He was but a simple priest, following the lord's teachings despite the world being wrecked with poverty and the plague; when life failed him, his faith did not. He had always supposed himself to be a man of God, and had dedicated himself to the chur...
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_ 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟹 ; 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 _
𝐃𝐈𝐌 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 candle were the only accompaniment to Amanda's thoughts, as she laid in bed tirelessly, eyes staring up at the ceiling blankly. Her perfectly manicured hand gripped the blanket so tightly she believed she might injure herself.
For the nth time that night, Amanda's head turned to her side, glancing at the bed placed on the opposite side of the room. It was far past curfew, and yet the person meant to be laying there was gone.
"Mielle..." She quietly muttered.
She couldn't shake off the sense of unease that festered deep in her chest. The silence, that was typically calming, only made it worse. Where could the nun have wandered off to at this hour?
Her eyes wandered, watching how the flickering flame of the candle cast eerie shadows onto the walls, dancing and swaying. It was as if a monster quietly lurked within those dark shadows, waiting for her to close her eyes before it struck.
"Mielle," she whispered again, her voice barely audible. There was no response but her own breathing and the loud thumping of her heart in her chest.
Releasing her tight grip on the blanket, she sat up, knowing that sleep would be impossible at this rate.
She wandered over to Mielle's wooden desk, eyes hardening at the cotton sheet of paper that was covered in inky scribbles. A, B, C, D... it read. Mielle was illiterate, but had been spending nearly every hour of her free time trying to learn how to read and write.
That child was still young. Amanda could recall how hard Mielle had cried after Mielle explained the story of how her sister died; after that Mielle stuck to her like glue. Now that she thought of it, the anniversary of Mielle's sister's death was coming up soon.
Perhaps that was why she was out and about so late? Or she might've gotten lost in the long, winding corridors of the church.
Scoffing, she grabbed the metal candle holder, orange light glinting on her face as she turned towards the door. It couldn't be helped; she'd have to go look for Mielle herself and bring her back before she got into trouble.
She opened the rickety wooden door to her room, cringing at the sound of ungreased door hinges, before slowly closing it behind her. The cold air nipped at her arms, as if scolding her for coming out of her room in her nightgown.
Hugging her free arm to her chest, she stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The candle's flame flickered and fluttered in the cold breeze, as if threatening to abandon her all alone in the darkness. She took a deep breath, before slowly exhaling all of the air in her diaphragm. This old church was nothing like the splendorous estate she had lived in before; she wouldn't have been surprised if a ghost had appeared.
She turned to her left, and began to head down the narrow hallway. The wooden floorboards creaked and moaned beneath her bare feet, and she grimaced, hoping no one would notice her midnight escapade.
It was as if the light was trying to hide from the church's halls, darkness clinging to cobwebbed corners and dusty floors.
Her feet quietly thumped against the floor, her entire body shivering. Once she found Mielle, she was seriously going to scold her for this. What a shameful state of affairs for an ex-noblewoman like herself...
"Mielle?" She softly called out, not wanting to alert anyone else. "Mielle, where are you?"
There was no response, only the echo of her voice speaking back to her. She had finally made her way to the main hall, where a tall statue of a woman was placed in the center. She wore robes made of stone, her hands clutched at her chest in prayer. It was some saint, not that Amanda studied enough to know of her name.
Those stone eyes seemed to almost follow her every movement, as if daring her to continue. Every bone in her body was begging her to do so, to give up and wait till it was morning. But Amanda was no coward. Unfortunately so.
A large gust of wind hit her, causing her white nightgown to whip against her legs, the flame of her candle whimpering out pathetically. She frowned, glancing up at the statue before continuing to walk.
She had grown accustomed to the dim moonlight as she walked, but soon her eyes widened. The door to the courtyard was wide open.
Hesitantly, she stepped outside, biting down on her lip and furrowing her brow. It was almost winter, and the cold temperature was evidence enough of that fact.
There were tracks of feet in the grass. Mielle must've came through this way, but what business did she have outside at this time of night?
Like a hunter, Amanda followed the foot prints left behind in the grass, finally arriving at the main chapel. The door was already open, only cracked slightly, so she grabbed the handle and opened it gently.
She peered inside, catching the familiar sight of Mielle's strawberry blonde hair. She was sat at one of the pews, arms hugging her sides.
"Mielle...?" Amanda called out to her. "Mielle, it's late. Let's go back to our room..."
Mielle didn't respond, but Amanda could hear her muffled cries as she stepped closer. Her hands covered her face, wiping away her tears as quickly as they came.
"Mielle, is this about your sister?" Amanda asked. "Why'd you come all the way--"
Amanda's grip on the candle holder slackened, and it clattered to the ground loudly. Mielle's cheeks were streaked with tears, and blood dripped from her lips and down to her chin, her shoulders trembling like an injured animal.
"Mielle?! Mielle..." Amanda quickly rushed to the nun's side. "Tell me what happened, Mielle. Why are you bleeding?"
The nun opened her mouth, silently mouthing words, gurgling. Even in the dim light, Amanda could see what was wrong.
Her tongue was missing.
In its place, a gaping, bloodied hole that oozed a sickly yellow fluid was. The edges of the wound, from where the tongue had been removed were jagged and torn, as if someone had ripped it out with brute force.
Amanda recoiled in horror, covering her mouth in an attempt to suppress the bile rising from her stomach. The putrid smell emanating from the wound suddenly filled her nostrils, as Mielle coughed blood up.
Leaning over, Amanda emptied her dinner onto the floor, her hands shaking wildly as she clutched at her stomach.
"Mie-Mie-Mielle!" Amanda stuttered out. She stood back up, grabbing the injured girl's shoulders. "Who did this to you?!"
It was a useless question, one that Mielle would never be able to respond to. Unable to read, or write, or even speak, she had no way of revealing the perpetrator.
Instead, the girl wailed, the sound horrifying due to the loss of her tongue. Amanda couldn't help but cry as well, seeing the young girl in such a horrific state.
But first, she had to get help. Whoever did this... she would make them pay the price.
