Father Groggins was worried. He had seen them on Sunday, after he left mass at St. Patrick's in New York. Now, they were here in Washington. Had they followed him? He kept on walking on the lonely sidewalk. It was 9:00 P.M. He had gotten special permission to retrieve some documents the Bishop of Baltimore wanted from the Library of Congress.
On that fine morning, as he had stepped out of the church, he had crossed himself. Then, he'd noticed something out of the corner of his eye. There were four men standing at the entrance to an alley opposite the church. They were wearing blood-red robes.
This morning, he had seen them in front of the parish rectory. They were across the street, simply standing there, staring. Observing.
Who were they? What did they want with him? And why the red garb? Were they members of some cult? An Eastern or New Age religion, perhaps? Or were they part of some occultist circle, a hermetic society?
There were too many question, but no answers he could think of.
He had to go the Library of Congress now, but deep in his heart, he was afraid. Afraid of the men in red. He ignored this, and stepped out. His long coat flapped in the late spring wind.
The library itself was not far from where he was. As he kept walking towards it, he saw them again. They were standing at the entrance to the Jefferson building. There was no one outside, not one soul to see the men in red.
His heart skipped a beat. There were two of them, and they were staring directly at him. They were blocking his path, preventing him from entering the library.
He took a side route and entered a darkened alley. He would have to take the rear staff entry. As he did, he took a last look over his shoulder at the men, and saw them beginning to walk towards him. He quickened his pace. A cold sweat developed on his brow. He turned one last corner, which would lead to a staff parking lot. He stopped in his tracks. There were two more of them there.
The one closest to him smiled darkly. "Father Groggins. We've been waiting for you."
The elderly priest turned around and was about to run back when he noticed the first pair was scarcely twenty feet behind him, blocking off his only retreat.
The last thing Father John Groggins saw was a bright flash coming from his chest that made him fall to the ground. There was searing pain, and then, there was darkness.
