Chapter Four
872 Words
Three werewolves writhed against silver chains beneath the shroud of night.
One female. Two males. All bound to stakes driven deep into the earth behind the cloister walls. The moon was hidden behind thick clouds, as if the heavens themselves refused to witness what was about to unfold.
The ceremony had begun at seven. It was now past ten.
The Abbess stood at the center of the circle, her voice a steady chant that echoed through the courtyard like a dirge. The sisters surrounded her, each clutching a ceremonial dagger, its blade laced with silver poison. Their faces were veiled, their eyes cold.
Marilyn, as always, was absent.
“She is praying,” the Abbess had said, her tone brooking no questions. “For the success of our rite.”
Everyone knew the truth. Marilyn never attended the executions. But no one dared question her. Not even the Abbess.
“Sister Yessica,” the Abbess called.
Yessica stepped forward, her heart pounding. She was still new to this. Still learning to mask her horror.
“Fetch the ashes.”
She bowed and turned, her boots echoing against the stone as she hurried into the Coventry. When she returned, her face was pale.
“Abbess,” she whispered, “this is the last of it.”
A hush fell over the sisters. The final vial of sacred ash. Without it, the rites would cease. And without the rites, the werewolves would live.
The Abbess took the vial without a word and resumed her chant.
One by one, the sisters stepped forward, plunging their daggers into the hearts of the bound werewolves. The silver poison worked fast. The beasts convulsed, snarled, then fell still.
“We cleanse this cloister of every iniquity that may lie in wait,” the Abbess intoned. “And with their blood, we plead for a new beginning.”
The sisters echoed her words, their voices rising in unison as blood soaked the earth.
As the ceremony ended, Yessica turned to slip away, her stomach churning. But the Abbess’s voice stopped her cold.
“First light. You’ll go with Sisters Alyssa and Victoria to retrieve more ashes.”
Yessica froze. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Yes, Abbess,” she managed, before hurrying off, her legs trembling beneath her.
She had trained for years to join the cloister, never knowing its true purpose. Only two months into her initiation, and already she regretted everything. The truth had come like a blade in the dark—swift, cold, and irreversible.
They were not just nuns.
They were executioners.
And now, she was to join the most dreaded mission of all: the Ash Retrieval.
She had heard the stories. The journey to the monastic city. The search for the hidden friars. The ritual of the oblate—one who willingly gave his life, immolating himself so his ashes could be used in the sacred rites.
Not all sisters returned.
There was only one rule: return with the ashes. Or don’t return at all.
Yessica clenched her fists. She would not die for this. Not without answers.
She turned on her heel and marched to Marilyn’s chamber.
The door was unlocked. Of course it was.
She stepped inside, closing it behind her.
Marilyn stood by the window, her silver eyes reflecting the starless sky. There was no moon tonight. Only darkness.
“What do I owe this visit, Sister Yessica?” Marilyn asked without turning.
“I know I wasn’t dreaming,” Yessica said.
Marilyn turned, assessing her with a faint smile. “Oh?”
“I made a vow to you,” Yessica whispered. “My life is yours.”
Marilyn raised an eyebrow.
“You’ve heard, haven’t you? I’m to leave at dawn. To retrieve the ashes.”
“I have,” Marilyn said coolly. “And I fail to see how that concerns me.”
Yessica stepped forward. “I need you to speak to the Abbess. This is a suicide mission.”
Marilyn folded her arms. “That’s what you believe. But what do I gain by intervening?”
“You promised,” Yessica said, her voice trembling. “You said my life was yours. Don’t let it end like this.”
Marilyn’s lips curled into a faint smile. “What makes you so sure you’ll die?”
“I’ve heard the stories.”
“Good,” Marilyn said. “Then you know what’s at stake. I want you to go.”
Yessica blinked. “You… want me to go?”
“This is your turning point,” Marilyn said. “The moment you decide who you truly are.”
Yessica’s voice cracked. “You won’t help me.”
Marilyn tilted her head. “Why did you want to join the cloister, Yessica?”
Yessica hesitated. “To serve. To find purpose.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “Not anymore.”
Marilyn stepped closer, her voice low. “Then go. Find your answer. But remember ashes are not the only thing worth bringing back.”
Yessica stared at her, searching for meaning in those silver eyes.
But Marilyn had already turned back to the window, her silhouette swallowed by the dark.
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