He walked into every house in the town like he owned. It wasn't like anybody even had any locks, it was considered uncivilized to keep people out. However, it was considered even less civilized to just walk into places, rifle through others' belongings and take any money or object that they found.

She had always been told by everybody. "don't be rude," so when he approached her she was determined to not be rude. That didn't mean that she had to be nice or even honest with him. She smiled and asked, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

The guy stared at her as though she had gone insane. "Haha, I guess not," he responded.

At least he wasn't that stupid, but she knew about all the stories that surrounded her home town  an thought she might as well play with them. So, she decided to take it just a bit further to mess with his head and make him uncertain. Staring unblinking at him she said with one of her creepiest smiles, "That white hand on your shoulder, it's not real." 

He whipped around looking at his shoulders, first his right then his left. He obviously saw nothing, there was't ever anything to see. He stared at her for a moment, she still had't blinked and maintained the small smile, and visibly shuddered before quickly walking away.

It was good that he didn't look back because  she was covering her mouth to smother her laughter. When he disappeared around a corner she uncovered her mouth and allowed herself to let out the laughter. She ended up on the ground tears steaming from her face as she recovered from her laughing fit. His face was just too good. trying to hide the fact that he was freaking out internally and doing an awful job at it. "Oh," she giggled, wiping the tears from her face, "I should do that again. That was the most fun I've had in this boring town for a while." She simply had to tell her friends and try to get them in on it. If she was lucky she might be able to get the whole town to play along and really freak out the next rude guy who came through the town acting like he owned the place. This was going to be so good.

“I would rather you remember me as your savior,” she spoke softly, looking at the small babe in the crib, “but I won’t delude myself into believing you will see that.” The woman carefully lifted the infant. The child didn’t cry. Even if they did, nobody was left to hear them. Her heart broke every time she did this, but she couldn’t allow these children to live with their parents.

She had begun stealing children two years ago, when she began to have visions, visions of the worst kind. Parents, beating their children to death, and getting away with it. She stopped them before they could get worse, or before they could start. She would know the children instinctively, despite never having laid eyes on them and she would whisk them away. She would then always know just who had been praying for a child and leave the infant there.

Nobody ever knew it was her. Nobody would ever suspect that a nun was the one stealing babies. She knew that nobody else saw her work as good, but she knew that she was doing God’s work. He had blessed His daughter with the gift to save the children, to let them know what love is. She left the house without a backward glance at the bloodstained room the parents were in.

“Don’t worry my dear,” she whispered, “no one will hurt you ever again.” She kissed the child and placed them down on the threshold and knocked on the door. She raced away into the shadows of the night away from the bloodstained child to clean herself.

****

The Next Day

Father Joseph looked at the newspaper. Another child was found dead on a threshold. This had become an almost common occurrence over the past couple years. It sickened him to think that someone could be so depraved.

Sister Margret sat in her room smiling as she read the paper. The child was now in Heaven where they would know the love of God. She awaited her next mission from God as a serpent watched, unseen from the ceiling.

“Morning Star?”

Satan cringed, he hated that God would just drop in, unannounced. Don’t get him wrong, he had nothing against the guy, but he was just so boring with all of his ‘Commandments’ about ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, it was infuriating. But God was his dad so it would only be polite to answer. “I haven’t gone by that name in years, Dad.”

“Sorry, Satan,” Satan could hear the cringe in his voice. At least God accepted Satan’s new life after his fall.

“So, how’s the soul torturing going?”

“Soul torturing? What are you talking about?” Satan was honestly, incredibly confused. Hardly any souls were tortured now a day. He used to torture nearly everybody that came to him to get his anger out, until he realized that most of them were pretty awesome and God just hadn’t let them into Heaven for pretty bullshit reasons. Torture was the lowest thing on his to do list because he just didn’t get much satisfaction from it.

“Well, yeah, isn’t that what you’re doing with all the damned that I’m sending you?”

“No! No, Dad I hardly do any torture at all, I hate it. Most of the ‘damned’ are pretty awesome. You have sent me every gay, every lesbian, heck you even sent me Bruce freaking Lee because he didn’t worship you. Do you know how cool these people are? It’s pretty much a party 24/7, I bet it’s way better than your boring, fashion-less heaven. All that serenity and those white robes that haven’t been stylish since Jesus went down for his little Earth holiday. I’m pretty sure that we’re way cooler in our fiery inferno than you are in your clouds.”

“But, but,” Satan felt rather smug having reduced the mighty and powerful creator to a spluttering mess. Finally, God was able to get a sentence out, “But you’re evil.”

“Yeah, so why wouldn’t I reward and thank the ones that don’t suck. Obviously I don’t reward the truly awful ones; like the rapists and the ones who murder just for kicks, but even then, I wait until they see the error of their ways and then I let them out of the torture chambers to join the rest of us.”

God looked genuinely baffled, opening and closing his mouth, no sound coming out, like a fish out of water. Satan just smirked, it was fun to shock God, very rare, but fun nonetheless. Satan glanced at his watch and realized he had to go. “Well, not that I don’t love when you drop in, but I’ve got a kingdom to run, so I’m gonna have to go. Later, Pops,” With that, Satan turned on his heel and calmly strode out, allowing a full grin to break out on his face, leaving God gaping after him. 

Becoming a unicorn was a terrible idea. I thought it would be pretty cool and the spell said it would only last two days, a perfect weekend. Nope. An awful, awful idea. It has just been one problem after another. The first thing was that apparently unicorns can only eat flowers and nothing else. Not that they prefer it (I have no idea if real ones like it), I mean that it is literally the only thing the unicorn body will allow me to eat. Have you ever tasted a flower? I have. It was gross! And of course, the moment someone saw me, they wanted to kill me. Apparently any unicorn body part is worth a killing (pun intended) on the black market. Blood, horn fragments, hair, hell I even heard someone say something about my tonsils. Gross! I tried to tell the hunters that I was human, but being a unicorn, I couldn’t form human words. So instead of spending a fun, relaxing weekend prancing around in glades, I’ve been running myself ragged trying to throw the hunters off my track. Oh, and the best part of it? The spell was supposed to wear off two hours ago. Well, you know what I still am? A goddamn freaking unicorn! I want to kill whoever the hell it was that wrote that stupid spell. Speaking of which, it better wear off soon, because if another person tries to kill me for my body parts, I’m going to gore them. You want my horn so bad? Here, have it, straight through your chest!