Chapter Text
Had that door knocker always been there?
Copia stared at the large brass Baphomet knocker on Papa III’s door. Its ruby eyes stared back at Copia, glittering in the dimly lit hallway. He felt as though it was peering inside his soul, then felt silly for having such thoughts. Grumbling to himself about how he needed to talk to Papa about it in case it needed to be logged into inventory, he grabbed the knocker and swung it against the door.
“It’s open.” Came Papa’s muffled voice. Even through the door, Copia couldn’t miss how heavy his voice sounded from lack of sleep. He smoothed a hand over his cassock and opened the door.
It was a mess.
Papers were thrown all over the office, many with crossed-out scribbles or had circles around random phrases. There were at least five paper cups of dried-up coffee and tea on Papa’s desk that surrounded him, the room warm from Papa having been cooped up in it all night.
He was wearing a purple robe that was tied loosely around his waist revealing a slim torso with dark hair on his chest. Copia looked at his boss with concern, at the sight of Papa’s messy hair and dark circles under his eyes, his face lacking paint. He was rapidly writing something on a piece of paper, his pen barely touching the paper with how quickly his hand was moving. In the year that he’s been Papa’s Cardinal he had never seen him so… disheveled.
He cleared his throat to announce himself but the other man gave no acknowledgement that he had heard him. “Papa? Are you well?” He asked him.
Papa finally glanced up at him, his hand pausing. “What?” He asked, then blinked. Copia watched as though a fog left his gaze as he stared at Copia. “What- Cardinal? What are you doing in here?”
Copia stepped forward until he was in front of Papa’s desk. “It’s well into the afternoon, Papa. I was sent here to check on you when you missed both meals and Mass. Are you…” He looked over the office. “Sick?”
Papa followed Copia’s look around the room with his own. He looked surprised as though he hadn’t noticed the state of his office. “I…” He slowly set the pen down and rubbed his hand. He seemed to have to coax it out of its curled-up state, wincing as he squeezed it in a fist. “I had a strange dream last night. About a song, I think. And I just… well, I had to write it down,” he said with an empty laugh.
“A song? But you just finished recording Meliora.”
“Yes, yes,” he agreed. He picked up a paper cup and sighed when he saw it only had a wet tea bag in it. “But it was… important. It will be important.”
Will be…? Copia felt a small shiver run down his back. There were strange things that happened in the Church, yes, but those words sounded particularly ominous.
“I think we should get you some food and a shower, Papa,” Copia said, walking around the side of the desk and awkwardly placing a hand on Papa’s shoulder. “You’re lucky Sister Imperator is on a business trip or it would’ve been her that would be in here right now.”
At the reminder of Sister Imperator, Papa nodded and stood. Copia was relieved to see that he was at least wearing underwear, albeit it was a pair of women’s underwear. He shook his head; it wasn’t the worst thing he’d seen Papa in.
“You’re right, Cardinal,” Papa said, tying his robe closed as he stepped away from the desk. Copia saw him hesitate as he looked down at the piece of paper he was writing on and couldn’t help but take a peek at it. He only caught a couple of phrases that were underlined before Papa grabbed it and shoved it into a drawer. Copia jumped at the sudden action, his face burning as though he was a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar.
“Sorry, Papa-”
“It’s alright,” Papa said. He was already halfway to the door, his feet dragging as exhaustion hit him step by step. “Just send a ghoul in here to clean up, if you will.”
Copia watched as he left, listening to Papa hum an unknowable tune under his breath. He looked down at the drawer and felt his hand twitch with the sudden need to open it and to read the rest of the song, to know what Papa had written. Instead, he followed Papa out and shut the door behind him, the words he had read clear in his mind’s eye.
“Now and for always, a perpetual rise,
A fall of illusion, your zenith fades into eternity.”
—
Copia jolted awake, the sound of a door closing echoing in his ears from his dream. His eyes automatically went to the alarm clock next to his bed, and he groaned softly when he saw it was barely six in the morning. He rubbed at his eyes and tried to remember his dream, but it was slowly slipping away with every second he was awake. Something about… Terzo? And a song? He knew it was a memory from his days as a Cardinal, but it was already fading away with every second he was awake. He shook his head and rolled out of bed, and began getting ready for the day.
Once he had showered and changed into his regular outfit, he carefully applied his paint around his eyes. As he finished, he stared into his white eye. He barely remembered what it was like to have two green eyes, when his life felt like his own. As much pride he took in seeing his left eye in the mirror, he also felt the weight it bore, the meaning it held.
The other men who shared it.
He was out of his bedroom without another glance back at the mirror.
—
Hours later, he fell back onto the couch with a sigh. He felt as though he had done enough work for a week, and at the same time, nothing at all. Yes, he had gone over paperwork, yes, he had signed along the dotted line more times than he could count, yes, he had called in Siblings and ghouls to make sure things were going smoothly. But it was boring work. Without the power trip that seemed to plague so many on top, being the boss of an empire was boring. There were so many things that came to mind that were better than what he was doing, so many things worthwhile.
A mic in his hand, a stage under his feet, screams for an encore in his ears-
“Sir?”
He startled. Judith stood in the doorway, looking a little frazzled.
“Ah, Judith!” He hopped to his feet and tried not to let it show how much his back ached. “What’s- eh- is there something I can help you with?”
“Well, sir,” she huffed, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Copia realized she was breathing hard as though she had run down here. “Papa won’t practice with his ghouls.”
Copia frowned. “Why not?”
“He… he said that there’s something wrong with them.”
Something wrong with them? “They were summoned a few days ago; there shouldn’t be any issues with them.”
Judith looked a little lost, an expression she had whenever someone mentioned anything with the ghouls around her. Even though she’s been here for about a month, she still struggled with understanding how the ghouls functioned. “I can ask Mrs. Psaltarian?”
“No,” Copia quickly said. He could handle this. He’s dealt with numerous ghouls before, he’ll figure out what’s wrong. “They should be in the chapel right now, yes? Let’s head there together.”
Judith sighed with relief. “Thank you, Frater.”
He nodded as she turned and led the way to the chapel. He had to hurry to keep up as she walked at a faster pace than he expected. Was the situation that bad?
After a few minutes they were at the door of the chapel. Copia could hear instruments being tuned and raised an eyebrow at Judith who shrugged helplessly. He opened the door and stepped through, his gaze first falling on Perpetua.
He was wearing that stupid mask, but only had face paint under it, the rest of his face bare. His fluffy sideburns were a lot more prominent without the paint, a sight that always annoyed the hell out of Copia. Of course his sideburns would grow out thicker than his. Perpetua was also wearing a thick turtle neck but had rolled up the sleeves and kept his gloves on, which he was fiddling with as he watched Copia and Judith walk in.
There were only three ghouls in the room which was abnormal; normally there would be at least five or six. Two wore a top hat and the third wore a hat that reminded Copia of what nuns wore. All of them had on sparkly skeleton jumpsuits and boots. If Copia was being honest he thought they looked ridiculous but didn’t say a word about it in case it would rile up Perpetua, something he would jump on if Judith wasn’t beside him.
“V,” Copia said. He waved at the ghouls who were each plucking or tuning an instrument. “Judith said that something was wrong with them?”
Perpetua glanced at Judith and nodded. “They sound… strange.”
Copia raised a brow and tamped down the ever-present annoyance that began whenever he saw Perpetua. “Like they’re out of tune? Can’t hold a note?”
“No,” Perpetua responded with a shake of his head. He looked at Judith and, with an apologetic quirk of his lips, asked, “I’m sorry, Judith, but could you leave Copia and me alone for a moment? This is something I only trust him with.”
Surprised, Copia didn’t stop Judith when she nodded and left the room, quietly closing the door behind her. The second she left, the patient look on Perpetua’s face was gone, replaced with anticipation and nervousness.
“Alright,” Copia said slowly and gestured at the ghouls again. Now that it was just the two of them, he wanted this done; it was always terribly awkward whenever it was just the two of them alone. “Show me.”
Perpetua sucked in a breath and nodded. “You,” he said sharply to a top hat ghoul. The ghoul looked up at him, quiet and obedient. It was quietly looking over a bass. “Sing the first verse and chorus of ‘Ritual.’ Now.”
Copia glanced at Perpetua, the harshness in his voice surprising him. “V, you shouldn’t-“
The other man raised a hand. Copia frowned at it. “Just listen, Frater. Please.”
Copia glared at him and crossed his arms, but stayed quiet as the ghoul stepped up to the mic and began to sing.
The ghoul’s elegant, operatic voice brought up a crystal clear image of the first Papa, Primo, into his mind. The deep timbre that was coming from the ghoul surprised him. The ghoul even lifted its hand in the air as though welcoming a crowd that wasn’t there. Before the ghoul could move into another verse, Perpetua waved his hand to silence it and pointed at the other top hat ghoul that was quietly watching.
“You,” he barked at it. “Come here.”
The ghoul nodded and stepped up to Perpetua. Once in front of him, it didn’t move, almost as though it had turned into a statue. Copia didn’t miss the way Perpetua wrinkled his nose at the sight. He couldn’t exactly blame him; it was a little unnerving.
“Sing the chorus of ‘Year Zero.’”
Copia watched the ghoul wrap a hand around the mic and lean into it as it sang. The commanding tone reminded him of Secondo’s domineering presence on stage, too resonant for a ghoul to possess. Actually, both of these ghouls possessed voices too strong and prominent to be backing vocals. A thought wiggled into Copia’s mind, something too horrific, too impossible to acknowledge.
He stayed silent but watched with sudden anxiety as Perpetua pointed at the third ghoul, this one seated on a stool among a variety of instruments. Copia felt his stomach turn at the sight of the tambourine in its hand.
“Sing the beginning of ‘He Is,’ the first few lines,” Perpetua demanded. Copia noticed how the ghoul stood fluidly from its seat, the tambourine clinking in its hand as it set it down. It stood at the mic and framed it between two hands but didn’t touch it as it sang, the behavior incredibly strange for a ghoul, and yet all too familiar.
“V-“ he started, but his voice died at the song that filled the room. Its voice was charming and melodic, enticing and dangerous. It was too stylistic, too unique to just be for harmonies. Sweat broke along Copia’s forehead and down his back, his hands too warm in his gloves. Copia met Perpetua’s eyes, the horror of the implications of what they were hearing mirrored in each other’s gazes. Without thinking, he turned and unplugged the mic from the wall. The ghoul stopped and looked at him in confusion, its tilted head and dark eyes making the hair on the back of his neck stand. Copia grabbed Perpetua and tugged them out of the chapel and into the closest bathroom.
When the door shut, he leaned against it and rubbed at his face. A memory surfaced, a moment with Nihil that he had long forgotten suddenly reawakened.
“What possesses the ghouls that makes them have a natural talent with singing and instruments?” He questioned Nihil as the two watched the ghouls prep the instruments before a rehearsal.
“Past musicians,” came Nihil’s short, clipped answer. Always saying the bare minimum to Copia.
“Like who?” Copia asked. “Famous ones like Bowie and Cash?”
“No,” Nihil said. Copia glanced at him and jolted at the sight of Nihil’s broad, crusted smile. Those glassy white eyes that he had always viewed as annoying at best were suddenly eerie and made Copia want to hide under a blanket. “Something better. Something… familiar.”
Memories of the Papas whirled in Copia’s head. Watching the Papas lead the church and become rock stars, his admiration and jealousy hand in hand. The way that the three of them had shouted at each other over some disagreement as Copia watched from the sidelines, and later when the three laughed about it over dinner. Serving Terzo as his Cardinal, becoming a close friend to him, an apprentice in a way. Neither of them had known at the time that Terzo was inadvertently training his successor.
And the memory of that awful, horrific, heavy feeling that had been Terzo’s head in his hands made his knees go weak, and he slid to the ground. Oh, Lucifer, the morning he had woken up to the news that the previous Papas were dead at the orders of Nihil and Sister Imperator. He remembered the feeling of numbness that had crept over his body throughout the day, the empty smiles and laughs he had shared with Sister and Nihil. The shakiness in his hands that he quelled with tight fists until his knuckles ached. It had all accumulated when he saw the three glass coffins rolled into a truck, Sister smacking it with satisfaction before it drove off. He had shut himself in his room for the rest of the day, huddled in his bed, wanting to scream with the warring feelings of guilt, shame, and that gut-wrenching anger beneath it all.
The legacies of three men cut short. All while he sat back and watched, while he let it happen, so that he could take their spot, so that he could have the legacy he always admired, and he knew, deep in his soul, that he would let it happen again just for one more chance-
“Frater.”
Copia flinched and looked up. Perpetua stood above him with a frown and raised a hand to his face. Copia did the same and felt streaks of tears on his cheek. He hurriedly stood and turned away from Perpetua as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at his face. Embarrassment warmed his cheeks at the sight of the black paint he saw on it.
Without looking at him, he asked Perpetua in a shaky voice, “What was the process for the ghoul summoning?”
When silence met him, he turned to face his brother. Perpetua looked confused. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”
“You weren’t- what do you mean? The next Papa is always present for the next summoning!”
“Well, obviously nobody told me the details!” Perpetua snapped back. “A Sibling just showed up with them at my office a few days ago and told me they were my ghouls and that I could expect them in the chapel whenever I needed to rehearse. That’s it.”
“So there was no ritual? Nothing?”
“Like I said, they just showed up at my office. I didn’t even know they were… not human… until today,” Perpetua finished lamely.
Copia shook his head. “That’s not right. The ritual of summoning a ghoul is a complicated process; you can’t not be there.” A tension headache was beginning to brew at the base of his neck; he lifted a hand and began to rub it. “Shit, maybe we do need Aunt Marika…”
However, the thought of going to his aunt, of saying something too awful to think about, let alone admitting out loud, made his head throb and his stomach clench. He found himself shaking his head and muttering, “Forget it,” as he turned to the door.
Perpetua grabbed his shoulder. “Where are you going?”
Copia batted his hand away. “None of your business. These are your ghouls; figure out what you want to do with them.”
Perpetua stared at him in shock. “I… seriously? I thought…”
“Thought what?” Copia snapped then winced at the sharp pain that shot through up his neck and stabbed into his brain.
Anger slowly melted the shock off of Perpetua’s face. His shoulders climbed slowly towards his ears, his fists clenching so hard Copia could hear the leather creaking. “I thought,” he said through gritted teeth. “That you’d help me, Frater. Since your job is, last I checked, to help me out since I’m Papa.”
Indignance made Copia ignore his rapidly growing headache as he stepped toward Perpetua. In a tight, quiet voice, he whispered to his brother, “I don’t have to do a damn thing for you, V. You want a lesson from a former Papa, hm? Here it is: grow a pair. You want shit done? Do it yourself.”
Perpetua reared back like he had been slapped, his eyes bright with emotion. “You know what? Fuck you.” He stomped toward the door and ripped it open. “Either you get me new ghouls or I won’t practice. That’s my decision.” And he slammed the door in Copia’s face, leaving him feeling appalled.
Lucifer, his head hurt.