn't find anything else, no matter how far she searched their beautious depths. Even the curve of his chin suggested kindness and a sweet demeanor. Katherine was almost at a loss for words.

The priest motioned for her to sit on the pew in the chapel. Katherine almost refused to enter the place so very littered with religious symbols that truly didn't mean what those damn Christians thought they did. For example the cross. In most languages it was simply the symbol for the number ten. Yet those damn Christians (yes, they were damned) had to go and blur the lines of symbology making anyone who said that the cross wasn't what it was a heretic and outcast of society. Some symbologists had even been put in jail for their beleif that the cross was what it was and not the misconception. Why couldn't Jesus have died on a table. What symbol would they have used then, a rectangle? Truly, those damn Christians would have been laughable then. 'Let us all pray to Jesus who died on this rectangle.' Thanks be to god who sent his son to a table. Of course, those damn Christians would have found a way to make all tables scared. However, where would people put their stuff then if tables were scared? Why couldn't this man be a buddhist? She liked that little fat man much more then Jesus anyways.

Then that gorgeous-should-be-doing-porn priest disappeared, leaving her to gently sit on the pew and wrap the dry blanket about her in a protective cocoon. She almost felt like running to the doors and locking them so no one else could invade. Yet, she couldn't find the will power to disobey his command to sit. He had said it so sweetly that she just did want to stay there, even if the 'virgin' mother was glaring at her from the corner and Jesus scowled down at her from the cross. "What are you looking at?" She mumbled to him. "I don't believe in you so I don't have to hide my inappropriate thoughts in a church." Katherine would have had to admit she did sound like a spoilt little girl who was being scolded by someone who knew better then she did. However, she didn't qute care and it wasn't her fault that the image of a man hanging from a cross had always made her uncomfortable. The whole story was a little ludacris in retrospect after all. Come on, virgin mother? Really? That's like saying we have an uneducated teacher or a sober alcholic. Just doesn't happen. Katherine shot a dirty look at the statue of marry. She really must have been loosing it. She was glaring at statues.

Ah, thank heavens for fast coffee makers. At least this run down place of prayer had one thing working right. The priest returned to her with that happily steaming cup of coffee and all the fixings. Perhaps she could have told him that she took her coffee black and saved him the trouble. Greatfully, Katherine raised the cup to her lips and took a delicate sip. "Thank you." She said quietly. Not bad, she noted mentally. Looking down into the black depths of the cup, a brilliant but evil idea struck her. She was curious to see how strong this priests resolve was to his path as a man of God. He was a man after all and most men couldn't resist a woman with a sweet smile and a pretty face. Although she hated to admit it, Katherine knew that she had both. Setting a serene smile on her face, Katherine flicked her eyes up and peered at him flirtatiously. She didn't look directly at him but from the corners of her eyes, appraising him openly this time and allowing her face to show the pleasure she found in his apperance. Katherine was no flirt by any means but it seemed to be easy to do with this priest. He was so sweet and kind that she felt much more confident in his presence and even confident enough to put herself out there a little and see what happened. She let a smile come across her lips slowly before looking down, feeling her cheeks flush.

"I'm Dr. Katherine Greyson." She replied to his question. "Do you have a first name Father Elmwood."

[GABRIEL MATTHEW ELMWOOD]

Gabriel studied her, watching the way she seemed to look at him. It was odd, what he didn't know at the time was that the correct descriptive word would've been 'provocative'. He'd hardly felt the feeling of want or lust, and never had even sensed the reverse of somebody wanting him. It just didn't happen. Big surprise, being a priest was a mood killer. Her silent notions were visibly lost on him. He simply offered a smile in return, watching contentedly as she sipped the coffee, even if she didn't use any of the extra materials he'd dragged along. It was fine! As long as she was drinking it, combating the cold and dampness from chilling her insides and making her sick. He couldn't have her in distress, not in his care, at least. He tried his best to be hospitable and kind, even he would've been wound up trying to travel through the storm prowling outside. This was a sanctuary from that sort of stress and worry.

"Doctor?" His eyebrows raised, impressed. He himself never attended a regular school, really, so people with major degrees were very, very respectable according to him. Anybody capable of such a task was very important to society and the advancement of people. "It's nice to meet you, Doctor Greyson..." He was tempted to shake her hand, but knew it'd probably feel like ice, wrapped around the styrofoam cup would help her warm them up, not holding his hand. "...Gabriel." His light colored eyes searched her face again, so delicate and soft. It reminded him of the flawless porcelain that made up the Virgin Mary statue in the room, or the smooth table cloth he had ran his hands over earlier. Gabriel just assumed that's probably what her skin felt like. Silk. But, tsk tsk, boy. Look, don't touch.

"Tell me.." he continued in that slow, calm pace, "...what are you doing out in a storm like this?" As weathered as that storm had temporarily made her, she still held an air of elegance. It was respectable, everything was about this woman actually. It was hard not to express concern for her, she was by far too valuable and precious to lose her life to a slick road, blinding rain and conveniently rooted tree. He would've hated to see that porcelain face in a casket, blessing her body and soul to travel to heaven where she belonged. Among the angels. It was then he'd realized he'd never seen those distinguishable details before. Not around Darkness Falls or Boston at least. She was a stray, a fallen angel.

"I haven't seen you around here..." he finally verbalized, rather obviously and dumbstruck, "...what in darkness falls interests you to drive in this storm? I'm sure it isn't our weather patterns..." He tilted his head slightly, peering up at her down-turned face, once again missing the whole flirtatious aspect of it. All that got to him was it must have been some good coffee to huddle over it like that. He was never a big fan of it himself, but, if it helped people. He subconsciously moved to flatten a wrinkle out of the front of his robe, fingertips brushing over the simple wooden cross that hung from a black cord around his neck. That's what he was. Simple. Even down to his hair, a simple brush and comb back to keep it in a neat, smooth, formal look. That's all he needed. The simple life. One of predictability and faith.

He hadn't wanted to come to Darkness Falls, but he was here none-the-less. It was what god wanted, and it was what would be done. Without complaint or hardship. Of course, this was barely any problem at all. Helping a gorgeous, successful young woman against the brutal and unforgiving rain. Offer her a blanket and a cup of coffee and talk to wait out the storm. Gabriel didn't have much planned otherwise, he'd already said prayers over the town. protecting it's inhabitants against the sins they'd brought upon themselves and the storms they did not. Prayed for those who did not have shelter against nature's abuse and for those, such as Doctor Greyson, whom were stuck in positions of vulnerability and fear. It seemed his prayers had been answered and responsibility dealt. As always, he'd do it with a smile.

[KATHERINE ISABELLA GREYSON]

Gabriel. What a name. It was a name that seemed chosen by the angels just for this one perfect little christian boy. Now that she knew his name, none other would fit. It seemed that he had been born just to bear that name, and Katherine couldn't resist letting the smile come to her face as she turned it back down to hide it. Katherine almost laughed at her foolishness. She felt like a little school girl just developing a crush on the new supply teacher that was completely off limits. The priest was most deffinatly off limits. There was no way that he couldn't be. It would be wrong. It would be so completely wrong. That had to be a sin and get her sent to Hell before she could pray. Rolling her eyes to regain whatever measure of self control that she had originally developed, Katherine looked back up at Gabriel. That was what she would call him. Gabriel, perhaps Gabe when she knew him better. That was being presumptious enough of course to suggest that she would be given the oppertunity to spend more time with him. Katherine had to admit that she was being a little forward to suggest that he would give her that oppertunity, but a girl can hope. And if all else failed she could find religion and show up for church.

"Well, I really am not a doctor. I have a phd, yes, but I don't see symbology as a phd worthy subject." Katherine explained, training her eyes steadily on his. He had beautiful eyes. She was sure that her thoughts had touched on that before, but it was a very notable subject. Having such beautiful eyes should have been phd wworthy. That would have been a subject she would have happily studied. He was a subject she wanted to study and get a phd in. "I was driving into town. That's why I got caught in the storm. I was lost, so I guess finding here was a good thing. But once that storm clears, I'll have to go find the Holiday Inn." She said. Suddenly, she wished that the storm would last as long as possible. It would be great, truly. The longer that storm beat up her truck, the longer she could stay with Gabriel in the church. It was nice being wrapped up in the warm itchy blanket with a warm cup of coffee in her hands.

She couldn't help but give him another run over with her eyes for moment while he spoke. Even the sound of his voice on her ears was so very welcome to her. It was a warm soothing sound that danced in her ears lightly and yet each word had the meaning and gravity of a prayer that had been uttered for centuries. Only with these prayers of words, the meaning hadn't been lost as the years rolled on. The meaning was as fresh and welcoming as if Christ himself had uttered them. Katherine drank them in like a horse at a pond in the Sahara. She started to watch his lips as he spoke. There was an irresitable curve in them of a thousand hidden smiles and many missed pleasures that most had lost when they were just chidren. Just from the sweet seductive innocent curve of his bottom lips, Katherine guessed that he had rarley been kissed if ever. She let her own smile warm at that thought. Who knew that she would ever find it attractive to have rarley been kissed. Katherine's thoughts danced to her own history with men. She hadn't really been much of a gentlemen's girl. Her only real significant relationship had been with Stephen who she almost married, but look how that turned out...

"Well Gabriel," She said trying the name out on her tounge. It sounded good. "I'm here to study the bleeding statue. I find it interesting that only a certian statue would choose to weep blood. Do you know what statue it was? That could be key to this whole investigation. Who it was, and why they were made into a statue. Did blood have any significance? Did they bleed from their eyes when they were alive? Are there any symbols surronding it that give a clue? Or is it just a random anomoly? That's why I'm here. That, and I needed to get away from home." Over the past two months Stephen had been calling her and begging her to give him a second chance and had asked her out for dinner quite a few times. Katherine had refused, not wanting to tread that path again, but was now finding it harder and harder to say no each time. After all she had been in love with him once upon a time and maybe she did still harbour feelings for him. But Katherine would have liked to believe that she had too much self-respect and dignity to let herself go out with the man who had left her at the alter because he had gotten cold feet. That and the fact that he had left her for another woman made it a little hard for her to forgive him.

[GABRIEL MATTHEW ELMWOOD]

His heart cracked and sank a little in response to her complete dialogue. Oh lovely, a symbologist who was conveniently also a person lost of faith. Beautiful. 'These guys' had flooded the church at the initial death of the previous priest, as if the unfortunate and heart wrenching passing of the man. Perhaps one of only half-a-handful of times he got visibly upset. Trying to usher them out of the church so people could properly mourn was not taken in the requested fashion. He got sucker-punched across the chin by one of the more feisty and rowdier members. He'd always hated the extremists, and had to pay for it when some of them recruited neighborhood punks to deface the property. Gabriel helped others as they painted over graphiti on the walls and helped pick up tombstones that had been kicked over. One of them had found the shed, but was, thankfully, easily discouraged by the four-dollar padlock on the door.

"The holiday inn? You're a long way from there, Doctor." Gabriel decided to focus on other subjects for the moment. Why panic? perhaps she was one of that few that aren't violent, aren't ready to knock his lights out of leave him with some black eyes. She didn't seem the type anyway, but looks were undeniably deceiving. He, himself, was a prime example of that. If he wasn't ashamed of that, he'd ask outright how many priests anybody knew who were married and drove a motorcycle without a license. Perhaps somebody from Vegas would give him an answer that'll cut his vocal chords, but he could simply say: None.

The wind rattled the side panels outside and growled at the building, dragging his gaze away to the little window, the one who had lost in the battle against nature's force. It seemed to hold strong this time, and he gladly looked back at Katherine. There was simply something about her, and the more she spoke the more pronounced it became, that made him just want to be in her presence. He'd never before, personality and life style-wise, been someone who thrived on attention. Women were just prettier and more charming and warm versions of men, but this was a whole new beast. He found the woman and her independence to be overwhelmingly...what's the word? Attractive. Well, let's not forget that she was undeniably gorgeous as well. If he didn't admit that, He might as well call himself a homosexual and we sure as hell can't have that either. He could tell that their friendship, and reminded himself thats all it would be, would be limited greatly. The more she spoke, the wider the rift between them became.

"I know the answers to the questions you have. But now is not the time. It's late, Doctor. You should be getting rest, not worry about statue. In this storm, you'd be lucky to even see the statue a few inches in front of your nose, let alone blood." It was not his place to tell her what to believe or think, only to help her if she wished for a divine intervention of some sort. He felt a bit chilled suddenly at the statue. Bleeding a sickly red color from the eyes, hands and feet. The image made him feel cold, a definite sign from God. A reminder of what he had done for the people of this town and how disappointed he was in them crossing his word. How much his sacrifice had gone to waste. "I'll show you the sculpture when it's nice, or at least nicer, outside than it is now."

"We have some cots and such downstairs...If you'd excuse me for one moment..." He stood up, and stepped into the aisle, offering her a smile before he moved off in that very characteristic elmwood-pace, quick but stiff. He first took time to duck into the back room, hanging up the ceremonial robes. Then, in his dark slacks and dress shirt, headed into the eerie basement. The cold and calmly basement would simply not do, and he sighed softly before lugging the large, boxy and solid metal cot up the first floor. After wrestling for a bit, he returned to where Katherine had been seated, pushing the cot even if it had a crooked wheel.

"I hope this is okay. We're a little low on budget here." he paused, fumbling with it for a minute before getting it to fold outwards. It was slightly shorter and thinner than your average bed, but would do the job. He smiled up at her as he unfolded his, making sure it was a good distance from Katherine's. Even thought thunder was shaking the building, he had to remain appropriate. "I cannot allow myself to let you go back out into that storm, I'll help you find your truck and the Inn in the morning."