Film Fuckery (July 2024)

It was the middle of a hot summer when my friend and I decided to check out the St. Catherine of Siena church. We waited until The Danforth was relatively quiet, and we unlatched the fence and slid in. Cautious about squatters, we moved slowly at first. After a couple of minutes of being in there, we heard some sounds coming from where we entered. Shit. The odds were that it was some sort of worker onsite that we had missed, and had seen us enter. Either way, we weren’t going to run around the church knowing there’s somebody right where we entered. We went up the stairs where we were promptly met with a fourty-ish year old man holding a beer can, with drool running down his shirt. Gross.

After a quick conversation, he seemed (mostly) harmless. He also definitely wasn’t all there either. He tried to invite himself to explore with us, where I had to politely decline his tempting offer. He didn’t seem hurt however— he started going on about how when he previously went into the church, he could hear his indigenous ancestors talking to him, and telling him to get out. Eventually he wandered off, and we were finally able to properly enter the church. It was all normal until we reached the altar room, where I heard something once more. It sounded like faint voices, whispering to me. Exactly as he described. I couldn’t make out what they said, but it felt like there was urgency in the tone. Must have been the wind.