The next day...
Under the cloudless blue sky, the scorching rays of the early afternoon sun basked the concrete path; stretching from the tarred street, it trailed down to the brick steps of the large church.
Karen and Mathieu stood side by side.
Staring up at the large wooden cross embedded into the brick walls of the church, the pair remained silent, crooking their heads slightly as if trying to watch what happens next to the Cross above them.
"Do you think it will drop on us if we try to cross the church doors?" Mathieu finally broke their prolonged silence.
"Maybe..." She shrugged. "Why don't you go first?"
"And what valid reason should the Christians' God strike me first before you?..." His eyes glared at her from the corner of his eyes. "You of all people."
She snickered, "Because I have a higher chance of going to heaven than you. Not even confession can change your end game at this point."
"Not even hell would accept someone with as much body count as you."
"What can I say?" She gently brushed the strand of her hair behind her ear. "I am a cheerful giver..."
She stepped forward, her heels clicking loudly with each proud step she took into the building.
Mathieu's lips gapped with a sigh as he followed after her with reluctant steps.
Pushing the double parish doors open, Karen stood at the open entrance that drew the numerous gazes of the seated members; light indiscreet chatter shuffled through the paused air as their eyes gauged Karen's appearance.
Mathieu, standing behind her with a somewhat docile demeanor, leaned in to whisper to her ear. "I think your wardrobe choice gave away the subtlety of our infiltration."
"Subtlety is overrated."
Karen's fingers pushed aside the strands that framed her face. With each loud step of hers that echoed along the carpet path, Karen's plus pear figure was well outlined by the grey skintight skirt that dared not reach her knees — the skin of her clavicle and upper chest well exposed by the thin fabric blouse that hung loosely off her arms.
Contrasting the plain long sleeve shirt and jeans Mathieu had on, Karen's attire glimmered by the loud gold jewelry adorning her ears, neck and fingers; she made her careful way to the front row of the church as everyone's eyes followed after them until they halted.
Even the preacher at the altar was stunned for the moment as he watched them.
Karen and Mathieu finally sat.
A soft sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back on the seat, crossing her legs; the short skirt pulled higher to reveal the thick ebony skin of her upper legs as she tapped her fingers on the leather purse in her grasp.
The preacher then cleared his throat softly, looking away from them as he stammered for a moment to resume reading a verse from the Bible before him.
"I am assuming this was part of your plan?" Mathieu's voice was low as a whisper, glaring at her.
"Of course." She whispered back.
"And how is this going to be any help to our mission? Because your demeanor alone doesn't give the slightest hint of repentance to repaint the picture he has of you."
"We're not here to make him change his narrow mind about me. We're here to observe this facade of his so to find what to use against him." She began tapping her foot.
Mathieu's fingers latched to his face as a deep sigh resonated from his chest, running his fingers through his red strands. "I should have never given into your impulsive idea." He mumbled.
"Shu... Just trust the process."
She looked up at the altar, watching the preacher read on before bowing to the audience with an Amen.
"... Now, as a gift to the parish and a compensation for last week's disappointment, our brother, Drogo Vetter, will be performing for us today."
The members of the church immediately agitated with gasps and giggling, with various voices laced with surprise and excitement.
The preacher nodded. "Yep... Even I am anxious to hear our brother, Mr. Vetter, sing for us today. This will be our very first time experiencing this bliss privilege he finally agreed to. So please..." He stepped aside to raise his hand in the direction of the curtain behind the altar.
"Let's welcome our brother in Christ, Mr. Vetter, with a round of applause as he leads us into the spirit with his praise..."
And in that moment, the tall muscular figure of the man of the moment emerged from between the cloth.
Karen's eyes narrowed.
His towering figure embodied the elegance of just the mere dark turtleneck and pants he had on, shrouded by a suit with his hair parted at the side and brushed to frame above his glasses.
Drogo made his way to the altar with a warm charming smile impressed on his lips, his aqua eyes dilated and soft behind his transparent spectacles.
He bowed to the applauding population hailing in joy and excitement to his presence. Drogo bowed once more, touching his chest to their warming welcome.
Karen's eyes remained fixed on his face.
"If you stare at his face any longer, he'll know you want to sit on it." The dim voice of Mathieu's irritating comment forced her jaws to clench as her eyes drew slowly in his direction.
He smirked. "No judgment here." He faced back the altar. "He's actually worth the stalking now that I think about it— Ugh!!"
He flinched as his foot jerked up to the thudding pain the sharp jab of her heel did to his toes.
Karen hissed, rolling her eyes back to who brought them there.
Drogo finally straightened his back to speak. "Good morning, everyone. And happy Sunday to you all."
"And you too..." They recited with wide smiles like hypnotic puppets glued to his presence.
"First and foremost, I want to apologize for my failure to come last week and postponing this particular event until now. Unforeseen circumstances delayed my work and I couldn't even attend service last week."
The mindlessly happy members all waved and uttered dismissive comments about his apologies, seeming like nothing of his should be regarded wrong or worth apologizing for in the first place.
Drogo carried on. "And to show my immense gratitude and love for you all, I would like to perform this song I wrote for you all."
The crowd cooed.
Karen tutted with a disapproving grimace. Why were they acting like he was Christ reincarnate or something?
She crossed her arms as she kissed her teeth.
Just how much did he brainwash all these brainless?
Meanwhile, Drogo cleared his throat softly, turning to cue the seated band at the side before facing the audience once more.
He took in a deep breath, parting his lips to sing a low-toned lyric with his voice thin and measured with heartfelt emphasis of each gospel lyric.
Karen only observed his opening performance with a scrunched expression as she tapped her fingers impatiently — until his pitch changed at the chorus of the song.
His voice boomed through the church, a powerful, soul-stirring sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the building.
Her eyebrows hit the roof of her skull.
With his voice booming with a rich, baritone timbre, his words were crisp and clear, carrying a slightly guttural edge.
Karen's back slowly pushed off her seat as she leaned forward with her focus slimming on his commanding figure on the stage he stood.
His phrasing was distinctive, with a subtle emphasis on certain syllables that gave his song a unique flavor.
She blinked twice... A unique flavor she could very much recognize...