"You should know better than to trust the word of the devil." His gaze roamed over her body, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "And now, I want you even more. It's your fault for tempting me."
Beatrice's eyes shot open, and she woke up abruptly. The preacher's voice echoed through the temple, but it only added to her mounting unease.
The rain had ceased and the sun blazed down, casting colorful reflections on the stained glass windows across the room.
Yet, the depiction of God - Solariel - ascending into the sky with people kneeling before Him only served to worsen her unease. Sweat clung to her skin, and her pulse pounded in her ears, threatening to overwhelm her.
Arthur's voice broke through her panic, and she turned to face him. His worried expression reflected her own inner turmoil. "What happened, Beatrice? Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched into his features.
She tried to respond, but her shoulder felt cold under his touch, her body tense with fear. He shook her shoulder, calling her name until she jolted back to reality.
"Arthur, is this reality? This is not a dream, right?" she asked, her voice trembling with fear. The lines between reality and dream had blurred, and she didn't know what was real anymore.
Her mind raced with terrifying thoughts of being trapped in a nightmare.
Arthur's face crinkled with confusion. "Yes, of course, this is reality! Are you feeling unwell?" he asked, growing more concerned by the second.
Beatrice nodded, still trembling. She needed to leave this place, to get away from the dream that felt all too real. The temple's walls seemed to close in on her, suffocating her with memories of her nightmare. Arthur carried her out of the temple, worried that she would faint.
…
It had been three long, torturous days since the nightmare in the temple had consumed her. Beatrice couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't do anything.
She was a prisoner in her room, trapped in the suffocating darkness of her thoughts. Her mind was overrun with guilt and fear, her heart heavy with the weight of her sins.
As she stared blankly at the wall, she couldn't help but think that she was cursed. That God had abandoned her and left her at the mercy of the Devil.
She wondered what she had done to deserve such a punishment, to be trapped in a never-ending cycle of terror and humiliation.
Her once bright and lively face was now a canvas of exhaustion and despair. The light that once shone in her eyes was absent, replaced with a hollow emptiness that was impossible to ignore.
Beatrice knew that something had changed within her. She couldn't reconcile the devout child she once was with the woman she had become.
She had mocked and disdained God, had turned her back on His teachings, and now she was paying the price for her arrogance.
Her thoughts were consumed with guilt and self-loathing. She had to find a way to make amends, to beg for God's forgiveness.
But as the days passed, Beatrice couldn't shake the feeling that it was too late for her. That she was doomed to be trapped in this endless nightmare forever.
She remembered that day, the day that her nanny still have and everything was warm and save.
That day, the sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the room where Beatrice and her nanny sat. They were poring over the Golden Verses, and Beatrice was intently reading each line.
"Nanny, what does this mean?" asked Beatrice, pointing to a passage that spoke of God's greatness and compassion.
"It means that God is all-powerful, my dear and that He loves us all, no matter what," explained her nanny, a kind smile on her face.
Beatrice listened intently, taking in every word. She loved reading the Golden Verses with her nanny. They made her feel safe and loved, knowing that God was always watching over her.
Beatrice's memories of her nanny brought a warm and serene smile to her face, as she thought of the kind and gentle woman who always listened and soothed her.
She longed to hear her soft voice once more, but all that remained was a void. In her heart, her nanny was her real mother, and she yearned for her loving embrace.
If only her nanny were still with her now, everything would be okay. She would hold her close and never let go, and Beatrice would know that she was never alone.
As she gazed into the distance, Beatrice tried to recall the first time she had turned away from God and hated her own body. The memories were painful, but she knew that she needed to confront them to find peace.
She closed her eyes and let herself drift back in time, feeling a tinge of sadness and longing as she relived those difficult moments.
Beatrice wandered the halls of the Devonshire manor, feeling lost and alone. As she turned a corner, she saw her uncle standing there, his eyes gleaming with something that made her uncomfortable.
They exchanged pleasantries, but something felt off. And then, suddenly, he touched her hand, and then her bottom.
Her heart raced as she realized what was happening. She tried to pull away, but her uncle held her in a tight grip, pressing her against the wall. Her mind raced with fear and confusion as she prayed for someone to save her. But no one came.
In a moment of desperation, she lashed out, striking her uncle with all her might. But it was too late. He dragged her to her mother.
"How dare you raise such a shameless and impure daughter! Her body is so disgustingly tempting that even her own uncle can't resist! And now she has the nerve to physically assault me? She's nothing but a filthy little whore!" Her uncle's face twisted with rage as he spewed his vitriol at her mother, his voice booming with fury.
But instead of comfort, Beatrice was met with her mother's angry face. "How dare you hit your uncle!" her mother shouted, and she slapped Beatrice hard across the face.
"You're nothing but a dirty little girl! You should be ashamed of yourself!"
The sound of her mother's hand slapping her cheek echoed through the empty halls of the manor. However, the pain of the slap was nothing compared to the pain of betrayal.
Beatrice felt lost, confused, and deeply hurt. She couldn't comprehend why her mother was angry at her for defending herself. Why was her uncle touching her in such a way in the first place?
The weight of these questions bore down on her, suffocating her with a sense of hopelessness and despair. It was as if the very people who were supposed to protect her had turned against her.
The deep sense of betrayal and sadness that washed over her made her feel like she had lost a part of herself. She was alone, lost, and struggling.
The shame and confusion she felt after the incident made her resent her own body. She couldn't help but blame herself, thinking that maybe it was her fault for being too open or too tempting.
She longed to hide her body away and never show it to anyone again. Even now, it still lingers. But what hurt, even more, was the resentment she felt toward the adults who were supposed to protect her.
'I was just fifteen that day! Why would they be ashamed and blame her? What could a fifteen-year-old do?' she thought to herself.
She had always been a devout follower, attending the temple every Friday, reading the Golden Verses, and praying fervently. But now, all of those beliefs were shattered.
How could a loving God allow such pain and suffering? Why did he take away her beloved nanny? How could her own mother betray her? These questions burned in her mind, shaking the foundation of her faith.
The loss of her faith left her feeling adrift, unsure of her place in the world. She felt abandoned by God, and the thought of living in a world without divine guidance was terrifying.
But then, she had a dream. A man appeared to her, and she felt an overwhelming sense of desire and passion that she had never experienced before.
Who was he? Was he a figment of her imagination or a sign from the divine?
His touch ignited a fire inside her that she couldn't extinguish, even after waking up. She longed to feel his hands on her again, to be worshipped and desired like that once more.
She tried to push the thoughts from her mind, to ignore the temptation, but it was too strong to resist.
She wondered if she was being tested, or if this was a punishment for her loss of faith.
It was wrong, she knew that. He was the Devil, the embodiment of sin and temptation. But the pull he had on her was too strong to resist.
She could feel herself slipping, and she knew that she needed to find a way to resist his allure. But the thought of giving in, of being consumed by her own lust, was almost too much to bear.
"Is this the devil's plan, or is it my own weakness?" she wondered, unsure of what to do next.
She didn't know how to stop it. She was terrified of what he would do to her. Did he drag her into hell? Or will he show her another heaven?