CHAPTER 6
566 Words
The chapel was not empty.
Rebecca knew that the moment she stepped inside.
The door closed behind her with a dull, echoing thud. She stopped walking.
“Mercy?” she whispered.
Silence answered her at first—thick, heavy silence that pressed against her ears. Then the candles on the altar flickered, one by one, without flame being touched.
Rebecca swallowed.
“I’m here,” she said softly. “You wanted me here, didn’t you?”
A pause.
Then a voice—not in the air, but inside her.
“You came willingly.”
Rebecca’s breath caught. “I didn’t know if I should.”
“But you did.”
Rebecca stepped forward slowly, every footstep echoing far louder than it should have.
“What do you want from me?” she asked. “You haven’t told me everything.”
The candles flared brighter.
“Because truth must be carried carefully.”
Rebecca shook her head. “You’re inside me. You’re already carrying it through me.”
Another pause. This one heavier. Sadder.
“I do not wish to harm you.”
Rebecca laughed nervously. “That’s reassuring… I think.”
The air grew colder.
“I was harmed here.”
Rebecca stiffened. “I know.”
“No,” Mercy corrected. “You know only what the walls whisper. You do not know what I felt.”
Rebecca lowered herself into the front pew.
“Then tell me.”
The candles dimmed slightly, as if the room itself was listening.
“I trusted him,” Mercy said.
“I prayed with him. I believed him.”
Rebecca closed her eyes. “And when you tried to speak out?”
“He told me silence was obedience.”
Rebecca’s fingers curled into her skirt. “That’s not faith.”
“No,” Mercy replied. “It was control.”
The chapel creaked softly.
Rebecca opened her eyes. “Why me, Mercy?”
This time the answer came immediately.
“Because you listen.”
Rebecca exhaled slowly. “And what happens when I stop listening?”
The temperature dropped sharply.
“Then I will fade.”
Rebecca’s voice softened. “You’re afraid.”
“…Yes.”
Rebecca stood. “Then I won’t stop.”
The candles steadied.
Outside the chapel, footsteps approached.
Rebecca turned sharply. “Someone’s coming.”
“Do not be afraid,” Mercy said. “It is only him.”
Rebecca’s heart pounded. “Reverend Michael?”
“He senses me now.”
The chapel door handle rattled.
Rebecca whispered, “What do I do?”
A long pause.
Then Mercy said, quietly:
“Let him hear me.”
The door opened.
Reverend Michael stepped inside.
“Rebecca?” he called. “Why are you here so late?”
Rebecca turned to face him.
“I was praying,” she said.
His eyes narrowed. “For what?”
Rebecca met his gaze.
“For the dead.”
The candles flared violently.
The Reverend staggered back a step.
“What did you say?” he demanded.
Rebecca didn’t answer.
Because Mercy did.
The whisper slithered through the chapel like a blade:
“You remember me.”
The Reverend’s face drained of color.
“No,” he said hoarsely. “This is not real.”
Rebecca spoke, but her voice carried Mercy’s weight.
“You left her in the dark.”
The chapel doors slammed shut.
- Writer
