Abatha Among the Stars

Chapter 1 (Edited)

Chap 1

The young woman walked slowly through the monastery door. The rusty hinges screeched upon their opening. For a brief second, they gave an ominous thud when opened all the way and then creaked on their way back into place behind her with a last resounding bang, as they returned to their frame.

She was to become a nun in a year's time. Well, at least, she thought so. Her personality, she knew, would not fit with their lifestyle. Her youth had been encompassed by fun. There were not many tasks she had been required to accomplish, for being human was not all that hard.

A nun's life was a stark contrast to her childhood. Nuns were required to accomplish many menial tasks in their never-ending attempts to please the living gods. Old nuns flitted around chanting their prayers of worship. The chants were solemn and haunting.

It was the saddest place she had ever seen on Earth. On the bright side, it was kind of like looking through a candy shop with all of the nun's differences: old ones, fat ones, skinny ones, although none were as young as she.

Her dad, a poor, old man from the apartment of Mocre, had walked her to the World Power Human Headquarters building. It was a bleak, black cathedral whose central tower almost reached the glass dome. The building had a menacing aura about it.

She and the many other humans entered its hallowed halls to worship every Sunday. For this reason, she was quite familiar with the building. She never enjoyed attending its holy service, for a world of control lied within. When she had entered its impenetrable metal doors that day, an old, black nun came to greet her.

"And this thing?" She turned down her nose at Abatha and then stared at a clipboard with her eyebrows raised. This clipboard, no doubt contained the many names of those whose fate would now be decided.

"My name is Abatha." Abatha stated quietly.

The nun laughed, not impressed by any means. "Young lady, you are a child until the ceremony," she said with raised eyebrows. Abatha knew that this meant she still had to follow the rule of "a child is to be hidden, not seen, and much less spoken to" rule. This, she had always thought, was a dumb rule.
Abatha, never the less, lowered her gaze. She kept a mindful watch on what was going on through the corners of her eyes. After handing some formal papers to the father, the nun then grabbed Abatha roughly by the wrist.

Abatha followed without complaint, for she knew she had no other choice. The nun made no effort to slow down and her yanking persisted regardless of Abatha's stumbling.

Abatha could only manage to look at the dark black marble floor. She hoped, with all her might, that she could watch her every move fast enough so that she could avoid a concussion. She felt, as though, at any moment she could fall flat on her face.

Before she knew it, the nun had finally stopped. This she knew was the next process. She was now to be whipped for all her human sins. The room was rather small, no bigger than the size of a latrine. It was all made of a very dark wood whose color was of a dark brown that one could drown in. The only decorations were the whips that were displayed across the walls.

Abatha whimpered lightly as the nun suddenly let go. Her body had fallen forward the instant the nun let go; thankfully, she caught herself in time to avoid injury. The nun wrenched a whip from a wooden chair, beckoning for her to lay her torso over its seat, exposing her back. Abatha did so without complaint.

"You will receive fifty lashes for all your human sins." The nun said nonchalantly. Abatha lurched forward banging her hands against the wall in front of her as she attempted to catch herself, realizing that there was no need since her body lay over a chair. The first lash had been swung, there were many more after that. She lost count after twenty. Silent tears ran down her eyes, the fifty lashes felt like a million. In that instant, there was no escape, even though, she wished with all her might that there was.

She bit her lip hard, fighting the sounds that were threatening to come forth. She would not give this woman the benefit of hearing her pain. Breathing through her nose, she focused on other things. The one thing that stuck in her mind was her small apartment where her parents lived. Her parents, like many other people within the glass dome, had many children for the cause of the system, but she had only known one. She was lucky in this because most people did not know any of there siblings at all.

Abatha was forced, to pay attention, when the chair slid from under her torso, and she crashed down to the floor. Even in this instance, she uttered nothing. She was in searing amounts of pain, due to the fact that she had not stopped herself from hitting the dark wooden slabs. Shaking, she attempted not to glare at anything through frustration.

Keeping her face as stoic as possible, she placed her hands beneath her, and then began to press down on the floor to slowly raise her weight to a standing position. It took a lot of effort not to groan. She managed to somehow keep silent.

Her sides ached from the cramps of her reproductive cycle, with any luck she would lose the cycle by the end of the ceremony. There was no need for anyone but the humans to reproduce; naturally, other species had no need for periods.

"You will walk up the steps that are to my left. Procession will begin at eight. This will determine your fate; may the gods be enamored with you." The nun said. It was the end of the world for her, and Abatha knew it.

Gathering all the courage she could possibly muster, she moved gradually towards the stairs. Her body felt like a limp, broken mass as she moved inch by agonizing inch. The steps that she took may have been painful, but they were nothing compared to the ones she took up the never-ending incline. Those damned rickety, old steps were large, which meant they had a lot of distance between each other. She slid across each surface of the step, caressing her legs as she did. Then she picked each leg up with her hands to force them up the edges of the steps. This she repeated with every step she encountered. It was a long hard process. When she finally made it to the top she felt a wave of relief and sighed.

The procession crowd assembled in the hallway that lead to the preparing room. Like animals awaiting slaughter, they were unaware of what was to happen. Most were, in fact, unaware of anything. They kept their heads down as they walked and just followed the person in front of them. It was like a giant school of fish.

Each and every member of this procession was eighteen; humans were allowed to remain homo sapiens until this age. Then they were all grouped as the blessed children. Blessed children was just a name that sounded nice. Some believed it others were just grateful to leave the dome. Regardless of the views of the many that accumulated, every year for the procession, they all congregated in the same spot, without complaint or question.

"Anythingis better than the Dome." A blond girl to her right murmured under her breath,confirming Abatha's thoughts, why anyone would want to gather in such aplace. The blond girl was one of theones that did not care about her fate, as long as it did not lie within thedome. Probably, she already chose her clan, the banshee, the only group thatcould be chosen into. This was Blonde's only guaranteed way out of the dome; she could still be sent back otherwise.

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Thank you to all, who are reading.