CHAPTER 1

MANY MOONS BEFORE…..

The resounding gong of the bells from the convent’s tower brings me out of my dreams. My eyes flutter open and I frown. What was the dream about again? There was a lot of running and a lot of red but for the life of me, I simply cannot remember. That is strange. I've never had dreams like that before.

The bells ring again and I shoot up from my bed. My gaze trails to the tiny window across my bed and a tiny smile replaces my frown.

It’s my eighteenth birthday today.

I quickly get up and peel off my cotton nightgown, humming a happy birthday song as I carefully fold the nightgown and place it on a tiny wooden stool next to my bed. These are the only pieces of furniture in my room.  

The morning air is freezing cold and soon I am warm and fully clothed in my habit; a loose brown ankle-length dress with a white cord tied around my waist. I tuck my red mane under a bonnet and cover my head with a waist-length veil. Finally, I take the beaded necklace from the head of my bed and hang it around my neck. There, I am done.

And as the birds outside start to chirp, I go down on my knees and clasp my hands under my chin. “Heavenly Father, thank you for the gift of today…”

A rumbling from my stomach stops me in my prayer and my eyes fly open. Strange, why am I suddenly so hungry?

I quickly bow my head to pray for forgiveness. I am a nun in practice and nuns should not be distracted by mortal hunger. Forgive me for I have sinned.

*****

“Good morning Sister Abbie!” I run to my mentor only to stop halfway and lower my head. Looks of disapproval fly my way and I smile awkwardly at the senior nuns in the communal dining hall. Here in the convent, we are to conduct ourselves with discipline and not to run like wolves in the wild.

I slow down my steps and move as gracefully as I can towards my mentor. My stomach growls again and I clutch it tightly hoping no one heard the growling and rumbling. Sister Abbie smiles at me when I reach her table.

“Happy birthday Alisa.” She stretches out her ageing frail arms, wrapping them around me and I hug her back. Sister Abbie is the mother I never had, I never knew who my parents were, Sister Abbie found me walking in a daze outside the gates of the convent as a child and took me in. I probably would have died out in the cold had it not been for her.

“Thank you, Sister Abbie.” I greet her back with a chaste kiss and for a split second, I freeze. That was odd. The touch of Sister Abbie’s lips on mine had somehow quelled the gnawing hunger within me.

My mentor’s face suddenly pales to a ghostly white and she sways in her spot. I instinctively grab her hand to steady her and around us, a few other nuns rush over to help.

“Sister Abbie?” My heart hammers in my chest. What is happening?

Sister Abbie’s eyes roll to the back of her eyesockets and she slumps to the ground. Good Lord!

“Sister Abbie!!”

What happens next comes as a blur, someone pushes past me to check on Sister Abbie’s pulse before barking an order to send her to the infirmary. And soon, I am left standing in a daze in the middle of the communal hall.

“Alisa? What happened?”

A few of the nuns who remained behind comes up to me. I shake my head, unsure. Sister Abbie had always been a very healthy person with even more stamina than I. But one thing for certain, after the kiss, I felt…strong, powerful, as if I could lift even the heaviest timber table in the hall.

“I….I’m not sure,” I whisper, staring in the direction where my mentor had been carried off to.

“Say, what happened to your eyes?” One of the nuns asks, turning me around to get a better look.

“You look….heavens! Your eyes!” the nun shrieks, her shrill voice fills the hall and she immediately drops her hands to her sides as if the mere touch of my shoulder burned her.

She is scaring me. “What?” I ask and reach out to her only to have my hand slapped away.

She backs away, hissing, “Don’t touch me.”

Another one screams, “HER EYES! THE DEVIL HAS COME! CALL FOR FATHER BRINGHAM!”

One by one they run away, leaving me to stand truly alone in the communal hall, confused and terrified. What is wrong with my eyes? I need to know. Frantically, I look around the now empty hall and spot a stained glass window.

I run over, straining to see my reflection. Sunlight streams into the hall, shining on my face and …. oh my Lord.

My eyes are glowing, they are glowing purple!

Terror latches onto me like a parasite and I start to shake uncontrollably. What happened to me? My hands grip onto my rosary and with trembling fingers, I hold the beads and start to pray in earnest, to seek an understanding of all the madness that had just transpired.

As I lower my head in a frantic prayer, I hear someone come up to me from behind but before I can lift my head, something hard strikes me from behind. Pain explodes in my head and things start to go hazy.

Someone hit me. My hand reaches out to grab something for support, anything, but I feel nothing. Then everything turns black.

*****

There is pain. At first, it is everywhere, heavy, dull and unbearable and I have to struggle to regain consciousness. But when I finally manage to open my eyes, I am greeted by the face of Father Bringham. I see neither warmth nor kindness in his eyes.

“Strip.”

I blink, confused. A chilly draft seeps through my habit and I sit up from the cold hard floor only to realize that we are in the convent’s basement with my hands tied behind my back.

We are alone too with only two wooden torches to illuminate the otherwise cold dark room. I frown. “I’m sorry Father Bringham, but I don’t understand. What happened? I was in the hall and –“

“Insolent child. You dare talk back to me?” The man’s dark brown eyes bore into mine. He is scaring me. Father Bringham had always given me the creeps and though I have never really taken a liking to him, Sister Abbie had been taught me to respect and revere him as a senior figure in their convent.

But to ask me to strip…that is just wrong. I swallow thickly and shake my head. I simply cannot obey him.

“I said strip!” he shouts at me in the ear and my lips quiver.

Slowly, Father Brisngham circles me like a hawk closing in on his prey, casting moving shadows all around us. My breathing becomes shallow. Why am I here? Is it because of my eyes?

As he circles me, Father Brisngham pulls out a whip from his pocket. Oh no. My legs are shaking and I find myself trying to shuffle away from him.

The whip lashes out at me and a strip of leather tears through the back of my blouse, tearing it into two.

“Arghhhh!”

The pain…The sting of the whip sends me crashing face down onto the cold hard floor and searing pain spreads like wildfire throughout my back. Another lash comes down, this time cutting into my flesh. I can feel my skin splitting. I scream and curl up into a ball.

This was supposed to be my eighteenth birthday! It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life!

“Please, Father Bingham…p..please…don’t,” I beg and stutter. Blood trickles down my back and beads of sweat form on my forehead as my vision becomes slightly blurry.

“I will have to cleanse you of the demon within you,” Father Bringham tells me as he crouches beside me. Instinctively I look away and this only serves to enrage him more.

“Look at me,” he hisses through gritted teeth, grabbing me roughly by the chin and forcing my head to turn towards his. I wince, feeling a tear roll down my cheek.

“Please….” I plead. What did I do to deserve this?

Father Bringham cocks his head and presses a finger to my lips, stroking it with the tip of his calloused thumb. A shiver that has nothing to do with the cold runs up my spine.

“Shhh…shhh…don’t move Alisa. Be a good girl.” His voice is laced with poison.

He smiles at me lecherously. “Yes, I will have to cleanse you.”

My whole body is trembling furiously now.

“You are very beautiful Alisa, too beautiful for your own good,” he continues and trails a finger down my neck. No, no, no. Then with a yank, he rips open my blouse.

“Noooo!” I scream only to earn a backhand from Father Bringham. He hits me so hard my head connects back onto the floor with a loud thud. Blood oozes from my lips.

“When I am done with you, you will thank me, child.” He stands atop of me and disrobes himself and I shut my eyes tightly, trying to ward off the tears that are threatening to spill.

I shake my head weakly in protest. What is he doing? This is wrong! This is all so wrong! He lowers himself, pinning me to the ground.

“Please stop…PLEASE STOP!”

He grabs my face and crushes me with his lips. His sandpaper tongue thrusts into mine, violating every corner of my mouth as his hands….his filthy hands start to grope my body.