Kathryn Dahne - Curse of the Nun

“Oh no.”

KK sat there for the briefest moment, half in and half out of the window, as it began to dawn on him just how much trouble he was really in. The ice-cold impact of Sister Catherine’s hands propelled him forward.

KK stumbled through the closet door, arms flailing wildly as his brain tried to orient itself to the sudden shift in reality. He didn’t get a chance to regain his balance before Sister Catherine’s hand closed hard around the back of his neck. She slammed his head sharply against the wooden frame of the closet and KK dropped to the ground, ears ringing from the blow and spots flickering in front of his eyes.

He blinked at the ceiling, dazed and prone on the floor. Sister Catherine’s shadow-draped form walked away from him towards the bedroom door as a force latched onto his feet and flung him across the floor back into the closet. The room spat him back out the bedroom door directly into the ghostly nun’s path. Her foot crashed down hard on his chest, an impossible, immeasurable weight pinning him down. KK wheezed desperately against the pressure, fumbling in his pocket for something to defend himself. Sister Catherine loomed over him, a glint of silver in her right hand catching his attention. It was a crucifix, its base sharpened into a point like a sacrificial dagger. She held it raised over her head and swung her hand downwards, intent to end his life. KK managed to free the pentacle from his pocket and held it up in front of his face as a meager shield, eyes screwed shut as he braced himself for the impending pain.

Nothing.

Cautiously, KK opened one eye, then the other.

His own hands, trembling as they held up the large pendant, were the only things in his immediate line of view. He struggled into a seated position and looked around the empty room. His ears were still ringing from the blow to the head and it took him a moment to really register the sound of his discarded EMF meter. It lay on the floor where it had been flung out of his hands, emitting a shrill, electronic tone each time it registered a fluctuation above 5 mg. The beeping was regular and measured, like a heartbeat.

KK swallowed heavily and clutched the pentacle a little tighter, drawing it closer to his chest.

Cold fingers wrapped around his face and KK screamed, scrambling away from the hand as terror consumed him. An unseen force gripped his ankles, dragging him across the floor and towards the bed. KK’s frantic pleas were downed out by the constant screech of the EMF meter. His fingers dug into the carpet. He could feel his nails ripping as he tried futilely to drag himself away from whatever was pulling at him.

KK vanished beneath the bed. His world became a blinding wash of pain, every nerve on fire from the inside out. The only noise was a desperate, high keen of an animal being devoured. He couldn’t even recognize it as his own voice.

As swiftly as it started, KK was flung back out the far side of the bed and slammed hard against the wall. He stayed sprawled there for a moment, his breathing labored as he failed to pull enough oxygen into his burning lungs. He coughed hard, a metallic taste falling thick across his tongue. A dark red smear of blood stained his palm and dripped down his chin as he pulled his hand away. KK stared at it in something close to bemusement, shock setting in swiftly as his vision started to close in around him.

“Definitely too far,” he choked out as blackness rose up to claim him.

Anna Winter dashed down the driveway, rain dampening her dark hair and soaking through her black clothes. Mike and Claire were loading a few more boxes into the moving van as she hurried to retrieve their lunch. Thunder rumbled in the distance, ominous and oppressive. Joke’s on the universe , she thought. One more night and they were gone from this place. A brighter, better future than she could have ever imagined for herself was just another sundown away. She tried to ignore the intrusive feeling that it wasn’t something she deserved. The ugliness was behind her now; it was time to move forward. For Claire’s sake if nothing else.

She splashed to a halt next to the car at the bottom of the long driveway. The magnetic sign affixed to the top garishly declared its purpose to any who cared to notice.

“That’ll be twenty-nine-oh-nine,” the pizza man drawled, handing over the box with a look that Anna couldn’t quite decipher.

Anna hunched over it slightly to protect the cardboard from the rain as best as she could. Trying not to feel like she was being judged, she handed over two bills and a handful of change from the pockets of her dark clothes.

“Thanks,” she called over her shoulder as she turned to make the dash back up the driveway to the moving van.

She was halfway there when the voice of the delivery driver stopped her.

“Wait!”

She turned around, still trying her best to keep the majority of the rain off of the pizza box, and gave the driver an impatient look. The chill of damp fabric clung to her skin, setting off goosebumps. Anna fought against the desire to shiver.

“This is twenty-one-oh-six. I said twenty-one-oh-nine,” the driver said.

Really? He was going to give her a hard time over that ?

“It’s three cents,” she said incredulously.

The driver just shrugged and continued to look at her expectantly.

“I don’t have three cents,” Anna declared.

What Anna did have was a hungry family and rapidly declining patience. She was wet, tired, and beyond ready for this day to be over. The driver didn’t appear to have any sympathy and merely shrugged again, dismissive. She’d been on the receiving end of looks like that often enough in her youth and her temper flared hotly.

Anna reached into her pocket, scowling, and pulled her hand back out with her middle finger raised. She gave him her best sarcastic smile as she flipped him off. Anna turned and sprinted the rest of the way up the driveway, ignoring his annoyed shouts behind her. Asshole , she thought scathingly.

Mike and Claire were sitting in the back of the truck as she approached, voices overlapping as they cheered her on.

“Hurry, Mommy!”

“C’mon, honey, don’t let the pizza get wet.”

Anna triumphantly climbed into the back of the van, handing the pizza over to Mike, who took it from her with an amused smile.

“Your makeup, Mommy,” Claire giggled, pointing at Anna’s face.

Anna didn’t need a mirror to know that the rain had finally gotten to the heavy mascara around her eyes, which was now smudged down her cheeks in places. If the delivery driver hadn’t insisted on being so fucking pedantic about three cents she might have avoided looking like someone had tried to drown her. Still, she smiled indulgently at her daughter, swiping a finger through the smudges and motioning in her direction.

“What’s so funny? You want some?” Anna teased, mock-threatening with her makeup-smeared finger as the ten-year-old shrieked delightedly and tried to scramble away.

She caught Claire with her other arm and dragged her close, pressing a noisy kiss to the girl’s cheek instead. Claire would never have to deal with a world that was indifferent to her pain and problems. Not like Anna had growing up.

Mike chuckled to himself, watching them with obvious affection as he opened the pizza box to retrieve the first of the hard-earned slices. Outside the rain drove down harder, showing no signs of letting up. Anna hoped they wouldn’t have to move the last of the boxes in the rain tomorrow. Never mind dealing with the extra clean up that wet shoes would require. She did her best to shake off the black mood she felt creeping up on her and reached for a slice of her own.