Earth, March 24th

During the witching hours, Gabriel and Carlos sat in the chapel, underneath the gaze of Jesus Christ himself, leaning outwards from the cross, his saddened expression visible from the statue erected between the two large stained-glass windows behind the pulpit.

“Gabriel, I’ll figure something out to break our curse,” Carlos promised.

“It’s okay. I’ve accepted the things I cannot change, and I’ll focus on the things I can,” Gabriel replied.

Carlos smiled, happy that someone remembered his many sermons.

“The Serenity Prayer.”

Gabriel sat up and nodded sheepishly and again he started to believe that there might be a light at the end of the tunnel because there was. From the side of the chapel, on the far right entrance walked in a tall and lithe woman and a very flamboyant man.

“This place is creepy,” Paris complained. “I hate it here.”

His voice echoed in the dimly lit chapel, illuminated by old red and white candles, and the two other people inside turned to see their siblings, and they found it odd they couldn’t sense them before they came.

“I brought a present,” the woman announced.

She took Paris’s hand, and he moaned something about the ills of organized religion as she dragged him over to Carlos and Gabriel who felt like they should know her, she looked so familiar, but they just couldn’t place it.

The woman appeared to be in her mid-20s, wearing oversized designer Fucci sunglasses, black leggings and flats, and a black crop top shirt. Paris was upset, forced to wear something decent, a simple white shirt and chinos, but refused to wear shoes.

Carlos bared his fangs at the overly friendly woman, an imposter in their midst.

“Why do you smell like Momo?”

“Because I am her,” she replied. “Paris fixed me!”

“Yeah, I made her old, apparently she uh, was tired of looking like she’s eight. ”

“Hey! I was turned when I was fourteen! ”

Carlos and Gabriel learned another thing that made them uncomfortable, the silent consensus was to get up and leave because this was all too much and they only needed one problem at once.

Carlos got up to leave, but Momo gently pushed him back down with her hand on his shoulder and frowned.

“Father, trust me. Haven’t I been here to help you this entire time?”

“Don’t trust her, she can control our minds,” Gabriel said.

“Be quiet, traitor, ” Paris spat. “You’re the one that left. ”

All the siblings shouted and jeered, believing that Gabriel was some sort of deviant, seducing Carlos to leave their inner circle, blaspheme personified.

“Just trust us,” Momo said. “I have an idea. Paris can age things.”

“Yeah, it's stupid,” he sighed. “When I was still alive the government locked me up on the Moon Base. Then I-”

“Paris. Stay on topic, ” Momo groaned.

Gabriel was more concerned about Paris’s tale but apparently, that was not Momo’s main concern.

“Listen. After the first year of being turned, you become less erratic, yes? So Paris can just age you up an entire year and solve our problem,” Momo said with glee. “It might even get rid of the whole, uh, Carlos thing. ”

Carlos put his hand to his chest and then his forehead, bewildered that they had finally made progress. Gabriel’s eyes glowed bright and he snarled, like a wild animal, refusing to let Paris get anywhere next to him.

“Why should I trust a man with no shoes,” Gabriel screamed.

“Why should I trust people who wear shoes, ” Paris scoffed. "What kind of things do you hide in your feet to wear them!"

“Stop talking like I’m crazy! You’re the crazy one here!”

“Enough talk,” Momo huffed. “Father, hold him down.”

Carlos’s demonic red eyes pulsed, and he whispered a quick apology. He grabbed Gabriel by the shoulders, Momo grabbed his legs, and they pinned him down while Paris went to work.

“So, heads up, this is going to feel super gross, okay, ” Paris cautioned. “Don’t scream.”

Gabriel screamed.

Paris seemed to enjoy frightening Gabriel. His warning was true, it would hurt, the sudden aging of his cells at once. He would have to be careful, for every second of touch, he would age by one year.

Gabriel screamed louder under the gaze of Jesus Christ, watching, unable to do anything as another monster changed his body again without his consent. It seemed Jesus wept as well, from the singular prod in Gabriel’s left cheek Paris gave him, the pain starting from the singular point and radiating out, towards every cell in his body.

The pain was so intense, that his brain could not receive the signals to feel anymore, but the terror itself was what kept him screaming, even when Carlos held him close, and Momo apologized, telling him it was for his good, and that it would bring them one step closer to finding a cure.

“I think I did it wrong,” Paris complained. “He looks a little too old.”

“How old am I,” Gabriel rasped.

“You look fine,” Carlos assured him, hugging him tightly. “You don’t look any older than me.”

“Oh no. I’m ancient.”

Carlos took great offense to this and wanted to scream along as well. He grabbed Gabriel by the cheeks and inspected his face once more. Stubble had grown, his face was more angular, sandy-brown hair much darker.

“This isn’t so bad,” Carlos mumbled. “An improvement, really.”

“Mfmf.”

“Sorry.”

Carlos let go of Gabriel, who was calming down, and glared at Momo, spreading ice across the chapel floor, causing her to back away, and then break into a sprint with Paris, leaving the chapel, and running down the old stone halls.

“I never want to see her again.”

“She… she was just trying to help…,” Carlos replied.

“What if it doesn’t,” Gabriel shouted. “What if I wake up tomorrow worse?!”

“Don’t worry about the things you can’t control, do about the things you can, and ask God to know the difference, Gabriel.”

Gabriel sulked, and he now looked quite ridiculous, his clothes too tight, a larger and older man sitting on the floor surrounded by rings of ice. Precariously, Carlos stood up, took his hand, helped him to his feet, and he told them it would work out.

“It always has.”