Cross and Conflicts

CHAPTER VIII: Subterranean Secret

Noumenon wasn’t certain herself why she had to sneak in the middle of the night to the parish’s backyard. At the back of her mind, there was something telling her that it would be a bad idea if this act of hers reached the knowledge of Monsignor Cabrera and the sacristans. She didn’t want to let them recognize her suspicion about them.

Her dream, nights ago, wasn’t what encouraged her to do this; it was that one compelling conversation with Elmer two days prior.

“Younger sister?” She felt a chill on her nape, and her goose bumps reinforced her stupefaction. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’ll tell you everything once you unravel the secret of the monsignor,” he monotonously replied.

“Elmer, What’s going on here?”

It startled to drizzle. He leaned towards her and whispered to her ear, “The parish’s backyard—you have to see it for yourself.”

There couldn’t be a more perfect chance. It had to be when the monsignor and his minions had to go somewhere “confidential”—as Carlito termed it—and won’t be back till morning. The parish was tenebrous without the moon since there was a temporary power outage in the entirety of Laurel.

She doffed her headdress and tied her neck-length hair—the latter is a habit she does when she ventures into something she’s nervous about. With a lamp on one hand, she carefully walked a flattened trail. The Carabao grass had long died in this narrow path, and she couldn’t only feel its coarseness; she also felt the spine-chilling uncertainty ahead.

Her mind wasn’t much of an aid to her at this point, for she couldn’t help but imagine frightening things. While occasionally holding on to the rosary around her neck, she did her best to disregard her surroundings and convinced herself that she’s alone and that the intense stare she felt was purely a product of her fright.

And then, there she was—the exact spot where she saw Sister Mary Peter in her dream.

She actually hoped—no, prayed—that she wouldn’t find what she wanted to. It felt ironic but if she’d fail, it would betray her suspicion, and she preferred this. She didn’t want to disappoint herself; she didn’t want her established perception of the people here to be shattered.

“They’re good people.” She mentally stated.

At that moment, for her, being swayed by the sexton’s words made her look silly. What was she even doing? She thought of retracting her suspicion and going back to pray the rosary, and then retire for the night. However, there it was—the handle. It looked the same as the one in her dream. She dove her hand deeper to the grass concealing it, and there, her palm came in contact with something woody. She brought the lamp closer to it. She noticed its frame—it was a trapdoor, big enough for a six-foot person to fit in.

Her heart was suddenly beating wild. She was reluctant to open the door. She put down the lamp and with both her hands, she firmly gripped the handle. She placed more strength to her grip since the trapdoor was heavy for her. She held her breath as she pulled it open. She then collected her lamp and below her came into view a set of fractured concrete stairs.

Her eyes widened. She gulped, and although hesitant, she warily descended the stairs. She felt that she had to know where these lead to.

It wasn’t difficult for Elmer to hide himself in the dark. He observed how the trapdoor came in contact with the ground and how Noumenon slowly sunk deep and disappeared from his sight. He succeeded in stealing the key for it from Monsignor Cabrera’s bedchamber, and now, succeeding in gaining another eyewitness to his horrendous secret was also inevitable.

He believed that there was a reason why Nina, his younger sister, entered the novice’s dream. She may have wanted to tell him that he shouldn’t delay his plan to avenge her anymore.

Noumenon couldn’t be mistaken. She was walking through a passageway over forty feet below the ground. After what seemed like an endless trail, she was then in front of an agape stone door. The floor screeched as she slowly pushed it open and just as she thought, she was inside a crypt.

Crypts are essentially underground cemeteries that are gradually embellished over the years. There is one back at their monastery, and it is a vault primarily for the burial of bishops and other notable members of the church underneath the chancel. Other crypts also contain religious relics, but this one, as far as the dim light of the wall torches reach, only stores coffins.

Initially, to Noumenon, nothing was surprising about this tomb. The stone chamber is supported by arch pillars and features a ceiling ten feet high. Three unadorned coffins rest along the far wall; one of which has had its lid removed. Five more were in the center. Each of these was placed on a dais. Nothing seemed surprising. Not until her ears caught the faint pounding inside one of these.

Spooked, she decided to turn back and leave the place that instant, believing that a force of evil sent this to drain her courage. Just as she was on her way out, she also thought of the probability—though she considered the slightest—that what if this was what Elmer referred to.

Gripping her rosary and with a quivering frame, she muttered the Lord’s Prayer and went close to where the pounding originated. It wasn’t from the first on the left, not the one next to it as she bravely scanned, but it was that one, second to the rightmost. On its side, she placed the lamp down and exhaled apprehensively. She carefully put her hands on the lid. The rectangular coffin, like the others with it, is plain and made of Mahogany. It’s an old type whose weighty cover has a huge cross in the middle and without a transparent opening unlike its modern counterparts.

Cautiously but slowly, she pushed the lid with all her might. It dropped to the floor with a loud thud, and finally, inside the coffin was its content she’ll never forget. She almost tumbled from the horror she discovered. No, it wasn’t a corpse, but could be close to being one.

“Nnnnnnnnnnn” The poor girl moaned—her voice muffled by the dirty cloth clogging her mouth. Her hands were tied; her feet were the same. And she was naked except for the bloodied underwear she wore.

The novice wanted to cry as she carefully removed the cloth from her mouth, not because she was terrified of what she saw, but because she thought of the torment she suffered. She hasn’t even reached adolescence, but she had to be forcefully confined inside a cold and cramped space. She may have desperately sought for air that she pounded on the coffin’s lid until her small hands bled.

Gradually freeing her hands and feet, Noumenon collected the weakened child into her arms and hugged her.

“I’m so sorry.” On the verge of tears, she softly repeated this. “I should have realized sooner that you needed help. I’m here now. I will get you out of here.”

The girl, however, did not utter anything at first, and Noumenon noticed that she wasn’t even crying. She felt lifeless even when she was breathing.

“Pl-Please,” the girl abruptly spoke.

Noumenon tore away from her yet held her shoulders. “Don’t worry. Ate will get you out of here.”

Upon closer look, nevertheless, she noticed that the girl’s eyes drooped, weighed down with dark circles. These were delirious with a minty green glow. And she was drooling. Using the hem of her shirt, she wiped it clean.

“Please t-take me.” She shivered. “Please take m-me t-to my master. I need him to g-give me pl-pleasure.”

“What do you mean?” She thought that she might have heard it wrong.

“The monsignor, my m-master—I need his big p-p***s here inside.”

Noumenon’s eyes widened as she angrily grabbed the child’s hand when it reached her underwear. “Who taught you this?!”

“Pl-Please, Ate, take me to-to him. I-I’ve been waiting since this morning.”

She clamped a hand on the girl’s mouth. “Quiet, child! I’m getting you out of here!”

“Congratulations, you finally discovered this.” Someone then said by the stone door. She didn’t notice his arrival, but she recognized who it was.

Infuriated, she looked at him. “Elmer! What is the meaning of all of this?! What have you been teaching this child?! What have you done to her?”

Then annoyed, Elmer went closer to her. “Don’t put the blame on me, Sister, because you don’t know anything.”

“Then who am I supposed to be mad at for this child’s abuse?”

“Who do you think, Sister?”

Her face was grim. “Heavens! Do the sacristans know—?”

His silence confirmed it to her, and she wanted to throw a fit. It sounded so outrageous that she couldn’t accept it.

Elmer glanced at the girl as she scooped her out of the coffin. “It looks like Aling Mona’s daughter is the only one left alive.”

Noumenon could then only watch as the sexton uncovered the other coffins at the center of the vault.

“Look here, Sister. These are just some of the little girls their families have ‘paid’ the monsignor in exchange for a sack of rice and a dozen of canned sardines. Doesn’t that make him ‘holy’?”

She couldn’t believe all of it. She couldn’t believe that Monsignor Cabrera—the one so praised by others for his selfless and good deeds—is a pedophile. And she couldn’t take in how there were four dead girls before them.

“You see n—” Elmer did not expect that the novice would interrupt him with a rigid slap on his face.

“You’ve known about this for so long, but you didn’t do anything? Why didn’t you inform the authorities? Just what kind of a coward—?!”

“Yes, I’m a coward! But you don’t know what I’ve been through. The sacristans threatened me and my mother, and I can’t fight back.” His head was down. “I’m a coward who couldn’t even save my own sister. Three months after she was reported missing, I found her inside one of the coffins here. She died just like these girls.

“My ill mother, Nina and I are devoted to our faith. We were active in all of the activities of the parish, and we helped out a lot. We thought that that was why the monsignor favored us, but he had something in mind, and we were ignorant to that. To this very day, I always pray that hell would engulf him, but he really is a favorite of the devil.”

She was dumbfounded; she couldn’t find the right words to say, and she regretted hurting him. “Elmer, how were you able to find this place?”

He eventually looked at her. “My sister led me here, just like you. She made me dream of coming here.”

She suddenly felt a small hand on her foot. The girl had crawled to her with pleading eyes. “Ate, Ate, please—the m-monsignor, I need him.”

She made her stand, and she wrapped a protective arm around her.

“What kind of drug was she made to swallow to make her think like this?” She irately asked.

“It’s not because of a drug.”

“Then, why is she like this?”

“I came to this parish to figure out why people seem to be drawn to the monsignor. Believe me, Sister; he has a demonic ability. He makes people like him. It’s like an irresistible charm, and it is extremely potent on young girls who have not reached their teens.”

The child was tugging on her skirt and weakly imploring. “P-please, please, please, take me to him, Ate. He can make me happy.”

She lifted her up and embraced her. “I’ll take you somewhere else.” Then, to Elmer, she asked, “How can we cure her?”

He looked away as if uncertain of how to respond. “Sister Mary Peter also asked the same.”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

He chose not to respond.

“Answer me, Elmer. What do you mean by that? Wait—” She suddenly remembered her senior’s appearance in her dream. “What happened to her?!”

He now wore a sullen look on his face. “Sister Mary Peter told me that she was sent her to investigate, and you as an oblivious companion were chosen to accompany her in order to cover up her mission. She was amazing. In a span of a week, she noticed the oddities inside the parish, and she convinced me to tell her everything she needed to know about this place especially about this crypt. But there was one problem: we didn’t have the key to access here. So both of us decided to steal it from the monsignor’s bedchamber; on the contrary, we failed a lot of times. Four days ago, that was the last I’ve seen her.”

“We have to get out of here!” With the child now asleep on her shoulder, she grabbed the lamp then headed for the door, for it didn’t take a genius for the both of them to realize that Monsignor Cabrera and his sacristans had something to do about the nun’s disappearance.

Alack, however, someone was blocking their way: someone pale and with a sharp knife pointed at them.

“Carlito, you f*****g psycho” Elmer lividly pronounced.

The sacristan grinned. “My lovely b***h—did you really think I wouldn’t notice that the key to this crypt was missing from the monsignor’s drawer earlier? And as for you, Sister, it’s such a waste that you have to die.”

Without looking behind, the sexton instructed Noumenon. “Sister, straight in that direction, there’s a corridor that will lead you out to the church. Hurry! Go!”

She held the child more firmly and did as she was told, leaving a scared teenager to deal with a madman. She didn’t want to leave him alone but getting away and hopefully informing the police will salvage them.

It became a game of tag between Elmer and Carlito. The latter had his tongue out like a dog pursuing a delicious treat.

“Stay away from me, you f*****g maniac! Homo bastard!” Horrified, the sexton yelled at him while taking defense in the coffins.

The sacristan snickered. “Oh, no, my dear Elmer. I have to punish you tonight, and it will be the sweetest.”

Carlito finally threw the knife at him. He dodged and immediately picked it up, and aimed it at him in retaliation. “Don’t come near me, you smelly prick! I will never hesitate to kill you!”

The sacristan smirked. “I heard what you were talking about with that nun earlier. Why did you tell her that your sister led you here in a dream? Why didn’t you tell her that you let me f**k you senseless so that I’ll get you here and retrieve your sister’s corpse?”

“Shut the f**k up!”

“Oh, you didn’t want her to know. You have a crush on her after all.”

“I told you to shut the f**k up!” He furiously lunged at him.

Carlito, nevertheless, quickly possessed his hand and elbowed his gut. The sexton gasped in pain and while disoriented, the older male pinned him to the wall, clamping with one hand both of his wrists while the other took off his pants.

“We did it so much last night, but I just can’t get enough of you, my lovely b***h,” he huskily whispered to his ear before he penetrated his already erect shaft to his anus.

The corridor felt like forever to pass through and as they went farther away from the crypt, it got darker, and she felt more anxious. She prayed for nothing but for Elmer’s safety and their escape. She wasn’t prepared for anything like this. It seemed surreal, and that’s why it was scary. It was as if she was inside a nightmare which she’ll never wake up from. This had been the same feeling to her fourteen years ago when her father was chasing after her. She clenched her teeth and glanced at the light cargo on her shoulder. She really had to save this child.

Not far ahead was a set of stairs somehow illuminated from above. They were already at the exit point leading to the church. Out of nowhere, however, a hand emerged and roughly yanked her hair causing her to fall down on her back and drop both the lamp and the girl who was awakened.

“Unfortunately for you, Sister, we can’t let you escape.” Pablo who was in front of her said.

Another person rudely pulled her hair to make her stand up causing her to grit her teeth in pain. She had never imagined that someone as docile as Marlon would be able to hurt her.

The little girl slowly walked but looked giddy when she approached Pablo, even raising her arms as if a gesture asking him to lift her up. “Kuy-ya, take me to my master. Ple-Please.”

“He doesn’t like you anymore,” he coldly stated.

Noumenon, although not vivid, saw him smile down at her. It was before he twisted the child’s neck.

The novice was stunned. The little girl was dead.

Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. And she lost count of how many more times the Monsignor savagely stomped on her. His foot came hard every time—heavy and painful, increasing in intensity and heightening his madness.

The pews sat silent and the sacristans merely looked at her—curled, defenseless, and repetitively beaten by their benefactor—after all, they have given a share of her torment. Her lip burst from one brutal slap, and her right eye is swollen because of a fist.

“Aachkk!” Noumenon spat blood and vomited more than the little that she had eaten on the coarse concrete floor of the church.

“f*****g nuns!” Monsignor Cabrera cursed, unmindful of the image of the Holy Virgin Mary, of St. Peter and of the eight-foot wooden Holy Cross in the altar behind him.

“You thought...!” He stomped on her chest.

“You can...!” He incapacitated her defending arms.

“Remove me…!” Finally, he kicked her gut. “Here?!”

Furious was an understatement; he was beyond mad. No one understood how he truly felt but himself. It infuriated him that everything that he has invested for so far will be for naught because of two nuns who were actually sent to investigate him under the guise of a field observation, but Noumenon knew nothing about the real goal of their coming here. The monastery had not even hinted that to her.

“Stop, please... Have mercy,” came the soft plea of the battered novice. She’s close to losing consciousness, could barely move and couldn’t be more concentrated on the stinging pain all over her face and body coerced by the excruciating blows that she mercilessly received.

So slowly and eerily creaking, the double door was opened. The wind wasn’t that strong. The light rain kept its fine droplets from intervening. Neither could have been responsible, and this made the monsignor and his lackeys perturbed. They squinted their eyes over to the entrance, yet they saw nothing but blankness.

She knew nothing of this development at first. She was, initially, unknowing of the advent of a man’s figure before them. Dressed in a garment patterned in the eventide, he emerged from the shadows.