The rain was deafening. I looked around through the rain, desperately seeking shelter, I was drowning here. The problem was that I wasn't in the best part of town, and it was actually a bit complicated. I know this is my territory, but I had to be careful too. At least it seemed like I was the only one out here on such a horrible night. The rain was so heavy that I wouldn't be able to hear if anyone tried to sneak up on me. I also couldn't see very far with the rain so heavy and of course there were no street lights, they were broken a long time ago. The only place I knew I could safely enter was the church, so I rushed. Eventually I arrived, undisturbed except for the rain, at the heavy, decaying doors of the church. I pushed the door and it opened obediently, then I slipped in, closing it surreptitiously behind me. There is no point in warning others of my presence. When I turned, my gaze was captured by the magnificence of the architecture. It never fails to move me. My eyes start by looking at the ceiling, then wander from side to side and finally along the walls, drinking in the beauty of the stained glass windows that sparkled in the light of the candles, and then resting on the altar. I ducked into the nearest pew with the intention of saying a few prayers when I noticed him. His eyes were fixed on me. I stared at the floor, but it was too late, because I already knew he wasn't one of the priests, his clothes were all wrong and his face! It seemed lifeless. I felt so heavy. My eyes didn't want to obey me. Not even my legs. Too late I understood the danger! Hypnotized, I fell asleep. Gasping in terror, I woke up and sprang to my feet. He was no longer there, but where, how long had I been here and... middle of paper... everywhere! The cross above the altar had fallen and was half immersed in blood and the statues had blood running down their faces as if they had been wounded. Lumps and lumps were everywhere, even inside my clothes and shoes. The stench of death was all-encompassing. I had never seen or smelled anything like that before. Then I saw him. In the center of the church, half submerged in blood, he lay. I struggled to my feet and moved forward with great difficulty through the coagulating blood. It was definitely him and he had a weak pulse. I dragged him out by the arm and screamed. The gargoyles that adorned the facade of the church looked down on me. At that moment I saw movements again out of the corner of my eye, but I was surprised by the sound of the horn warning of a bombing. Then I noticed them. But this time all I could do was scream inside.