Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology - Yolanda Olson Page 0,51
to speak. The seconds tick by on the grandfather clock that stands against one of the walls in her office.
“Do you know what it means to be in the service of the Lord, Celeste? Some women are born to take care of a household, mother children, sell their bodies out on the streets. But us, we were born to serve God, to be in tune with His commandments.” She turns toward me, smiling mirthlessly. “That, Celeste, means stripping yourself of worldly things. Not allowing yourself to be led astray by things most women are polluted by.”
“Yes, Sister,” I murmur, not quite understanding where this is going. There is no way she knows about Father Thomas and I. If she did, she’d make sure I was already out on the streets.
“You are to love God above all else.” She sneers. “Charity is the greatest of all virtues. It unites us to God.” I want to tell her that we are also required to love our neighbour. That's what Father Thomas and I do, grant our fellow men reprieve from their sinful ways. Instead, I keep my shut my mouth instead as she stalks toward me. Her face is as red as a tomato, anger rippling off of her. “You deserve to be punished for what you’re doing to Mr. Michaels. He is trying to repent, cleanse his soul, and you are leading him astray.” She looks almost crazed.
“I can explain-”
She puts a finger on my lips, standing just inches in front of me. “You deserve to be hurt for what you’ve done.”
I say nothing, just tug up my tunic and position myself over her desk before she has to tell me to. She pulls down my underwear, and I close my eyes. I listen as she walks around the desk and opens a drawer, retrieving a wooden ruler. She taps it a few times on my ass then slaps it down hard enough to solicit a howl of agony. Tears sting my eyes, but I try to squeeze them back. She rubs my ass, cooing like one would an infant. The second sting comes out of nowhere, just when my breathing had started to even out. I can't help but cry out again.
“I can’t have you making a noise, Celeste.” She stuffs some sort of cloth into my mouth, forcing me to breathe through my nose which is quickly stuffing up due to my crying. I try to focus my attention on breathing, on anything but this torture. She hits me again, and I know my skin will break if she continues like this. She pushes herself against my ass, rubbing herself on me. Her depraved moans have me nearly gagging, and when she thrusts a finger into me, I growl and buck, trying to push her away from me. This bitch is getting off on me! My reluctance only angers her, though. She pulls away, bringing the ruler down so hard it breaks on my ass. I scream, tears falling down my face. I turn around, and look at her in horror. She lurches for me, gripping me by the throat and pinning me to the table.
“You think you’re too good for this?” I can’t breathe, my airways restricted. The door swings open, and she instantly lets me go, turning. “Father Thomas.” She says sweetly, having switched from a psychotic maniac to someone sweet as sugar in seconds. He glares down at me as I stand, straighten up, and pull the cloth from my mouth.
“Leave.” She growls at me. I do as I’m told, but I know that she’s not done with me. I leave the two of them in the office and make my way to my room. I know she’s going to tell Father Thomas about what she saw. How could I have been so stupid?
Blood is the only kind of atonement God accepts. Father Thomas made me realize that. When he is called upon to intervene, there is no doubt it is because blood is required. I am the vessel he must use to carry out his divine purpose because I am the only one who understands that the greater good can only be achieved through sacrifice.
Christ himself sacrificed his life. Whoever loses their life for Christ will save theirs.
Father Thomas is not as vile as Priest thinks he is. We only kill those who want to be killed, those who desire freedom, those who beg us to end their suffering. Sin is a sickness, and death