Luke 16:10 (An Avatrice Fanfiction)

Psalm 56:3

When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.

Something weighs heavy on Ava's back. Her eyes split open from the pain it brings. She tries to cry out, but her voice dies on her lips. It sears into her ribcage and singes her throat, cutting into each gasp for air. Ava tries to reach out, but her limbs are locked in place, bitter numb against the cement. Bare rock closes in on her at all sides. It's dark, but in the faint light, stalactites bare their teeth. Water droplets splotch her cheeks, and it takes all her energy to shake off the wetness. Ava tries to twitch a finger, bend a knee, anything, but there's nothing left of her here. Just that flame in her back, igniting her underground prison. Ava coughs and sputters. Her voice cracks into the frozen atmosphere.

"I CAN'T.... I CAN'T MOVE!"

Her throat is taken again, and her words die on hoarse whispers. The numbness crawls up her body, taking her heartbeat first. Her veins grow cold. There is no warmth here, in a place that the sunlight has not touched in centuries. Ava tries to control her breathing like the nuns taught her to. She counts the seconds that tick by. Rock walls glisten in the Halo's light, but grow dim with time. Soon, even her neck is taken by the numbness, and all she can feel is the frozen tip of her nose. Ava shudders, and the light in her back extinguishes.

In the darkness, Ava can only hear herself breathing. She might as well be afloat in the stars. But there's something that holds her down. It's a cold metal, pressed into her ear. Ava cocks her head to the side to listen in.

".... Beatrice?" she asks the device. Silence rings in her ears, distant yet omnipresent. Ava calls for her name again, but her lips grow cold before vanishing into numbness. Ice-cold water the last feeling to caress in her cheeks. Ava shuts her eyes—not that it matters in this all-consuming dark. The sound of dripping water is her only indicator of where she is. Even if anyone is beyond those thick cave walls, they would surely heed the etched warnings. Let the dead rest.

Then, fire rips through her chest. Ava's piercing scream blots out the quiet. The cave ignites with holy light. Ava watches her shadow dance across the rock walls, backlit by the circle between her shoulder blades. Her hand reaches out to the stalactites, which glisten red in the light. Heat pulsates through every inch of skin. Ava sits up against the rock wall, then falls back into the rock. It's a hard thing, too thick to phase through. Fresh pain shoots up her arm as she slams into her prison wall. Cracks jut out of the dent where her fist makes contact, but the cave stands strong. She might as well be in that body bag again, crying out to God as the pain of life delivers her. But this time, there's nowhere to go. It's just her and walls of stone, holding her as the halo rips through her broken body.

***

Ava's world shifts in the blink of an eye. She breaks out of her sleeping bag, gasping for fresh air. It's warmer here—her skin tingles against the soft electrical hum of lamplight. Ava grips the cold floor, grateful for the smooth cobbled stone against her fingertips. The halo singes her back. Its brilliant light pulsates with every breath. Someone cradles her shoulder, and Ava grasps the hand with hers. When she looks up, Beatrice is there. The nun whispers her name, and her bright brown eyes search for Ava's gaze. They lock eyes with one another, and Ava's breathing instinctively slows.

"Ava? Ava, are you okay?" Beatrice asks. Ava nods, clasping the other girl's hand. She can feel the tug of a smile at her lips despite the tears that well in her eyes. Before Ava can wipe them away, Beatrice pulls Ava into a hug. She cradles her shaking form, whispering a lullaby that Ava can't quite comprehend. The halo starts to flicker and fade. As Ava falls into Beatrice's warmth, the halo's violent heat begins to fizzle out.

Over Beatrice's shoulder, Ava finds a world of green. She recognizes the old glass walls that make way to the twinkling night sky. Broad-leafed trees encapsulate her view, framing the universe from inside the old greenhouse. As the last memory of the nightmare tugs at her mind, this place starts to look more familiar. She and the Sister Warriors had only found Adriel a few days ago, and they had been on the run ever since. Now, this abandoned greenhouse was their temporary home, until it was time to cover their tracks again. Lamplight casts harsh shadows on stone angels that watch over Ava and Beatrice as they hold one another. Their moss-covered wings spread across chiseled walls, protecting their makeshift camp. Vibrant green ferns guard the room's edges, where stone gives way to glass.