He stood under the shadow of an archway before the boarded up door of an old, abandoned church; a tall man dressed in black, leaning against the old cracked stones that gave him shelter from the harsh wind that howled down the streets of the busy city. Caution tape painted bright yellow lines around the perimeter of the building and warned passersby away while in the back, a demolition team was setting up to bring the whole place down. Slowly, his fingers trailed down the wall to his left and he closed his eyes. His forehead pressed to the cold stone and he listened to the stomping feet of the men inside.

"Sir?" the voice came from behind him.

His neck craned to let him take a peek over his shoulder at the speaker.

"Sir, it isn't safe here. I'm gonna to have to ask you to step away from the building. It's barely standing."

He wasn't lying. Alexander could hear it in the stones, he could feel the weight of the church pressing down on them and the thick support beams in the walls that shuddered and groaned when the wind blasted itself against the sheer surface of the enormous building.

"Of course," he didn't argue, but turned and stepped down from the alcove. "Sorry, I used to attend this church when I was younger. I'm just sad to see it go."

The man gave him an odd look and shrugged. "They're building a new one once the lot is cleared."

"So I've heard. What happened" It was sturdy, last time I saw it."

"You just get back in town or something?"

"Well, yes. I've been traveling a lot. Business, I haven't been home in oh...twenty years now."

"Well," the man scratched his head and shrugged. "A bunch all happened at once, really. Part of the roof collapsed during Sunday mass, no real reason as far as anyone could see. Killed three people, hospitalized one. Then there was the shooting a few years later."

"Shooting?" Alexander asked, looking positively shocked by the news.

"Yeah. You didn't hear about it?" he shrugged again. "Some nutjob came in one night while the staff was cleaning and started firing off bullets at everyone. Two of the cleaning ladies were injured, but they made it alright. The pastor was shot and killed though. Think the shooter's name was Tom somethin"..." he scratched at his jaw and looked away for a moment before snapping his fingers. "Yeah, Thomas Flynn. That was it. Still servin" his sentence, I think."

"How dreadful," Alexander replied with a frown. The pastor's death was hardly a great loss to the world. That man, he knew, was an alcoholic, a liar and brutal to the point of savagery and Alexander always suspected him to be the cause of a disappearing girl who was later found in a warehouse, her body drained of blood.

"Yeah, he was a real piece of work."

"But you said they caught him?"

"That's right. He got a life sentence, if I remember right. So I don't think he's gonna bother anyone else ever again. Though if you ask me, he shoulda been put down."

"Hmm. Men like him certainly should be kept away from the rest of us."

"That's the truth," the worker peered curiously up at Alexander. "You know, you look familiar."

"Did you attend this church?"

"Yeah, but I was just a kid when all this started. We stopped going after all that."

"Not sure where else you might have seen me, then. Must be one of those faces," Alexander offered with a helpless shrug and a polite smile. "Anyways, I'm sorry to have taken any of your time. I just wanted to see it one last time before it was gone."

"Not a problem, sir. You have a good day," the worker tugged his glove off and reached out with his hand, which Alexander shook as he nodded back to him.

"You, too.?