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Rain reveals her secrets and Marcello learns a hurtful truth.

It had never been so intense as this. My mouth was dry, and I took a sip watered down lemonade. Satiated, I drifted off to sleep.
The alarm clock woke me at five in the morning. Weary, and unenthusiastic as I was about the day ahead, I managed to make it downstairs in time to fix something to eat, then, accompany Dad to church. It wouldn't be easy to act interested in his sermon, with my horned lover still lingering on my mind.

"Morning, Stella." Dad said from behind his paper.

"Good Morning," I poured black coffee into his cup, and then into my own.

"Didn't hear your machine running last night when I got up for a glass of water. You fall asleep early?" Dad slurped coffee, reaching for the Sunday paper.

Dammit...

"Some of it was hand embroidery," I almost choked on my own words. I set the plate of toast and scrambled eggs in front of the old man, trying not to look too guilty.

"You're such a talented girl Stella Rose." He smiled and picked up his toast. "You make me proud." I was a talented liar, and my hands had been occupied by activities that required no thread or thimble.

"Thanks, Dad." I kissed the top of his wiry, gray hair, and felt an ever so slight amount of remorse for lying to him. I took our plates to the sink, then, went upstairs to bathe and change for church. It was no different than any other Sunday, except much of the congregation had hungover, or guilt ridden looks about them.

"Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour." My father's voice bellowed, echoing from the pit. I sat thinking how I longed to be devoured by the hoofed, black haired man I'd seen the night before. The thought made me squirm on my pew. Robert waved at me from across the aisle to get my attention. I pretended not to notice. At that moment, sitting pretty in my Sunday best, I decided I would pay a visit to the carnival one last time, after church. Dad would spend the rest of the day making rounds to visit seniors, and other folks who couldn't get out to hear him. That would give me the chance to see my devil one last time, before he left town. The service seemed to drag on, but when it was finally over, Dad took the time to socialize with church members, then, dropped me off back at home. He was always out late into the evening on Sundays, chatting, praying, and eating, with several different families. So, I had plenty of time to myself. I usually spent the alone time sewing, but not today. I skipped up the stairs to my room, put on a more casual dress, and started the walk back to the midway.

When I got up to the gate, I noticed the place was near empty, and they were taking down the rides. The ticket taker told me that Sundays were often bad for them in small towns where most people attended church services. I told him I understood, but I'd like to still have a look around, if that was okay. He laughed, and said if I was paying, he didn't care. He added that a few things were still open. I walked immediately over to where his exhibit had been. It was gone. I had no other reason to be there, so I roamed around for about ten minutes, and decided I should just go home. But, I became worried as the wind picked up, bringing in leaden, gray clouds. Within a few moments, lightening flashed across the horizon, and hail fell fast from the gloomy afternoon sky. Afraid of being pelted by the icy stones, I climbed up into a random rail car. I shut the heavy door behind me, as the storm was picking up. I couldn't have been prepared me for what I saw when I pulled myself together. When my eyes adjusted to the flickering, amber light inside the car, I was shocked to see him, sitting shirtless, relaxed on a bunk, wine bottle in hand. His great horns cast a formidable shadow behind him, when he raised his head to look at me straight on.

"I didn't send for a woman tonight", The monster said, in a dark, seductive tone.

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