MARIA POSA

: Great! Here’s *Part 1 of Chapter 1: “Hidden Truth”* — let’s begin: --- *CHAPTER ONE: HIDDEN TRUTH* *By Chela* Before the darkness, there was beauty. And before the curse, there was love—or something Mary thought was love. Mary was barely nineteen when the world turned upside down. Young, beautiful, and rebellious beneath her nun’s veil, she carried a spirit too wild for the silence of the convent. On a missionary trip to a distant village battling a yellow fever plague, Mary snuck out one night to a forbidden party—music, dancing, and laughter echoing under the moonlight. She had seen him across the fire: tall, haunting, irresistible. His eyes shimmered like molten gold. They danced, and his touch left her skin burning like fire and ice. But after the music stopped, so did the illusion. Before her eyes, the handsome stranger revealed his true form—horned, shadowed, eyes blazing red. A thick smoke smelling of burnt sulfur filled the air. People screamed and scattered, but not Mary. She stayed. He came to her that night in her room. The demon whispered her name like a hymn, and instead of fear, she felt longing. She welcomed him. That night they became one. In the days that followed, he returned to her again and again—cloaked in charm, cloaked in lies. He promised her a kingdom, a life of power and healing. He taught her forbidden herbs, secret names of ancient spirits. With his help, she cured the dying, healed the blind. But fear grew in the village. They didn’t see miracles—they saw a witch. Rumors spread: that Mary seduced men, cursed families, turned against God. By the end of the month, the convent recalled her. Disgraced, shamed, and alone, Mary returned, carrying a secret within her—growing with each heartbeat. --- *(To be continued in Part 2 shortly...)* Let me know if you want any edits before I continue. [’s *Part 2* continuing the flow: --- When Mary returned to the convent, her heart was heavy but her spirit still defiant. She hid the swelling secret beneath her habit, praying it would not be discovered. The other nuns whispered behind her back, their eyes sharp and cold, especially Gabriella’s. Gabriella was young, ambitious, and filled with jealousy. Mary’s beauty and the attention she garnered made Gabriella burn with envy. Sister Lucia, the middle-aged nun who oversaw the convent’s strict rules, noticed a strange scent lingering around Mary—an unmistakable smell of burnt sulfur that chilled her to the bone. Her fears grew with every passing day. Mary’s pregnancy was hidden for eight months, but the time came when her condition could no longer be concealed. Fearing scandal and punishment, Sister Lucia, assisted by Ruth and Gabriella, took Mary under cover of midnight to an underground chamber beneath the convent—a room forgotten by time, lit only by flickering candles and draped with cobwebs. The chamber was damp and cold, with a bed of straw set in the center. As Mary lay down, labor pains seized her. Ruth was sent hastily to fetch clean towels and water, while Gabriella whispered complaints about keeping such a dreadful secret. Lucia shot Gabriella a deadly glare and hissed harsh words, reminding her of the solemnity of their task. --- * Chapter 1: “Hidden truth --- Mary returned to the convent under the cold gaze of Sister Lucia, the stern midwife who ran the oldest nunnery in the world. The moment Mary stepped through the heavy oak doors, she felt the weight of suspicion pressing down like a thousand stones. Her secret—her growing belly—was hidden beneath loose black robes, but it was only a matter of time before the truth slipped out. Gabriella, the teenage assistant midwife with a sharp tongue and sharper eyes, watched Mary with thinly veiled envy. Mary’s youthful beauty, even in shadow and scandal, was a threat to her. Gabriella wanted the attention, the power, and the freedom Mary seemed to hold like a fragile flame. Ruth, another assistant and the only one who showed kindness, was torn between loyalty and fear. She alone whispered words of comfort, promising Mary she wouldn’t be abandoned. After eight long months of hiding, the time came. One stormy midnight, Sister Lucia led Mary deep into the nunnery’s underground chamber—a room lit only by flickering candles and thick with cobwebs. The air smelled damp and ancient, the stone walls whispering secrets of a thousand souls long gone. : Mary lay on a bed of straw, trembling. Ruth was sent to fetch towels and water while Gabriella grumbled about the secrecy. Sister Lucia shot her a death glare, silencing the complaints with harsh words laced with decades of authority. The labor was brutal. Mary’s cries echoed through the chamber, mingling with the storm outside. And then, with a final push, a baby was born. A hideous child, pale as moonlight, hairless, with bright red eyes that glowed in the candlelight. Mary smiled—a bittersweet expression—as she looked at her daughter. “She is beautiful,” she whispered, though her voice trembled. But the truth was undeniable: the child was unlike any other. And then Mary’s breath faltered. She leaned back, a trickle of tears slipping down her cheeks. Her eyes stayed open, fixed on the strange little face before her. Then she was gone. A sudden gust of wind blew through the chamber, snuffing out candles and flipping the cross above Mary’s lifeless body upside down. It smoldered and turned to ash. The whispers filled the room: *Maria Posa... Maria Posa...* --- **Part 3 continuing “Hidden Truth”*: --- Sister Lucia’s face was pale as she knelt beside Mary’s body. The smell of burnt sulfur lingered faintly in the air—an ominous sign she could not ignore. Her eyes darted to the newborn with a mixture of fear and disbelief. Gabriella scowled, her jealousy burning hotter than ever. “Why does the child live? Why wasn’t she stillborn like her mother?” she spat, bitterness seeping from every word. Ruth placed a gentle hand on the baby’s fragile body. “She’s the only family she has now. We must protect her.” Lucia nodded grimly and led the group to a hidden stone passage beneath the chamber. This secret tunnel was known only to a few and led directly into the chapel’s grounds, far from prying eyes. The night air was cold and damp as they wrapped Mary’s body in a dusty, worn cloth. With great care, they carried her through the passage to a small clearing beneath a solitary peach tree in the chapel yard. Rain began to fall, the droplets falling like tears from the heavens. They buried Mary deep beneath the roots, marking the grave only with the barest indentation in the earth. : Ruth was assigned a critical task: to guard the secret of Maria Posa’s existence. She would stay with the child and keep her hidden from the other nuns. As Ruth knocked on the heavy chapel door, a soft glow from within caught her eye. Sister Uriel, a woman in her late forties, opened the door, surprise etched across her face. The infant’s cries filled the silent night as Ruth handed her over, whispering, “She must be safe.” The chapter closes with the chilling wind whispering once more: *Maria Posa...* --- ** Here’s the continuation of *“Hidden Truth” — Part 4*: --- Days turned into weeks, and Maria Posa grew under Ruth’s watchful eyes. Though frail and strange-looking, the child’s bright red eyes held a fierce spirit no one could ignore. Ruth often found herself torn between fear and fierce protectiveness. Gabriella’s jealousy festered into hatred. She whispered rumors among the nuns, questioning the origin of Maria Posa, planting seeds of suspicion that would one day threaten everything Ruth and Lucia had fought to protect. Meanwhile, Lucia struggled with the dark secret she bore. The scent of burnt sulfur haunted her dreams. She sought counsel in ancient texts and whispered prayers, hoping to find a way to shield Maria Posa from the dark destiny hinted by her mother’s curse. One evening, as thunder rolled overhead and shadows danced along the stone walls, Lucia discovered an old manuscript that spoke of a child born of demon and human—a hybrid destined to walk the line between worlds, carrying a power that could either save or destroy. Her heart heavy, Lucia vowed to guard Maria Posa with her life, even if it meant facing the darkness alone. --- --- *Chapter 2 – Witness Exquisition* The dim light of dawn filtered through narrow windows as the nuns quietly prepared in the convent’s bathhouse. Soft whispers floated in the chilly air as they moved about in their simple sleeping gowns, their faces still heavy with sleep and worry. Maria Posa awoke suddenly, her small frame trembling as the memory of her nightmare clung to her. Without hesitation, she slipped from the bed and hurried to find Sister Lucia. Lucia sat near the flickering candlelight, deep in prayer. When Maria appeared at the door, her red eyes wide with fear, Lucia opened her arms and pulled the child close, pressing a gentle kiss to her pale forehead. “Tell me, my child, what troubles you so early?” Lucia asked softly. Maria shivered, voice barely above a whisper. “The voice again… calling me. The smell of burnt sulfur… and the cross… it turned upside down.” Lucia’s eyes darkened for a moment but she smiled reassuringly. “Pray, Maria. Pray for strength. The Lord watches over us.” Outside, the convent stirred. Sister Uriel arrived quietly, carrying a tray with coffee and a folded newspaper. She approached Lucia with measured steps, the tension between them thick in the cool morning air. “Maria’s dreams grow darker,” Uriel said, concern threading her voice. “We still do not know where her mother went. It remains a mystery.” Lucia’s gaze hardened. “Perhaps she ran away to escape this burden. Some truths are better left buried.” Before more could be said, a nun entered with fresh coffee and placed it beside Lucia. The two women exchanged a glance, the weight of unspoken fears lingering between them. Uriel lowered her voice. “We must consider baptizing Maria. If she bears this shadow, the church must cleanse her.” Lucia shook her head, her tone firm. “I cannot agree. It may worsen what lies within her.” The conversation shifted to practical matters—the cost of food, clothing, and care for the child. They knew the convent’s resources were stretched thin. “We should write to the bishop,” Uriel suggested finally. “Ask for assistance.” Lucia nodded slowly, the flicker of resolve returning to her eyes. “Yes. He must be made aware. For Maria’s sake—and for us all.” --- --- The morning mist clung to the convent’s ancient stone as the nuns silently gathered their worn robes and crossed themselves in anxious prayer. Maria, still trembling from her nightmare, nestled in Ruth’s arms, feeling the world around her both familiar and frightening. Outside the chapel doors, a crowd had begun to gather—faces twisted with anger and fear, murmuring curses under their breath. At their center stood Reverend Antonio, a stern man with eyes sharp as flint, his lips curling in a cruel smile as he surveyed the assembly. The nuns, led by Sister Lucia and Sister Uriel, walked in solemn single file towards the town square. Ruth carried Maria protectively, shielding the child from the harsh glares of the villagers. The air was thick with tension, the whispers growing louder. Reverend Antonio raised his hand, silencing the crowd. “We have gathered to witness justice,” he proclaimed. “Two women stand accused of witchcraft—Rose and Poppins. Let them say their last prayers.” : The crowd’s curses turned to roars, stones and dirt thrown with furious hands. Rose and Poppins stood resolute, faces pale but unyielding. Rose stepped forward, her voice steady despite the smoke and ash that filled the air. “I request to swear my innocence,” she said, but Antonio shook his head, denying her plea. Poppins then spoke, eyes burning with defiance. “May the Reverend suffer if he has sinned seven times!” she declared. Antonio laughed harshly and grabbed a Bible from a servant, swearing mockingly on the seventh oath. Suddenly, the sky darkened unnaturally, and a chilling wind swept through the square. A demonic voice echoed, demanding payment for the powers Antonio had used to heal the sick and provide for the poor. Antonio’s face twisted with terror as flames erupted around him, burning him where he stood. The crowd scattered in panic, leaving only the nuns and the smoldering remains. Back at the convent, the nuns whispered anxiously, the horrifying scene etched in their minds. Maria clutched Ruth’s hand, her red eyes wide with fear and something else—an understanding of the darkness creeping ever closer. ---