You've run into Tom a couple times over the course of the past week. Interestingly, he is often found in unexpected places.

It was as though he knew you were there, at that exact time. But you dismissed your paranoia, brushing it off as coincidence, until you walked into each other for the third time in one day.

As you ran into him leaving a tiny antique shop, you giggled and struck up a conversation once more. Even though the business was outside of town, you always enjoyed the drive there in quest of new bookends.

After you said your goodbyes, you walked through the wooden door and immediately spotted something new. Your eyes lit up when you saw the exact same ceramic book-ends that shattered just last week.

You approached them with a jolly skip in your step, and held them close to your chest- embracing them as though they were much loved keepsakes. But your weird hug with an inanimate object was soon interrupted when Jeremiah, the store owner asked if you wanted to buy them.

"Yes!" you yell, so excited to have found the exact same ones you broke.

The moment you set them down on the counter, Jerri picked them up and began to wrap them in the customary brown paper. His brows furrowed in perplexity as he did so, and he started to attentively examine them.

"Mmm.. that's strange" he says, "I always source my antiques personally, and I don't recall picking these, they're quite unique aren't they."

You raise your hand and quickly steal the bookends out of his grasp, "I don't need them wrapping Jerri. Here's extra cash, keep up the good work" you say hastily while placing the money on the counter. You quickly dart out with your rare finds before he decided not to sell them.

Running frantically to your car, you carefully set them down between your dry cleaning, where you were sure they'd be safely cushioned. You made sure to check all your dry cleaning this time, as the last time you took home your cleaned clothes, your favourite tea dress was missing.

You're still sour when you think of it, but Sally, the store clerk insists she dry cleaned it and hung it up ready for collection. Yet here you are, still bitter, and without your favourite green dress.

You continued to daydream about Priest Tom in the pauses between your sporadic encounters. Your thoughts were always explicit, wondering what kind of lover he was. Was he soft and gentle, or gruff and tough?. His demeanour seemed to shift frequently, making it impossible to make a choice.

He was the devout priest for a split second—charming, pious, and the epitome of purity. Then, the next instant, he's grinning menacingly, acting in a dictatorial manner, and giving everyone in the town orders. But they blindly adhere to him. It appeared as though they worshipped him as a god.

Everything seemed so off and odd, you found yourself wondering if he was the devil in disguise, but laughed at yourself for contemplating such nonsense. You looked like you belonged in the looney bin the amount of times you've manically laughed at your own thoughts.

I fit right in with this cult of a town, everybody here is bloody crazy it seems.

The locals started up yet another bizarre ritual. They began confiding in him about their personal issues, pleading with him to administer proper punishment when they had been wronged.

You heard that one punishment featured chains and lashings, and another victim appeared to have been stabbed with a little dagger. But you were not present to see it. You were aware that this rumour was just hearsay and could not possible be genuine. Undoubtedly, a man of God wouldn't advocate such punishment. Not Tom. He was always very kind to you.

But slowly the people started changing. Bethany who was the town saint and devote Christian was found in bed with Phil, the owner of the pharmacy, and Jack the school principal.

The town was turning into chaos. Yet come Sunday, they all behaved. Attending the church in worship together.

You thought it was extremely unusual how Tom seemed to have a hold over everyone. You had to question whether he was to responsible for such a radical shift in people's behaviour. But since most of the changes were positive, you weren't moaning.

Improved education, better treatment of women, and a decline in crime were all seen. However, persons who committed small-minded crimes faced severe penalties.

—————————

You anticipated that Agnes would invite you to attend church today. So you deliberately opened the store on a Sunday to keep yourself occupied, having an excuse at the ready so you wouldn't have to go.

You didn't even need to look up when you heard the door chime as someone walked in. The familiar scent of Agnes's lavender perfume that hit your nostrils told you it was her.

"Mina lovely, you simply must attend. You're the only one who doesn't and that makes him sad"

You rolled your eyes, and looked at Agnes skeptical.

"I make Tom sad because I don't attend? Oh nonsense Agnes" you abruptly snap, "he has more than enough followers. I do not need to attend all the time" you pause, now lowering your tone "Besides, it's getting all a bit much. Hanging on to his every word is not normal, what's his goal, and what's his purpose with this town"

Agnes' eyes, which were formerly filled with a blazing spark, suddenly appeared empty as though she were in a trance and while speaking robotically, she cupped your face.

"You're his glorious purpose darling"

Darling? When does she ever call me darling?

She suddenly became aware of what was happening when you laughed and cast doubtful glances, and now her smiling eyes were back.

"Ok fine dear, but maybe go to confession after the picnic. Go and tell him your troubles, he's been great dealing with the towns problems"

"I don't have any problems Agnes, I'm all good thanks"

"Oh nonsense Mina, we all have some sort of problem. You don't have a husband, you need a man. Ask him for help with that. I guarantee he can help you"

Trying to end the conversation so that she will just move on to making tea and changing to idle gossip, you reluctantly agree.

"Ok Aggy, I'll go and visit Tom"

Agnes frowns, she hates when you refer to her as Aggy since she despises any type of shortened name. She, however, brushes off your snipe because she is so confused.

"Who's Tom dear?" she asks, puzzled.

Although you assume she's joking, she is actually very serious.

"Tom, the priest. His name is Tom"

She continued to give you a blank stare as if she had never heard of the term. But then you recalled Tom telling you that people frequently call him by different names.

"What do you call him?" you ask.

"Ah, well most of us call him saviour, because when he first came to town, he proclaimed 'your saviour is here'. It was rather funny, but the name saviour caught on. Others call him Lo—"

Before she could finish, you cut her off. You were a little too quick to voice your opinion over the name 'saviour'.

"So you address him as your saviour? what next, your God?"

You chuckle, obviously in a sarcastic and lighthearted manner. However, Agnes didn't even correct you for making such an impious statement; she only grinned.

"Well I have to go, I don't want to be tardy, see you again dear"

You're gobsmacked, when has Agnes ever wanted to leave without tea or pointless chit-chat. A strange feeling suddenly overcome you—you were disappointed.

"You're leaving?" you stand up from the chair with a stunned expression, "what, no tea and small talk today?" you realise your tone had a hint of sadness behind it, and judging by the way she looked at you, she heard it too.

She smiled sincerely as she approached and cupped your face "I knew deep down you liked our time together. Even if you do display a grumpy face most times" she said warmly, and instantly you feel shitty for the way you always behaved.

And now truly thinking about it, you realise you do enjoy her company. While she's intrusive, and overbearing, she has qualities of a mother. But you were simply not used to people caring for you.

"I can make you tea if you wish to stay" you kindly offer, realising you never made her tea—ever. Yet, she always made it for you —fuck, I'm such a bad friend.

She smiled in response—almost tearing in fact. But gently nods while taking a seat. You give her a beaming grin before walking away and preparing the pot for tea.

While you wait for it to brew, you reflect on your friendship with Agnes and realise that she's your only friend. Without her, you would feel even more alone. From that point forward, you made a deliberate decision to put in more effort to interact with Agnes, in a way a real friend should.

You sit back down, placing the tray on the small coffee table in front of you and proceed to pour her a cup, smiling as you do so — this was a new experience, and was actually making you—happy.

She cheerfully takes the teacup and brings it to her lips, but immediately upon tasting it, she grimaced, "oh dear, I really have to teach you to make a good brew" she frowns, placing the cup back down "and certainly before I find you a husband" she exclaims, placing her hands in her lap and getting comfortable.

You immediately groan whilst slumping back against the large pillow, now in two minds whether you should have asked Agnes to stay—damn me and my lonely heart.

After only a short stay, and after throughly filling you in on how to correctly make a pot of tea, Agnes leaves on her own accord. The bells chiming to indicate the start of the church service prompted her to quickly leave.

She waved goodbye but not before reminding you to attend confession later, and left.

Now alone, you contemplate all the screwiness of the town recently. You brush it aside though, getting used to the people's odd nature.

Your normal sleeping patterns were disrupted since Tom was on your mind constantly, and being a warm day you felt extremely exhausted. You decided to go in the back and attempt a nap, and almost instantly you fell asleep. But peace didn't come to you, as your mind dived into a very vivid dream.

You're on a busy street where vehicles and people are moving quickly. A red double-decker London bus zooms by you, making you jump. The engine's roar was really loud that it reverberated in your ear. You observed as the crowded bus came to a stop, allowing the passengers to exit.

Tom emerges from the bus, and you immediately recognise him. He was dressed smart, with a blue suit to match—he looked appealing, with his polished appearance.

He approached you with a smile on his face but stopped right in front of you and looked into your eyes. You continued to stare in that manner for a long time, until his gaze turned to something else behind you.

You suddenly hear a voice, "Come to me darling girl"

You swiftly turn around to face the familiar voice, but as you do so, you are awestruck by the realisation that you are now standing on a vibrantly coloured bridge—surrounded by a pitch-black sky that is dotted with brilliant stars.

Your eyes follow the brightly lit bridge, and there, in the distance, is a towering palace, an opulent imposing structure suited for a king or queen. It was genuinely magnificent; the entire scene looked to be taken from a fantasy book.

Despite your desire to remain fixed on the scene's magnificence, you could hear the voice again. It was Tom's voice, but as you turn to face the source, you see someone else.

He strode up to you, his expression sharpening as he got closer. Although he resembled Tom, he was unique—he was striking, and a strong brooding emanated from his features.

His eyes were ablaze with passion, and his black raven hair fell in gentle waves and similar to what Tom did, he came to a stop just next to your face. His ocean blue eyes, though, looked straight into your soul.

"There you are my darling girl" he repeats in a whisper.

His lips were practically in contact with yours as his face crept forward. His soft, sweet breath was warm against your mouth.

You lick your lips as excitement permeates your entire body and when he noticed how glossy your lips were, a sinister grin spread across his face.

You furrow your brows, realising you know that smirk. You've seen it before. That's Tom, dark dominating Tom.

Are they the same person?

Your voice was full of curiosity as you asked, "Who are you?

"I have many names" he replies.

"What do I call you?"

While maintaining eye contact, he grinned menacingly.

"You can call me—Loki"

As soon as he mentioned the name Loki, you startle out of your sleep, but you can still hear the term repeat in your head.

You sat up, perplexed by the strangeness of the dream. However, you ignored it and made an effort to forget about it.

You looked at the clock in surprise. It was after 5pm, and the church picnic had ended. You close up your store and decide to head home, but your legs have other plans, guiding you elsewhere as though having a mind of their own.