“Millenia,” he corrects me. “But…we’re a sneaky kind. You never know.”
“So are witches, so…I get it. Now come on, or we’re gonna lose them.”
I pull him toward the group that’s already turning on a side street called Cabrini Street. As soon as we turn to catch up, it’slike we’re in a different part of the city. It looks dark and empty, eerie even. The perfect trail for a ghost tour, I guess.
Ty, our tour guide, keeps walking ahead. His friend is carrying a red cloth on a stick and waving it in the air. We pass old apartment buildings that have seen more glorious days, if their art Deco touches are any indication, and stores so deserted I have no idea how they’re still operating.
Hell, even the cars parked on the street have gathered dust, and I have no idea how that’s even possible.
“This…is the Church of St. Frances Xavier Cabrini,” Ty says when we come to a stop.
I turn to look in the direction he’s pointing and almost lose my jaw to gravity.
Right in the middle of this abandoned street, tucked away like a secret, is a glorious church straight out of a fairy tale or European city.
It’s made of dark stone and beautiful stained glass. A clock tower stretches far above the main building and big, frightening humanoid gargoyles are spread around the clock as if guarding it with their big wings and imposing bodies.
“This church, the only of its kind in the entire city, has quite a complicated history.”
Lucian reaches for the small of my back and pulls me into his arms as Ty continues, “Built in 1910 as part of St. Frances mission in America, it didn’t bear her name until the fifties. St. Frances, with the support of the Italian community and Pope Leo XIII, erected this now-historical building and hired famous sculptor, Augustus Saint-Gaudens, to decorate it with Amethyst City’s famous humanlike gargoyle sculptures.
“Unfortunately, the gargoyles built to ward off evil didn’t help St. Frances, Saint-Gaudens, or any of the builders who worked on the church day and night. Only seven years after the church opened, both died tragically and under suspiciouscircumstances, and the builders all grew sick with dysentery. The church passed to the city. They attempted to continue services until the late eighties.”
Lucian plants a kiss on the top of my head, and I get nice and comfortable in his embrace, listening to the history of this gorgeous building.
How could it have fallen into such disrepair? How could anyone let this beautiful place fade?
Ty told us how the city surrendered the church to a private businessman during the recession, who made it into a residence and a museum.
“He tragically passed away in 1997, and the building has stayed abandoned ever since. Legend says the building cries at night for his loss. Locals have reported loud noises for years. It’s said this street has fallen out of God’s grace because of it.” Ty steps back and allows the group to take pictures while his friend chats with him.
I turn to Lucian and smile.
“What do you think?” I ask.
Lucian takes my hand and squeezes it in his. “It’s perfect.”
We’ve been looking for so long and have finally found it—a place that feels as special as our relationship.
Ty’s friend waves her flag and gets everyone’s attention. Ty turns to move on to the next stop.
“How does one go about getting married in this place?” Lucian asks, and everyone freezes.
They all look at Lucian, most with a surprised or intrigued face. Ty, however, looks at him in horror.
“Why would you want to get married here? This place is haunted.”
“Perhaps,” Lucian answers. “Or perhaps it’s misunderstood, like my kind.”
“Your kind?” Ty asks.
“The demon kind.”
CHAPTER TWO
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING NEXT SATURDAY?”
“O-M-G!I wish someone would take these down. It’s so grim having to look at their faces all the time,” says a girl as I walk past her on my way to the dorms. The place where I almost lost my life.
