The fog lifted as soon as it came. It was slow and steady and it brought a tall, menacing figure with it. His steps were light but fast, almost as if they never touched the ground. Reaching up the corroded stone steps, he looked up to find himself facing a heavy oak double doors carved with gold linings of intricate patterns. The man lifted the ring from a brass knocker shaped to look like the face of an agonised man with horns protruding from his head; and knocked thrice before lightly caressing the face.

      The echoing sound bore a flurry of footsteps which gradually became louder. It stopped on the other side of the door and pulled open a small peeping aside. A pair of big, round eyes greeted the cloaked figure.

      "Password."

      "Lodate il Diavolo."

      The door unlocked with a sharp creak, orange candlelight seeped through the tiny slit. The man slipped in silently, traces of his darting cloak was seen; then it vanished and the heavy door closed with a thud. 

      "You're late," the shorter of the two spoke quietly. His big eyes glistened under the light, trying to catch up with the hooded figure's long strides - at the same time attempting to coax the dying flame. Their footsteps resounded throughout the stone walls. Barricaded stained glass windows lined the hall. The moonlight managed to bleed through random cracks within the boards in an array of coloured lights that barely lit the dark hall. Upturned crosses haphazardly nailed to the walls alongside alternating portraits of lovely demons slaughtering mankind, hiding beneath shadows, behind God himself with fangs bared yet kneeling - begging for forgiveness. 

      The pews neatly lined and scrubbed - the only furnitures untouched against all - contrasted to the dirty walls, cracked painted ceilings and stone mosaics. Towards the end of the hall lies a statue that reached to the ceiling. Standing on the altar, carved from a magnificent slab of rock was the Messenger of God but His head was sliced in an odd angle and was replaced with Satan's instead. His left hand holding a large wooden cross only, it's the other way around. His right palm facing out as if calling his disciples deluded his righteous act with an inscription of a bloody red pentagram. 

      The duo made their way to the altar and stopped behind the statue. Orange candlelight pooled on the mosaics, illuminated a well - hidden stone door. A marble plaque cut to fit into a rectangle on the statue read in ancient symbols: 

"Ye who enters hither shalt follow in His footsteps and thou shalt received the Devil's meed"

      Under the dark figure's breath, he whispered incantations and the plaque lit up in sync with his dragon mark. The ground shook a little, revealing the opening of the stone door. Stairs emerged from the sides which led to the dark basement. The men wasted no time and descended the steps. The trap door closed behind them, sealing off any signs of entry and once again the cathedral returned to it's deadly silence.

      They came across a smaller door at the end of the steps. It swung open on its own under their presence and the men entered. It was a Cimmerian parlour completed with plush carpeting of dark crimson, shelves stacked with black books. Red velvet curtains draped over nonexistent windows, their gold tassels ran on the bloody floor. Two overstuffed, high velour armchairs are placed such that they faced each other over a grand fireplace. The flames emitted were warm and welcoming. It's mantel adorned with tiny statues of horned men, a metalpiece of Lucifer's Sigil and another inverted cross. 

      "You're late, Kris." A voice spoke from one of the armchairs. "We are almost behind schedule." 

       "The Inspector saw me," the said man replied, pulling away his hood. A handsome yet cold face revealed. His blond hair, a mixture of gold and tangerine under the fire light framed his face. The eyes however, were a stern shade of artificial blue. On closer inspection, they were speckled with halo that glowed strangely. 

      "Ohhh? Is that so?" The source of the voice stood up and turned to look at the men; dressed in a black cassock embroidered with a gold inversed cross. "I trust you took care of the matter?" An angelic smile plastered onto his face, his eyes unfortunately were hard and unblinking. The colour so pale of beryl, the lighted circle conquered his irises in brilliance. From beneath Kris' cloak, he reached in to pull out a crystal vial filled with thick, red liquid and placed it on Suho's outstretched hand. "Well then, my fellow brothers, it is time." His grin unfaltered.

A/n: I'm really really sorry this took a looongg time. College and A levels are killing me :C but I managed to write a little at a time. This was supposed to be a longer chapter however I lost my paper draft therefore I will just post this chapter first and continue the rest in the next chapter. Once again, thank you all for reading and Happy Belated Halloween everyone!