The night sky was almost pitch black from the clouds that swarmed it. Heavy rain fell, almost like a waterfall, to the earth below, flashes of lightning cutting through the cloud cover, accompanied by loud crashing thunder. It was almost as though the sky was, itself, angry. And it would be understandable, considering what the cumulonimbus overseers had to look down upon.

The man stood there, drenched from the rain, but not seeming to care at all. He was clad in a long coat, his short black hair matted down from the water falling on him. His coat was soaked, his grey shirt under it clung to his torso, his tattered jeans were heavy from the water, and his black shoes were soaked clear through to his socks. But he did not care. He didn't care that his knuckles were bruised and stained with blood, and hurting him. All he cared about was the reason that his knuckles were in such a state... which was the same reason the switchblade he clutched in one of his hands was dripping with the same red liquid as the one on his knuckles. But it was not from the same source.

"...you thought you could run." he said to the one that was on the ground before him.

"You thought you could hide." he said further, his dull grey-blue eyes fixated in a cold and angry glare.

"I don't know why. We both know it will ALWAYS come to this. And each time, you end up in a worse state." he told them further. "Just give up." he continued, narrowed his eyes a little.

"Nobody cares about you. Nobody's looking for you. Nobody will miss you when you're gone. Nobody will grieve for you when you're gone." he went on, pausing for a brief moment.

"Even the heavens themselves turn a blind eye to you." he then said. "All that awaits one such as yourself... is hell." he informed them, as a flash of lightly illuminated the sky, making him almost seem like he was a killer straight out of of film.

"Hell would probably be a relief for you at this point... assuming it exists. So why not just stop this, hm? Maybe you'll find some semblance of purpose or atonement in the afterlife." he then suggested.

"It'd be better for everyone, after all." he finished, taking a few waterlogged steps towards them.

The large rock was flung towards him, and he had little time to react. The object slammed into his head, right above his eye, causing him to stagger back, letting out a string of loud curses, only muffled by more thunder. He then looked towards the fleeing woman, as his own blood started to leak from the fresh injury blinding him in that one eye, temporarily.

"CURSE YOU!" he yelled out to her.

He then looked around, before darting off in another direction.

She was faster than him, but she was panicked. She just wanted to get away from him, so if he could take another route and intercept her, he could... and would... finish this.

He had to. Failure was not an option any longer, and he knew that.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it." he growled.

"This would be SO much easier for the BOTH of us if you would just accept your damn fate!"

Just as she grabbed the door, the man appeared from an alleyway that he'd managed to get to, and saw her there. His eyes widened, and he started to race RIGHT towards her, only for her to pull open the door and dash inside, shutting it behind her and putting her full weight on it as she did so. As soon as she'd done so, he stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the monstrous building that towered before him... and he felt himself taking a few unconscious steps back, biting his lip a little. He then quickly turned and let out a pure unadulterated scream of frustration, which the thunder drowned out, before running off into the night.

Meanwhile, inside, the young lady found that the rain was no longer pounding down upon her. She also noticed that she was now surrounded in light... light that seemed to be very warm and welcoming. She calmed down enough to see that there was an aisle that stretched out before her, all the way to a podium of sorts that had a large organ behind it, with rows of pews on either side of her. Religious symbols decorated the interior, and beautiful stained-glass windows could be seen adorning the walls on either side of her.

She was in a church. Or at the most vague, a place of worship.

Her attacker/pursuer hadn't followed her inside here, and she'd stopped long enough for him to have caught up with her, she guessed. She glanced back and saw that the door was still shut, and nobody seemed be trying to open it, or move the handle, or anything. At the very least, she couldn't feel anyone on the other end of it, attempting to get inside.

For all she knew, he was waiting outside for her... but he wasn't coming inside, at the very least.

She'd sought refuge, and she seemed to have found it. For now, at least.

She couldn't ignore her pain any longer, and she realised she needed medical attention... and soon. However, she suddenly had little time to concentrate on her pain, when she suddenly sensed the presence of someone else in the area. Whether she was just paranoid now, or whether she felt subtle changes in the atmosphere, she knew she wasn't along any longer.

She was suddenly at strict attention, but when she looked around, she saw who it was and where they'd come from. The individual in question had come in through a side door that connected to another room in the building, and he was an older man, looking to be in his late 40's, maybe early 50's. He had well-trimmed short salt-and-pepper hair, and his eyes were deep blue. But what was immediately more noticeable, were his clothes. He had comfortable slacks on, and slightly scuffed dress shoes, but his shirt was a dress shirt, and was black... which allowed his white collar to stand out, as well as the silver cross necklace he had on.

It was clear he was a pastor here. Or at the very least, one of the ones 'in charge' for this building.

He noticed her there, and immediately he acquired a very concerned expression, before slowly starting to move towards her.

The man stopped when he saw her hesitance, and took a small step back. He raised his hands up to show he meant to harm to her, or at least tried to convey that there was nothing to fear from him. He could see she was frightened and injured, and that she needed help right now. He guessed she had been the victim of a recent attack, and had sought emergency safety and shelter in this building.

He paused for another moment, before walking along the wall, and gesturing to a first aid kit that was mounted on said wall.

He wasn't going to try and yell at her from across the room, as the loudness and the echo may have startled her even more... not that the booming thunder outside would have helped them.

Instead, he was attempting to show her he wished to try and help.

The man paused as he saw her slide down to a sitting position, and he could tell she still didn't trust him. She was still scared, wary, and paranoid... but she just no longer had the strength to resist. He guessed she was tired... physically, mentally, emotionally, the whole lot. But she needed help, and he was not one to look the other way when he saw something like this.

So he grabbed the kit and made his way over, getting down on his knees when he was close enough. He looked at her and saw that she was covered in bruises, and that she was bleeding from many cuts... especially the one that she had placed her hand over moments ago.

He sighed quietly, as he opened the kit, and looked at her once more.

"It is all right, my child." he said to her.

"You are safe here. I promise."

The man saw her gesture this way, and then smiled softly.

With that, he raised his hands, and started to move them into signs.

I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were hard of hearing. he told her. But I promise you, you are safe here, and no more harm will come to you while you stay within these walls. he told her further.

However, you have one injury that is more grievous than the others. he warned her.

I have some field medical training for when I did a tour of duty out East, if you will allow me, I will mend it. he offered.

But I must have your trust before I can do such work right now. he added.

Thank you. the man signed back.

With that, he got up and disappeared into one of the nearby rooms, was gone for about 2 minutes, before returning with some more supplies, these ones for dealing with worse injuries.

He tended to her bad one, and though she felt uncomfortable from what he did, not having any proper sedatives or anything, it wasn't too bad for her. She'd felt much worse in the past.

When he finished, he looked at her again, and smiled.

Done. he told her.

Are you hungry or thirsty? he then asked her.

The comment didn't come, much to her surprise.

Come along, then. he signed. I have some hot food ready, actually. he informed her, standing up and offering his hand.

She looked up at him, and saw the lightning flashes outside the stained glass windows, meaning the weather had not let up, and there was a strong chance that it wouldn't for a while.

But in here she felt... less frightened by them. Or, rather, the atmosphere in here helped quell the natural fright that lightning could cause. It was warm in here in more than one way.

And this man seemed like he genuinely wanted to help her.

He merely continued to smile at her.

You're in luck. he replied. It's meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and mixed vegetables. No seafood at all. he assured her.

Do you require help in walking? he asked. If you do, feel free to use me for support. he then offered, pausing for a moment, before chuckling lightly to himself.

But where are my manners? I have yet to introduce myself. he stated.

I am Father Dean Atherton. he told her.

What is your name, child? he asked.