Nephilim and the Nun

•Chapter Four•

Adina:
It's been two weeks since I stepped into the church basement to see the man who now owned my dreams like he was meant to be there. Worse than owning my dreams, I couldn't stop recreating images of him in different paintings and sketches. Over the past week, I'd tried desperately to ignore this new obsession with the man's body and to draw something else. I even tried sketching the nude images of the feminine body that used to be my guilty pleasure, hoping I'd derive satisfaction from returning to my old act, but it was all in vain. Halfway through it, I lost the zeal to continue, leading me to abandon the incomplete sketch.

My eyes drifted from one painting to another, studying the intricate details that matched the exact looks of the man I've been seeing in my dreams. At this point, it was getting hard to believe I'd actually met him live with the number of times he's appeared in my dreams. I only have the vivid memory of seeing him naked, which is more than a good reminder that I'd seen him. Also, I could still remember Mother Theresa's words and warnings against association with people of his kind, or rather, beings of his kind but even her words couldn't stop me from wondering what was truly beyond the four walls of the parish.

Were there beings like him roaming freely in the outside world? But then considering he looked no different from the human male, except for his questionable beauty, were all males built with such a well-sculpted body, or was he different?

These thoughts wandered around my mind as I continued staring at the pictures.

I'd considered asking Mother Theresa about his looks but then after her reaction the last time I'd mentioned the man, I knew it wasn't a good idea. My question will be left unanswered and instead, I'd be scolded for still having thoughts of Lucifer's son, as she'd called him.

But then, if he was truly an offspring of the most dangerous and greatest evil to exist, doesn't that mean more trouble for the human race and the Lord's creations in general?

This was another point I was yet to consider, and you wonder why I couldn't forget the man? His existence was simply a mystery to me, one that left my curious mind constantly searching for answers. And again, as I've constantly mentioned, he was sinfully beautiful_the kind that you couldn't just ignore or even forget no matter how hard you try. It's as though he was deeply embedded in my brain. The fact that he was so close yet so far away from my reach made it worse. I wanted to see him again and maybe get some explanations from him on his existence_thats if he was kind enough to share but that didn't seem like it was going to come to pass any time soon.

Hopefully, I get to see him again.

I was still lost to thoughts of this stranger's existence story when I heard a knock on my door. Scampering to my feet, I struggled to clear the sketches and paintings lying around, shoving most of them underneath the bed while hiding the rest behind the pillow. The knock sounded again but thankfully, I was done but that didn't stop me from looking around the room, wary of whoever was behind the door and just to make sure I'd cleared everything out of sight.

"Hold on," I called back, expelling a deep breath to calm my nerves and racing heart.

Slowly, I stepped towards the door and unlocked it to see Mother Theresa there staring at me with narrowed eyes and brows knitted together in question. Although I knew her unasked question, I didn't dare answer it. I couldn't give it out that I'd been up to something illicit.

"What took you so long?"

"I was napping, mother. Your knock jolted me from my sleep,"

"You've been lazing about all day, Adina. What have I told you about lazy people?" she asked, crossing her arms around her torso and staring down at me.