Good news: the church compound turned out to be a lot bigger than he thought it was.
Better news: his map is working again.
Bad news: there are fucking Skeletons everywhere!
Worst news: pissed off Goth mommy Banshee is terrifying.
Currently, Stanley is running for his life.
He didn't think he'd ever run so much in his entire life, but thanks to his map now working, he was still making headway towards the exit. Even if he didn't, the fact that Moira seemed to be getting more desperate and the Skeleton's more active lent credence to this fact. Just as he thought he was beginning to see the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel, a thought suddenly entered his mind.
Hey, doofus, what about the bust?
And just like that, Stanley almost tripped over his feet. He completely forgot about the thing that was supposed to act as a key to the door that would get him out of the game!
You know what this means, right?
It means he'll have to turn back and find the damn thing.
'Where do I even start?'
A lull in the chase had him check the map to find that there were places in the cemetery that he hadn't checked. Of course, there's also the church where the bust is most likely located, even though he hadn't seen it when he was there earlier. He could just go back there, but he really didn't want to be in an enclosed space with a horde of undead and a pissed-off Banshee.
"And speaking of..."
Said horde and Banshee caught up with him and were now in the process of cornering him. Seeing this, he stretched for a bit, popping his joints and neck, before running away with purpose. He would search through the unexplored zones, hoping to find the bust or, at the very least, something that would allow him to circumvent his lack of weapon handicap. The flashlight wasn't cutting it because he witnessed a few of the skeletons he doused with holy light getting back up, meaning that the flashlight wasn't a permanent solution.
An Hour Later…
After far too long, Stanley searched the entire map, exploring all corners, and unfortunately, he found no bust. What he did find instead were seemingly miscellaneous items whose descriptions ended up being lore tidbits about Moira. Admittedly, the things he found were actually well written, and he managed to piece together a few damning things about the Banshee chasing after him. That didn't mean he didn't curse his luck, as he couldn't see how the information could help him in his current predicament, save to use it in a play for psychological warfare.
Said tactic sounded very appealing as time went on since, after a few flashes to the face, the Banshee learned to keep out of sight. Instead of charging in like a vengeful spirit, she got tactical and opted to wait in the background to strike during a moment of opportunity. That tends to happen when he gets swarmed or cornered by the Skeletons.
And speaking of, during the time Stanley was ducking, dodging, weaving, and flashing through the horde, he made a breakthrough. The initial fear of being surrounded by a horde of undead without a proper weapon eventually dulled with time as he realized that he wasn't dealing with a Bogey, a Minotaur, or even Zombies, but Skeletons. Now MGE Skeletons weren't 'bone-girls' per se but more like bone Golems. They had skeletal arms and legs; however, the torso and head were those of a woman, with decorative bone fragments such as bone masks and ribcage corsets.
Despite looking sturdier than classic RPG skeletons, the truth is that they went down relatively easily. He found this out during the futile search for the bust, which ended up being, well, a bust, and he got so frustrated that he ended up taking said frustration out on a one of them. As a reminder, Stanley is an incubus with enough strength to lift and carry Ezraphel, who is at least three times his body weight, and combined with a rage boost, the Skeleton didn't have a chance.
Fast forward and it turns out he didn't even need to use the flashlight for anything other than Moira herself, a fact that seemed to irritate the Banshee to no end. He had the distinct impression that she knew he was gathering information on her or at least desecrating her special spots (since that's where he found said information) because for every lore bit he found, she made a desperate lunge for him. Moira seems awfully keen on grabbing him, and while he has no idea what would happen if she actually did, he's going to err on the side of caution and not find out.
He still had a contingency for that, or if the flashlight fails at a critical juncture, but who knows if punching her in the face would actually serve to drive her away or piss her off even more? In any case, he eventually made his way back to the church with newfound resolve. The Skeletons attacks, which had been progressively escalating in both numbers and tactics, started tapering off the closer he got until the bone-girls stopped altogether. It seems Moira understood what he was trying to accomplish and accepted his challenge.
The fact that the horde of Skeletons kept their distance and the winds no longer carried the wailing rage of a Banshee would have been enough of an indicator. Then he arrived at church, and the doors opened to pitch blackness that dared any brave or foolish soul to enter.
"Well, this is a fuuuck that moment if I ever saw one," he mumbled.
He took a perfunctory glance over his shoulder to see a veritable wall of skeletons on all sides. He wasn't going to be leaving without a fight, not that he planned to run away in any case.
But still…
"If you think I'm stepping into pitch darkness, being a corpse must have rotted your fucking mind, Moira," he yelled out.
There was a beat of silence as the atmosphere itself seemed to pause before torches were ignited by blue fire, brightening the interior. He definitely didn't earn any points with that, but, eh, she already wanted him dead. The moment he stepped into the church, the doors slammed shut behind him, which only elicited an annoyed look over his shoulder. Looking back, he found Moira standing before him at a respectable distance.
"I know who you are, thief," the Banshee said.
"Saw my wanted poster, did you?"
"Yes, the others are searching for you as we speak."
"What about you? Looking to cash in the reward?"
"I care not for wealth," she said, shaking her head. "I will have you return the sacred artifacts."
At this, she glared, and he almost snapped, 'They're fucking D-batteries!'
"As much as I would like to do that, I heard that your 'sacred artifact' is the only thing that can get past enchanted armor. Plus, you know, it's the only thing protecting me from you and your Skeleton army outside."
Before he even started the conversation, his eyes were surreptitiously scanning the room for the bust, to no avail.
Moira tilted her head. "You seem distracted. Are you perhaps looking for this?"
She reached behind her to produce a marble bust in her likeness.
'Well, so much for plan, whatever the heck I'm at right now,' he thought sarcastically.
"I understand that these sculptures act as keys of sorts, and you need them to leave this place."
"Any chance you'd let me leave with that?"
"No"
"Well, in that case…"
Like a seasoned Red Dead Redemption player, Stanley drew the flashlight with quickness. As the holy light hit her face, Moira shrieked, staggering back and dropping the bust as she covered her face. Stanley shut off the flashlight and sprinted towards her before leaping up to do a drop kick complete with a Bruce Lee noise.
"Chowah!"
It's a good thing he had plenty of practice before; otherwise, he would have flubbed that sequence. Otherwise, his feet landed on her chest and sent her flying into the pulpit, but he didn't really care about that. He scrambled to his feet, picked up the bust, and stored it. Just a wailing scream knocked him back off his feet.
Before he could get back up, Moira was on top of him. She was crying once again, though the fury marred her otherwise sorrowful visage. As she straddled him, Moira made constant grabs for the flashlight; however, he successfully held her off. When her attempts failed, she switched tactics, grabbing Moira by the head and proceeding to scream directly into his face. At this proximity, her ever-present aura of sorrow was already affecting him; however, the scream broke the proverbial dam.
Without his prompting, he felt a prevailing sadness he hadn't felt since his uncle's funeral, and combined with the memory, it stirred his emotions enough that tears fell from his eyes as he choked back a sob. The only thing keeping him from outright bawling was his stubborn pride and anger.
"You bitch," he spat or hiccupped.
'I'll give you something to cry about!'
With that thought, he gave her a headbutt, and it wasn't a soft one. As the Banshee recoiled, he used the flashlight to bash the side of her head, throwing her off. With tears and snot on his face, Stanley got to his feet and shined the holy light on the laid-out Banshee, who gave another shriek of pain and fright before scrambling on all fours in a row of pews.
Stanley did not let her get far.
"Where do you think you're going?" He screamed out, feeling like Ace Ventura wrangling an alligator, he grabbed the Banshee by the hem of her dress and hauled her back. "Don't start what you can't finish!"
*RIIIP*
As the thin-looking fabric (not so) surprisingly ripped Stanley fell on his butt with a yelp. He ended up ripping damn near the entirety of the bottom half of her dress.
'Isn't this shit supposed to be enchanted?'
And to the surprise of no one, it appeared that Moira chose to go commando, leaving him staring at her bare, pale ass before she flipped herself over to sit on said ass. She ended up not giving him an unobstructed view between her legs as she repositioned to cover them up.
"You pervert!" she screeched with a blush on her pale cheeks.
"Says the bitch wearing no panties under a thin near see-through dress!" he shot back wiping his face with the before tossing the fabric.
Whether it be ripping her dress, using it as a rag, or his words, Moira let out another scream. Stanley brandished the flashlight again to shine on her just as the sound wave hit, causing it to go off course a bit. Suddenly, Moira's scream was cut off by a salacious moan. Stanley's bleary vision cleared to find the Banshee down, having been knocked back by the light; however, her legs were still up and now spread.
Also, the light was shining directly between her legs .
Huh?
The light fizzled out, but the damage was done. Well he didn't see any actual damage, but he did see something that caused him to almost pull a Mr. Krabs and pull out his eyes to wipe them clean. He settled for thoroughly wiping his face clean of tears (and snot) before looking back.
'Nope, my eyes aren't deceiving me.'
What Stanley was referring to was the miniature silver winged cross that is the symbol of the Chief God perched on the Banshee's clitoris. Stanley could only stare, and as Moira shakily sat up from having her pussy blasted by holy light, she saw where his eyes were and panicked.
"D-don't look!" She yelled, attempting to cover, only for Stanley to wordlessly shine the holy light between her legs before her hands could reach it.
Another moan of pleasure, this one louder, escaped her lips before she fell back. Her body shook and quivered, especially her legs, and as for between them, well, let's just say she was leaking. Stanley watched this with a blank expression; however, his thoughts were anything but. As he put together what he was seeing along with the bits of lore and formed a hypothesis, his eyes widened.
"Get the fuck out," he breathed, "really?"
As Moira once again sat up, she found Stanley looming over her like a specter—a complete reversal of their roles.
"Hey," he began looking down at her, "so is this whole 'lamenting priestess' shtick some kind of fetish for you?"
"Of course not!"
The expression of outrage immediately changed when he once again shined the holy light on her pussy.
As he did, he continued, "Really? Because the instant aheago from having holy light shined on your rosary clit pierced pussy says otherwise."
Moira shook with pleasure as he stopped, yet she gritted her teeth and glared through tear-stained eyes at him, "Stop that!"
"Hmm, nope"
Once again, he shined the light on her WAP and took a perverse amount of joy watching her buck, shake, and writhe in pleasure. Was he going too far? Maybe, but after spending the last hour ducking her and her army, there was something cathartic about finally having one over her. Sensing that she was reaching her peak, Stanley turned off the light, eliciting a frustrated moan from her.
As she looked at him, he gave a shrug and said, "I thought you wanted me to stop."
The glare returned, but before she could retort, he held a hand up.
"So here's what's going to happen: I'm going to walk out that door and out of your hair."
"You will do no-"
"Shut up," she said while threateningly waving the flashlight, causing her to flinch and stop talking, "as I was saying. I'm leaving, but before I do, and I can't believe I'm saying this, I will give you the greatest orgasm of your unlife, and if you can make yourself useful to me somewhere down the line, I'll do it again."
"…"
"Or I can kill you permanently."
"I have the blessing of the Goddess of Death. I cannot die."
"You want to stress-test that?" he asked with a menacing look.
The effect was immediate as the Banshee once again flinched "no."
"So what's it going to be? And keep in mind that either way, I'm leaving."
Moira shifted uncomfortably, saying nothing but spreading her legs and lifting up the top of her dress, revealing her pale breast, with each nipple covered with a winged rosary piercing.
"…nice."
'At least I don't have to use my hands.'
"Y-you better not disappoint me boy, o-otherwise, I will be very cross."
So says the red-faced Goth mommy, presenting herself to him with equal parts trepidation and barely concealed excitement.
"…"
"Fuck it, hands on."
Meanwhile…
Ezraphel watched as her Stanley began to absolutely ravish the Banshee-Golem; its cries of pleasure echoed through the speakers of the television from which the image was presented in 4K HD. But even as she marveled at his work, Ezraphel bit the hem of the wide-brim hat that was part of her costume in frustration and jealousy.
'Oh sure, he does it to advance in a stupid game, but when I ask him to do it, he gets a conniption!' she all but cried.
"Stanley, you IDIOT!"