Fifteen men died the night Reverend Montague Bremner lapsed in his priestly duties.  It was his inaction, following a request from a Mr Thurlow Breene for sanctuary, which led to these terrible deaths.  Allow me to recap the events which preceded that fateful night;

The congregation had recently left the church following Mass, leaving the Reverend to contemplate the subject of his address that evening - Passion and Compassion, the balance of demonstrating, and acting upon, strong emotions against the Christian virtue of giving aid and understanding to the who require it.  A few choice readings from both the Old and New Testaments had provided colourful counterpoints to both arguments.  Indeed, he had spoken that these traits were worldwide and had played major parts in the actions of all men, from the Saviour's time to the present.  How prophetic his words were to be in only a short while.  Of course, in the manner of all men who reiterate themselves time and again, the words themselves had lost the meaning and vibrancy they once held in his youth, and he, at some deeper personal level, paid no heed to the warning he had so recently preached to his flock.  Had he retained the exuberance and passion he had demonstrated as a younger man, perhaps he would have listened with more compassion and attention that night, when Thurlow Breene came a-knocking at his door so late.

The sound made the Reverend start in his chair as he sat dozing, the fire in the hearth having burned low during his slumber, the half finished glass of brandy still standing on the fireside table top.  Indeed, as he woke from sleep, he attributed the sharp crack of the knocker to the dying embers of the wood within the fire, and again settled back, closing his eyes.

Again came the knocking, more urgently this time, four quick raps of the brass handle, and Rev. Bremner, not so deep in slumber, heard the noise for what it was and, grumbling, arose to open the heavy church door.

There, outside, standing in the pouring rain, his face in shadow, the street lamp at his back, stood Thurlow Breene.  As the door opened, this disheveled shadow of a man staggered into the church grasping at the door for stability.  As he entered into the light, Reverend Bremner could see the man's reddened eyes and could smell the fumes of alcohol upon his breath.  He spoke;

'Preacher!  Thou must, if ye be a man of God, afford mine damned soul sanctuary this night upon Holy ground else, come the crowing of the cock, a dead man I shall be.'

The Reverend, assuming the man to be a drunk, spake thus;

'My son, this holy house is a refuge, that is true, but a refuge of God,  It cannot be a halfway hostel for those who have imbibed too freely and run from their own imaginings.  I suggest you move down to Mrs Trimble's shelter and sleep off your excesses.  Good night.'

Preparing to close the door, the man outside grasped the Reverend's collar and again spoke;

'I have made a terrible mistake, the miscalculation of which, I believe, to have dangerously placed my very essence in jeopardy.  I beg thee, do not compound this, mine own mistake, with thine own, for as cruel and evil is mine error, thine wilt surely be multiplied tenfold if I am not given chance to reverse mine actions.'

At this, the Reverend, tiring now of the man's pronouncements, unclasped himself from Thurlow Breene's grip and pushed him back out onto the pavement, slamming the door.  He stood there awhile listening to the man sobbing on the church steps when, at last, despairing at the pitiful sound and preparing to open the door, he heard the man gasp, as if in shock, and the shuffling sounds of the man's feet as he walked down the steps.  The Reverend had started to turn the handle but stopped when he heard the man outside begin to call on God, the Saviour and all of the Saints to protect him.  Reverend Bremner heard him running down the street, all the time crying out for help.  As he listened further he heard a strange noise also moving along the street - a noise he had no experience to name.  Opening the door a fraction he saw the source of the noise.  Running past his church was a creature, not of this Earth, with altogether too many legs, each one ending in clawed hoofs.

As he felt himself falling into a faint, he was certain he heard a low, rumbling roar followed by a terrible scream.

II

When he awoke in the morning, Reverend Bremner found himself where he had fallen with a vague recollection of a strange meeting and conversation with a drunk the night before, leaving him with an uneasy feeling of dread.  As he came fully to his senses he remembered Thurlow Breene's request for sanctuary and his anxious pleading for the Reverend to save him from some unknown force.

But the Reverend knew for he had heard (indeed, seen) it running past his church; running, with all its clawed feet and terrible voice, running as it pursued the unfortunate Thurlow Breene.

With some trepidation he opened the church doors and peered down the street.  Seeing no unusual activity he turned to reenter and saw a hastily scrawled note pushed under the door.  It read;

'Inform the 13 of the Black Seekers that I, Thurlow Breene, have discovered what they seek, but doom is upon us all.'

Not knowing what to make of the cryptic note, Reverend Bremner placed it in his pocket and retired to his quarters.

His housekeeper, Mrs Burton, had evidently already called as, upon his table, lay a copy of the daily newspaper.  He sat down to read the morning's news before starting preparation for the day's service, when his eye caught the lead headline.  With shaking hands he began to read, horror growing as he read on;

MURDER IN CHURCH STREET!

'Last night, in the vicinity of Church Street, local residents reported an unusual disturbance.  The Police were called and found the body of a man.  The man, identified as a Mr Thurlow Breene, was viciously attacked and killed in the street.  Police are currently baffled by the nature of the man's injuries.  Several large claw marks, as though by a dog but much larger, are evident on his body, or rather, what remains of it - as the body is headless!  It appears that the man's head was bitten off as police have identified what they believe to be teeth marks evident on the neck and shoulder area.

Inspectors from Scotland Yard are expected to begin a thorough investigation into this and another bizarre occurrence which also occurred last night in London.

At a private club, the bodies of thirteen men were found - each one of which, decapitated in the same gruesome manner as the unfortunate Mr Breene.

Police do not rule out the involvement of the Chinese Mafia, which has in the past been known to make violent and bloody retribution against its trespassers...'

The story continued but Reverend Bremner knew the evil truth was far more sinister than any organised criminals, for indeed, he had seen the unnatural monster which had slain Thurlow Breene as well, it seemed, as the rest of his conspirators whom he had been so recently requested to warn of impending danger.

So fourteen men died that night, the night Reverend Montague Bremner took no heed of his own sermon and denied Mr Thurlow Breene sanctuary on Holy ground.

And here my tale ends.

Oh, the fifteenth?  The fifteenth man who died, you ask?  Well, as Thurlow Breene had warned Reverend Bremner the evening before his own death; that, as surely as his crime was cruel and evil, that of the Reverend's would be tenfold greater.  And, surely, Reverend Montague Bremner’s subsequent suicide, the ultimate sin against God, fulfilled that half of Thurlow Breene's dire warning.