FRATER EMPEROR

His heels clicked on the marble floor as he made his way through the empty ministry building. Ghouls, Sisters of Sin, Brothers of Sin, Father… all were at the same ritual. The very ritual Copy had sworn not to attend. But he didn't. He was upset. Furious, even. His brother couldn't just walk in and take over! It was rude. So rude. And it happened so suddenly that he felt abandoned. He wandered the corridors. Was everyone gone? Was everyone really at the ritual Perpetua was performing? Of course. No one loved him anymore. No one remembered his name. He could just burst into tears right then and there. He stopped in front of his cluttered new office. It wasn't as big as his papal chambers. And not as cozy. The bed creaked. The sofa creaked. The floor creaked. Everything creaked. He was irritated by his demotion. He wanted his king-size bed back. He wanted his large room back. The one with the marble floors and the bathroom. Not this room with the dirty carpet and no private bathroom. But that was what he wanted most of all.

This was the kind of love he once received. When he was pope, people were constantly throwing themselves at him. No woman or man could resist him. He had a beautiful body. His papal makeup was racy. Hell, even his cardinal's robe was sexy. But now he stood in front of the mirror in his office. Fat. That's how he saw himself. Old. That's how he described himself. He ran his finger over the wrinkles on his face. Instantly grabbed the black lipstick and, holding back tears, applied it to his upper lip. In that same moment, he suddenly realized... He was no longer in demand. He sobbed quietly, pushing back the remaining hair. It was starting to turn gray. He felt ugly. Unloved. Oh, how he longed to feel the loving touch of a woman... or the strong embrace of a man... it consumed him completely. He was alone. After the death of his mother, he was exhausted by absence.