"You've been a big help lately," Isabelle said.
She flipped through the pages of her notebook with a weathered hand, reaching the point where hurried and small text gave way to nothingness. With great care, she grabbed a pen and started to draft an entry.
Catherine smiled and bowed her head. "Of course, Sister Isabelle. I'm glad to be of assistance."
"And I'm sure that the other sisters appreciate it as well," Isabelle said, flashing a terse smile. "The church may be holy but it is not exactly the most comfortable sleeping abode. But regardless, I do still like to have at least one member of the clergy here just in case of an emergency."
"Has there ever been an emergency?" Catherine asked.
Isabelle shook her head. "Not since I was a little girl. Sure, the occasional farmer may stop by to summon the bishop for an exorcism but..." She snorted. "Let's just say a Doctor is a far more qualified person to summon in the event of a stroke. Still, the last rites are usually delivered promptly."
She finished with her entry and closed the book.
"Still, keeping the lights on keeps any young hooligans at bay," Isabelle said. "I'm less worried about late-night confessions and more worried about broken windows."
Catherine smirked. "Kids these days."
"You should be careful with how you speak," Isabelle teased. "To me you're still one of those kids." She sighed and shook her head. "Alas, I best get back to work. There is much to be done and Father Gabriel does not entrust many with his added labours."
"Of course, Sister," Catherine said.
She offered one last bow of her head before slipping out of the office and back into the church proper.
"So, you're staying the night again?" a familiar voice asked.
Catherine turned and looked at Sister Karen. They were about the same age, in their early twenties. Though where Karen looked plain, with long black hair and a rather boring figure, Catherine was either blessed or cursed with something else entirely.
It was a blessing, since she understood her own inherent beauty. After all, she had a head of lush red hair, a face full of freckles, and a figure that many women her age would've craved.
But it was also a curse because every boy in town seemed to take joy in the concept of converting this Sister of God to a less than holy lifestyle.
"I am," Catherine said.
Karen shook her head. "Why though, you haven't stayed more than a couple nights in the convent in the last two months." She flashed a smile. "Come on, blow it off and spend the night with us. Caroline snuck in a bottle of vodka and we're going to be playing poker."
"My, my," Catherine teased, "you lot really are going to be touching on all the sins tonight, aren't you?"
"I'm sure we'll pay for it during our confession," Karen teased. "Plus, wouldn't it be nice to sleep in a proper bed, in a warm room, and not on that lumpy old cot that Isabelle thinks is appropriate accommodations?"
"Some of us take our duties more seriously than others," Catherine explained. "I wish to be closer to god and this provides me with a convenient excuse."
"Why?" Karen whined.
Catherine frowned. "I've experienced temptation these last few weeks and I must atone for that. And this provides a far more tangible penance than merely having Father Gabriel scold me."
Karen sighed. "Fine, fine, you absolute weirdo." She huffed. "You do know this place is haunted, right?"
"I've heard the rumours," Catherine said, flashing a playful smile. "And they've proven to be largely untrue."
"Largely?" Karen asked, cocking a brow.
Catherine nodded and made her over to one of the pews, taking a seat upon it.
"No zombies or demons," she said, "but I do believe that I saw a ghost at one point. It floated through to Sister Isabelle's office."
"No shit?" Karen whispered. Her eyes were wide. "Are you sure?"
"Positive," Catherine said, nodding her head towards the office. "Could be the lost soul of the former sister who previously filled her role."
There was a tick, a moment of silence, which persisted between them. Then Catherine started snickering uncontrollably.
Karen looked confused but then it clicked.
"You bitch!" she yelped. Though she made sure to keep her cussing to a hushed level. "You lied to me!"
"Only because I enjoyed the look on your face," Catherine shot back.
"You really are going to need penance," Karen grumbled. "God is most displeased with liars, you know."
"I'm sure they'll find it in their heart to forgive me," Catherine whispered, wiping at her eyes.
Another moment of silence was soon there, settling between them.
Finally, Karen sighed. "Alright, I better go check on the gardens. Enjoy another evening with god, Catherine. I'll be playing poker and trading shots with the other sisters."
Catherine bowed her head. "I always do."
Catherine knelt before the altar, clutching the rosary beads between her hands. She fed them through her knuckles, praying silently as she did so.
Only a few weak lights illuminated the space around her, casting it in an eerie semi-darkness that seemed to make every shadow longer and more sinister.
She was used to this. It was a familiar sensation. That slight wrongness that seemed to nestle within her gullet. It clutched at her chest, making her heart quiver.
Her praying was delivered in hushed phrases that she murmured under her breath. She begged for protection, for forgiveness, hoping that this night would not be like the others that came before.
A light brightened from behind her and Catherine winced. It would seem that her Father in heaven had not been attentive to her specific concerns this evening.
She sighed. "You're back."
"Of course, I'm back," a familiar voice called.
The voice was as smooth as silk though bore an edge that would've cut through metal if it so desired.
"So how is my favourite sister doing tonight?" the voice asked. "Are the local boys still bugging you?"
"It's the funniest thing," Catherine said, though there was no humour in her voice. "It would seem that they ended up in a car accident earlier this week. All three are in the hospital, thankfully with minor injuries."
The voice whistled. "Fate can be such a cruel Mistress."
Catherine finally forced her gaze away from Christ and turned to look at her guest.
The demon smiled at her, showing off rows of razor-sharp teeth and dragging an elongated tongue across her crimson-coloured lips. For once, the demon had actually adorned herself in clothing, going with a black robe to hide her shame. Her skin was the colour of magma and two horns gutted forth from her scalp. She had a head of snow-white hair. It was long and straight, licking at the back of her garb.
"Have you reflected on our previous conversation?" the Demon asked.
Catherine frowned. "I have."
"And did 'God' provide you with any answers," the Demon asked.