Mac stared, dumbfounded. I know what's going on, he suddenly thought. I've actually died and this.. this is the beginning of my punishment. I'm a dead soul who believes he's a minister while all along the devil is in some control room laughing his ass off this very moment. He wanted to clap Dukey on the back, congratulation him on a great acting job. Hell, the entire set up was amazing, really. A big elaborate hoax as a welcome to the start of his long burn. Why not play along? Maybe hell has it's own version of the Oscars?<br/><br/>Rushing past Dukey, Mac rolled up his sleeves as he flew out the door towards the barn. "I call upon thee, Oh Lord! I beg thee, my great Father, help heal this poor woman!" These words bellowed out as the minister strode towards the barn.<br/><br/>Stopping in his tracks, Mac raised his hands high, taking in a deep, exaggerated breath. "I smell the workings of Lucifer! Yes, the vile beast himself is at play!" I will be committed, Mac chuckled to himself. What the hell! When in Rome, do as the Romans! "Clara!", he yelled out, "Child, please do not succumb to the temptation that right now wraps it's lusty, wicked claws upon your soul!" As the last word parted his lips, Mac felt a strange sensation ripple through his entire body. A driving force that nudged him on.. like a voice whispering.. encouraging.<br/><br/>For the first time since arriving to this godforsaken town, Mac felt he had finally embraced what he was. A warrior of God. A power surged inside his veins, humming like a an electric current. "Lucifer!", he shook with rage, arms raised towards the sky, "You will not take this woman nor her unborn children! I command you to depart! Return to the sewer you call hell! Leave these good people alone!"<br/><br/>Realizing his eyes were squeezed shut, the minister slowly opened them, not sure what to expect. These people have made me one of their own, he thought. I have lost my mind.<br/>