The Stalker gripped the Prey tighter to him and addressed the priest.
“I’m not afraid of you! I’ve seen many of your kind fall before me, and I’ll see one more before I’m done!”
The priest dismissed the beast’s cocksure boast. One hand gripped the worn cross, while the other held an equally worn Bible. The rich colors of the stole that he wore shone out in the reflection of the full moonlight. He kissed the cross, then bowed his head to the Bible. When his head came up, there was a deep fire in his eyes.
The beast felt an uneasy tremor pass through him as his otherworldly senses saw a cloak of power descend upon the cleric. It was true, he’d seen many men of the cloth destroyed over the centuries, but this one was different. No clue to his thoughts passed his visage as he sneered down at the man in the white collar.
“Try your best, little man. I’ll be on my way with my prize after I leave your broken bodies everywhere. Just like that one,” he motioned to the still form of the one he’d just killed.
The priest nodded grimly. “As you wish.” His voice changed as different words came forth. Latin words flowed from his tongue, singing praises of the Almighty and reminding the beast of the words of James. Another speech came from the robed man, something the others had never heard. His shoulders set, the priest began to fight.