The Mark Of Thanatos

"But Seamus, surely there must be something we can do?"

He sighed and kissed her dark forehead. How he loved her! More than the church, more than anything. He did not know how to make her understand that this was a dubious gift that brought neither peace nor resolution. He could only brace himself with the knowledge that someone in his family was going to die. This time there was no need for guesswork; his ailing mother was the only one left.

"There's nothing to be done," he said, rising from the bed he had been sharing secretly with her for more than a year. The thought of leaving the priesthood had, heretofore, loomed large in his mind, now all things seemed less urgent in the shadow of the mark's reappearance.

"Madeleine, I love you," he said, zipping up his pants. It was always so very difficult to leave her. "I'll call you later."

She slipped an arm around his tall lean frame and kissed him passionately, arousing in him as always the fire that had lived between them since their meeting two years ago. She had come to the church for comfort as a widow with two children to raise. From the moment their eyes had met, he understood that which was buried inside him and could no longer bear not be free. He lived tortured with his love for many months until one day it all exploded into an irrevocable ecstasy.