Musk and mildew were poor companions to find together, but inevitable when mingling with humanities most downtrodden and destitute. Old worn pews which once likely help a glossy finish were now messes of carved in profanities and vulgarties and hd soaked in decades of filth from whatever the careless lay people had sullied them with. Despite their dilapidation, here they were in a column of either, two wide.

Fluorescent lights flickered from above, behind aged and uncleaned yellow filters, at least four or five of the long glowing tubes needed to be replaced but seemed unlikely to find their light again. The sickly light did enough to illuminate the large room, the makeshift church in the slum, which had at least a dozen vagrants resting, leaning, or outright sleeping on the aforementioned pews. Near the entrance sat a table, once adorned with cookies and other cheap confectionaries, as well several carafe filled with coffee. The sweets had long since ended up in the hands and pockets of the less fortunate, some their vices provoking quite the sweet tooth.

At the head of the industrious white tiled church, looking over his flock from a raised platform and an equally disgraced podium a man preached. He wore a simple button up shirt, of a blue and white plaid, and his thin grey hair, and eyes that seemed to look in both directions and only made worse by his thick rimmed bifocals. He told a simple story for simple people, focusing on redemption. The priest was lucky if two or three of the audience was really tuned in. It seemed as though the path to salvation was by now far strayed from.

At the back of the makeshift house of worship there was one person who was unlike the others, dressed much nicer than the rest in simple black slacks, a white dress shirt with the top few buttons undone giveing a flair of his chest making the gold chain with crucifix visible, and a simple black sports coat. He nursed a styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand, colored by a dash of cream and steam still rising off the surface. The older gentleman sat alone.

He was alone that was, before someone shuffling into the building decided to slip into the pew. A worn and ripped hoodie on stained with what could be anything from oil to blood. They made a mistake of looking over, curious of what a man like that would be doing here one could guess. Their eyes met, and the sullied individual let loose a few ragged breaths and shuffled back down the pew and got up, walking up and past the other seats into another part of the mission. The cold dark eyes followed the prey as it fled, the serpent wrapping around his spine, dark talons ripping and clawing at the inside of the deathly quiet chest cavity. The beast wanted out, to rip and tear until the vessel would lament and chase. Not tonight..

The well dressed gentleman stood himself, and shuffled down the row before striding purposefully towards the door and tossing the still full cup of coffee away. The cool evening air was nippy to some as the sun crept away, hiding behind the horizon not to return until the morning. He pulled a phone from his pocket, and glanced at the screen before pulling up the latest notification and quickly reading it before before calling the contact. ”Yes, give me the details and I will make the proper introductions myself. I don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression.”. There were only a few words spoken on the phone and the call was ended and the phone returned to his pocket

It was best time he introduce himself before he got down to any serious business and offend anyone, it was the courtesy. His shoes made a haunting and echoed thud as he strolled through the downtrodden streets that most decent folk avoided. The tip of the spear had plunged itself into the heart of Sacramento.