Castle of the Damned | ✔

Chapter 9: Take Me to Church

The sun burned.

Erin knew summer in the southern part of France was not to be underestimated. Temperatures often rose so high she swore her body might melt and her soul might evaporate along with it. There was such a thing as too much heat and this particular day provided it in spades.

Inescapable heat had always irritated Erin a little. It turned her words curt and clipped and she'd often worn sunglasses with a dual motive: hiding the annoyance in her eyes was just as important as protecting them from the sun. She liked Southern France's overall atmosphere, but could do without its hotness. If it hadn't been for her parents' age-old tradition of vacationing in France each summer, she'd have appreciated going to a colder country instead.

She'd suggested that once, she vaguely recalled, skipping France for a year in favour of someplace cooler, Norway or Scotland, she couldn't remember which one. But her parents had stubbornly clung to what felt familiar to them. We've always gone to France with Jason's family, they'd said. Be happy you get to go on a vacation at all. It's a privilege.

And that had been the end of it, partly because at least spending time with Jason and Thomas got her through those few weeks a year without getting bored, partly because disagreeing with her parents was simply out of the question. So out of the question Erin had simply avoided it as often as she could.

They'd been her parents and she'd loved them, but couldn't deny they'd been exceptionally rigid folks. Set in their ways, close-minded. The My wish is your command type of parents. They'd tell Erin what she had to think or be and all she'd had to do after was live up to what was expected of her. And that expectation had been simple and easy in its own way: do as we say and give yourself up for us if that's what it takes.

It had been an easy expectation to meet. It had been so incredibly easy for years and years, and where had that gotten her? After all that time, Erin was still in France, still in that feverish bloody heat. Still stuck in that same old past, unable to move on and free herself from the iron grip of people long dead.

The sun burned a lot.

Erin scanned her environment once more for good measure. She'd checked thrice already, but with nothing to keep her occupied, it was easy to convince herself she may have missed a waiting spot with lots of shade close to where she'd agreed to meet up with Dess. Annoyingly, no such spot materialised. Erin would have to make peace with the fact she wouldn't find a cooler place to sit and wait.

The church, located behind her, probably dated from a time in which ordinary people like her were often little but peasant farmers. Still, it seemed the municipality of Saint-Vincent-en-Montagne had never been blessed with the bright idea of planting trees around it. Short, yellowed grass surrounded the building. A moss-covered little stone wall and a wooden gate separated it from the rest of the village. But no trees. No shade.

Damned shame.

Erin sighed and leaned back where she sat on the side of the quiet road, her back connecting with the stone of a small plinth. God, even that stone felt much too warm. She shifted her position, getting closer to the very slight bit of shade the statue of a crucified Jesus Christ towering above her could provide.

She had a thing with statues this summer, didn't she? First the one in the dungeon speaking to her and now Jesus, glancing up to the heavens in anguish as his crown of thorns damaged his skin and sent painted rivulets of red blood into his flaring nostrils and opened mouth. Erin chose not to discriminate and concluded she loathed both statues equally. If she had to pick, though, she figured she still preferred Jesus, even though his statue here was in dire need of refurbishing, black spots left by its peeling paint giving it an eerie vibe.