Essence of Demise | ThirdUnion

39: Whispering Sinner

France opened her eyes. Hearing the sounds of the late night creeks and turns as the moon took its turn to pass through the sky.

Her skin didn't shiver despite feeling cold in the stone chapel.

Settled on her knees she stared up at her cross, the lantern she had set down barely illuminated the room, but the open blinds brought in enough light from the pale moon.

She knew it was almost time, and that is why she had come to pray again. Hoping it would be soon.

Her mind had been tickling lightly, as her thoughts were focused on another being which she had recently taken in.

It had been a few days and nothing had come from the Nazi.

The pregnancy had peaked her mind. Never had she had such an issue arise in her thoughts and home. But she couldn't help it at this point.

The nun sighed silently, not daring to show a sign of annoyance in her peaceful and righteous domain. The air was clean and open here, different from the outside world that she had prayed to be blessed with the same lifting feeling.

There was no devil in the air. Nor around her, yet somehow she was still cursed upon with wicked thoughts.

She had not only come to pray as she always did, but to repent of some particularly worldly desires. Yet she also- somehow- saw reason behind them. Something was calling to her to act upon such things, and she saw the logic, the reason behind them. Never would she regret the promises and devotions she had made. Though, still she couldn't help wanting something, or someone.

Perhaps, a little one of her own to raise, under the same faith and principles of course.

France closed her eyes, her mind thinking of other things as she dropped her head lower than usual for a moment.

Of course she could never bare a child herself. But someone else could for her. And someone else had just recently come into her life.

Perhaps this was a sign- a gift that would be bestowed upon her.

With another drift of the frozen night air. France bowed her head to the portraits. To the glass windows and crosses around. To her religion and faith.

Once again she continues to repent of her wants for a child, to want a burden that would distract her from the work she had devoted her life to. But repenting wouldn't stop her from thinking of them.

But as she put aside her sinful wants, her mind focused on other things. Praying for others, and the damned souls of the earth.

For the future baby that would soon be brought into the world.

Praying that it would be a girl.

Though, even with her relentless whispering and speaking, her pledges and wishes to be answered. To have a healthy child, not to spoil but to raise along faithfully with her.

She did not pray for the mother.

France's expression nearly scolded, pride pushing through her unwillingly.

May a potential relic find peace in the loss of loved ones, and may a lying whore rest in the bottom worries of hell.

May a mother of sin be damned and be taken to her rightful fate, but a child of clean life be blessed before the cross.

Frances' eyes suddenly opened, she paused before lifting her head. Her attention scanned towards the open windows of the once silent night.

Quick she was to stand, lifting her skirt as she grabbed her light and hurried off towards her home.