Prologue: Hallelujah
The room smelled of vanilla flowers and almonds. More or less the same as when you open an old book and the aroma of the crinkled pages captivate your nose. It was simple yet sweet. The delicate scent amounted to nothing compared to the cold, dark grey stone walls and floors. There was no source of light except for the small ray that shone on the floor from the sun beaming through the barred window. Even then, the room was devastatingly black.
The back of a dark wooden chair sat in the sun's rays. The warmth of the sun toasted the surface yet the frigidness of the room casted a piercing cold sensation to the touch. Rough deep scratches coated the seat and the sides of the chair. Each engraved mark having meaning. Every nun that sat in that exact seat implemented their horrified thoughts by the scratch of their fingernails on the wood. Mental torture scribbled on the surface as if it was secret language for the tormented souls to share.
A tall slim woman of deep brown melaninated skin sat across from the agonizing sight of the sorrowful chair. She wore the traditional clothing of a nun. The black and white attire and the headdress that framed the face. As well as the long skirt which covered the tip of the feet. The clothing masked her curvaceous physique. Plump breasts and thick thighs enclosed by the black fabric. Her woolly hair formed into small twists. Her head like a jungle. Just like the untold mysteries of her mind, her hair was full of secrets. This mystical woman goes by the name of Zeta Darkest.
"Hello."
Her tongue brushed the roof of her slick mouth. The dept of her deep cream voice was the perfect pair to her posh British accent. Her thick lips pressed ever so gently against each other at the end of her speech.
Dinah scanned her figure, she couldn't bring herself to utter a single word. Her body laid helplessly in the chair across from Zeta. She rubbed her hands against the side of the seat. Her index and middle fingers feeling the grooves, a silent scream of the victimized echoing through her mind. The fibers of her black skirt slightly slid against the side of her thumb.
"Well," Zeta fixed her hands to where her fingers intertwined with each other, sitting flawlessly upon her crossed legs.
"I have come to ask you a few questions."
The same silkened tongue placing a coat of glossy wetness on the surface of her lips, "Intimate questions."
The silence of Dinah's voice might have taken over the room, but the ravaging fire took over her mind, setting aflame her thoughts.
