[ WP ] You find a long abandoned church and decide to look inside . In the darkness beyond , you think you see a figure move behind the altar .

Scene for a certain monster from EU Doctor Who 
 
... 
 
 He liked to go up to the old church with his camera. 
 
 He liked the way the ivy leaves grew across the weathered grey facade, like the sweeping locks of a dryad. He liked the sunlight streaming through those half-broken stained glass windows, casting a tapestry of strange colours onto the bare stone floor. He liked the enclosure of tall fir trees that closed in behind the crumbling stone angels lining the pillars outside. 
 
 It was as far removed as you could be from civilization within the concrete jungle. It made for great shots too, especially at sunset. The building had character, unlike the identical glassy facades of the numerous skyscrapers. 
 
 There were a few strange things about the church however. 
 
 He always wondered why he'd never seen any graffiti around the place, or any signs of homeless living. The place was perfectly pristine, other than the wild growths of nature slowly turning it into a living environment. 
 
 He always wondered who that faceless saint was, standing behind the altar. It was some female canonized figure, hands held to shield its face, as if weeping for some indescribable loss. 
 
 One day he found out. He wished he had n't. 
 
 He'd gotten careless walking back from the church one day. He'd been rather absorbed in photographing a particularly elaborate rusting trellis behind the church and by the time he turned to walk home the streets were getting dark. 
 
 He tried to hurry along. It was n't a good part of town. It was n't entirely unexpected when he saw the gangsters walking in his direction. One of them looked at him and started reaching into his coat. The other drew a knife. 
 
 He ran for it. There was a gunshot but he managed to slip behind the fence. He was disoriented in the darkness, was n't sure where to go. In the end, some terrified instinct prompted him to return to the church. He knew the place better than his own home at this point. He could hide until they went away. 
 
 He vaulted over the broken wire fence outside the church grounds and climbed through an open window. The men were following him closely behind. He could hear their shouts and distant curses. He looked around frantically and spotted a still intact confession booth. He slipped inside the priest's chamber, drawing the wooden lattice door shut behind him. 
 
 He sat there in silence for a moment, trying to quieten his breath. 
 
 He heard the sound of shifting rock. He glanced up, catching a flicker of movement at the corner of his eye. He squinted in the darkness through the slits in the wooden door, wondering if his pursuers had caught up with him. 
 
 There was no one standing behind the altar, just the statue of the unknown saint, hands covered hauntingly over its face. He shut his eyes. He opened his eyes again. 
 
 No... he'd imagined it, had n't he? Had the saint always been smiling underneath her hands? 
 
 He had no time to think on the matter further. There was a loud clatter as the main doors of the church were busted down. He heard the gangsters moving around, muttering at each other. He sat back down and tried to quell his breathing again even as his heart rate sped up. 
 
 `` He's not here, Andrew.'' 
 
 `` I saw him enter the building. He's got ta be here. C'mon, lets keep looking for a bit, Mike.'' 
 
 `` For that camera?'' 
 
 `` Hey, looks like some kind of antique. Could be worth something. He looked pretty well dressed too. I think we could-'' 
 
 `` Andrew... Andrew?'' He heard the click of a gun and footsteps, nearing his booth. He tensed, peeking carefully out of the slots on the door. 
 
 His eyes widened. 
 
 The man, Mike, he supposed, was looking around the church warily, backing towards the altar. He looked at the altar. The statue of the saint was missing. 
 
 He blinked. He heard the grinding of rock against rock. 
 
 He stumbled back against the wall of the confession booth, breathing heavily as he observed the scene outside. 
 
 Blink. The saint stood behind the man, arms outstretched. The man turned around, eyes bulging. He brought up his gun. 
 
 Blink. The sound of gunfire rapidly tapering away against impenetrable stone. The man was gagging, his neck enfolded by an arm of stone. 
 
 Blink. The man was gone, just no longer there. The saint was looking directly at him with loving, blank eyes. 
 
 He stumbled out of the booth, fingers slipping on his camera as he did so. 
 
 Snap. A flash of light illuminated the saint standing a step down from the altar. 
 
 Snap. The saint stood in the central aisle of the church, between the pews, arms outstretched. 
 
 Snap. It stood by the gates of the church, watching him half-stumble, half-run into the streets. It was smiling, even if its arm was covering its eyes. 
 
 He ran all the way home, not even bothering to go to the police. Who would even believe his tale? He just had to post the photos online, just let everyone else out there see what he'd just seen. Someone would understand... 
 
 He logged on to reddit and sent up the pictures one by one. His eyes itched as he stared at the face of the angel in his computer. It was smiling as it reflected off his eyes. 
 
 He rubbed his eyes again, feeling something like granite sand falling onto his cheek- but that was impossible. He must have imagined it certainly. 
 
 There was something in his eye... 
 
... 
 
 *That which holds the image of an angel becomes itself an angel... *
