Page 4 of The Heart of the Dragon

On a wet and chilly night like tonight, with the wind howling and rain threatening, they'd be swamped and require all hands on deck from their volunteers. The homeless would be seeking warmth and a hot meal, and I was determined to do my part in providing that comfort.

I plucked my rain cloak from the peg inside the door, zipped it up and pulled my hood over my unruly hair, before heading outinto the gloomy night. Despite the pang of loneliness, or maybe because of it, I picked up my pace and hurried to the church.

Since I was running late I chose to take a shortcut through the cemetery that sat at the base of the hill below the church. I loved these grounds during the day and often found myself wandering through the maze of headstones whenever I had spare time. They were steeped in tradition and memories of generations past that I always wanted to know more about.

However, it was a little less serene under the cover of darkness. There were too many ghosts lingering here. I couldn't see the dead, but I could sense something on the air, and whatever it was, it was restless.

Despite that, I still found everything about this place beautiful. Tonight, however, I did not have time to linger or I would be late, so I hurried past the engraved headstones that I’d read so many times I had many of them memorized.

As I rushed through the darkness, my feet slipping on the wet grass, I nearly tripped at the sound of a low, throaty growl. The noise sent a chill down my spine, and I paused mid-stride, my heart pounding in my chest. Slowly, I turned to look behind me, afraid of what I'd find lurking in the shadows, but my eyes met nothing more than swirling fog and droplets of rain. The graveyard seemed to stretch endlessly into the gloom, its familiar contours now strange and foreboding.

I wrapped my cloak tighter around me and shrugged off the eerie feeling of unease. It wasn't uncommon for wild dogs to linger in the area at night, I reasoned with myself. Or coyotes, perhaps.

Still, as I resumed my hurried pace, I couldn't shake the feeling that whatever had made that sound was something far more than a mere animal.

I rushed through the darkness, forcing that unsettling thought from my mind, and headed straight to the front doors of the ancient church. The entryway was surprisingly well lit, considering the age of the imposing structure. Warm, golden light spilled out from the windows, a welcoming beacon in the gloomy night.

This place had been built centuries ago, its weathered stone walls bearing witness to the passing of time. It had a tumultuous history, steeped in as much violence as it was in faith, with tales of bloody battles and profound prayer intertwined throughout its long existence.

Every time I entered the building, that rich history washed over me, leaving me slightly dazed. I got a strange sense of déjà vu that I could only chalk up to the lingering spirits of the past. It was as if the very air here held echoes of long-forgotten voices and the faint whispers of countless souls who'd sought solace within these walls. The feeling was both comforting and unsettling, a reminder of the thin veil between the present and the past.

“Hi, Rose.” One of our regular patrons called out when I entered the dining room.

“Hello, Paddy. Good to see you. Glad you decided to come in and get out of this chilly weather.”

“You know me. These old bones don’t care much for the cold.”

I gave him a quick smile and continued to the kitchen, answering several more greetings along the way. Before I hit the kitchendoors, a sense of somethingdifferentslid down my spine, giving me chills, and forcing me to turn toward the door.

I gasped.

A massive, cloaked figure now stood just inside, obliterating the light from outside and casting an ominous shadow across the room. With his hood pulled low over his face, I couldn't make out any facial features, but the sheer breadth of his shoulders dwarfed that of any other man I'd ever encountered. His feet were planted shoulder width apart, and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides, trembling.

It wasn't the tense posture of a man beaten down by the harsh weather or the often cruel whims of society. No, this was something far more.

This one stood angry, radiating an aura of barely suppressed rage that seemed to crackle in the air around him.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the growing unease. I had no business letting my imagination get the best of me, spinning wild tales from a mere glimpse of a stranger.

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was no ordinary man seeking shelter from the storm…

It was difficult to tell if we were going to have a problem because of him, but with the hair rising on the back of my neck, there was definitely something off. His aura alone spoke volumes. I’d never seen a man more soaked in red than this one.

A shiver worked down my spine just looking at him. My heart rate kicked up to triple speed and sweat broke out across my forehead despite the chill.

“Rose!” John called from the kitchen. “I could use some help in here.”

I tore my gaze from the stranger. I’d been standing there staring for far too long.

Crap.

“Yes, I'm coming.” I called back as I pushed through the door and shrugged off the odd feelings still pressing against my skin. “I’m sorry I was late. The shop was so busy today.”

“You know we understand and are grateful for whatever time you can give us. But since you’re here would you mind starting another batch of stew? We’re already almost wiped out. It’s been crazy tonight.”

“I figured it would be." I motioned toward the ceiling. "Full moon.”

John shook his head, smirking. “It’s not superstition, Rose. It’s just the weather. It turned faster than we expected and people have shown up in droves for a hot meal and shelter from the cold.”

---