❝ When a prisoner finds his savior, he believes there is a God. ❞
❝ When a daughter of the lord meets a son of sin, she'll start to understand the calling of the dark. ❞
• Book cover made by me •
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
SHE looked down at her hands.
The white wraps on them were soft against the rough patch of flesh underneath. They were uncomfortable and itched against where the sores were, but it was all part of the process.
Dorothy sighed quietly to herself as she looked to Sister Jude across from her. Those wicked eyes of hers were directly staring into her soul as if her chest was popped open to reveal her ribcage. It was a stare she was used to seeing. Ever since she was a young girl, Dorothy had this look directed at her; derived of an odd wonderment and exasperation. Before, it had been Pope Pius that had stared at her and kept her under his white wing of salvation. Here, the Daughter of God felt like she was being suffocated by Sister Jude's demonic claw.
"How bad is it?" Sister Jude asked, pushing the leather-bound Bible before her, but never straying her stare from the girl. Under the ivory veil she wore, Dorothy could practically feel the burning stare lit up like a thousand torches.
Dorothy took a moment, swallowing and running the pads of her thumbs across the linen. "Manageable."
Sister Jude chuckled richly, eyebrows raising as if the idea of Dorothy's situation was funny to begin with. "With belief and with devotion, trials such as this tend to be a reoccurring theme in one's life. Of course, the physical pain can be helped, but I cannot say much for mental stability-...,"
