During this time, Scarlet was trying to find her way through the dark tunnel that led to the center of the earth.
She had no doubt in her mind that they were on their way to the final circle of hell itself.
She leaped forward into the winding unknown with her hands held out in front of her in an attempt to prevent her from stumbling in the dark.
"I can assure you that we will get back to you as soon as humanly possible with answers to your questions." The sound of Mother Rose's voice was picked up much further down in the basement. "Make an effort to keep up now."
'But I can just make out a few things.' Scarlet grumbled to herself, and almost immediately, a light fire appeared out of nowhere, as if it had been aware of the difficulties she was having.
They were torches that were hung on the sockets that were braced to the wall, and they shone with an orange intensity that made her feel welcomed. Despite this, she was still terrified as she descended because she had an overwhelming sense of isolation.
"In what manner does this witchcraft manifest itself?" Scarlets questioned herself while being aware of the fact that Rose would reprimand her for using profanity while inside the confines of the church.
Her journey was taking much longer than she had anticipated, and she was beginning to feel tired in both her legs and her back.
She would have had to pry her fingers apart in order to get a grip on the enclosed walls around her if it were not for the warmth from the fires; the darkness was cold and damp, and her hands were sweaty.
Her large DD-shaped breasts shook with each pounding of her chest.
The sweat seeds ran down her front, through the aisle of her cleavages, and got obstructed by the tightness of her breasts tightly shut together.
A spiff of cold heat ran down the small of her back, and she had to clutch her breasts because she thought they made so much noise smacking together.
It's funny that the holy mother wasn't there to answer her questions about the peculiarities of the location. It appeared that there was something sufficiently urgent that required a significant amount of attention. She thought.
Scarlet could tell that dawn was just beginning to break through the confines of the night because she could hear the humming getting louder as she moved further.
Already, she had been awake for three hours when she should have been sleeping. In order to get everyone in the abbess ready for the upcoming service, the sisters who were in charge of the prayers for that week would rouse the rest of the community with a frightening, almost eerie hum.
This hum was a combination of Gregorian chants and a subliminal occult tune that resounded off the stone walls and permeated the senses of those who were still sleeping.
Mass would begin in three to four hours. As a result, the sounds that she heard that sounded like thousands of voices caused her to become startled.
"We have arrived!" Mother Rose came to a halt in front of a metal door that, when touched, gave the impression of being hollow. It was enormous and intimidating, and the texture was icy cold.
It's a shame that nobody has been here in the past five years, with the exception of…" Mother Rose paused for a moment before picking her foot back up and running her fingers along the mechanical locks that filled the door.
Braces and gears were scattered across the surface, and she was muttering some words that were too quiet to hear but that Scarlet mistook for prayers.
There were some clicks, and the door opened with a squeak, both of which served to emphasize further the fact that the door required some oiling.
The room was warm and inviting, with long sofas and a fireplace whose embers were still blazing hot on the lovely rug.
Scarlet looked in askance at the Mother superior, trying to get her to explain what she meant by her earlier statement. Evidently, the room, which had the color of a sunset, had occasionally been serviced.
There were only candle lights on decorated stands similar to those found in temples, unlike Mother Rose's room, which had chandeliers.
They joined the embers in illuminating the stone walls, which were surrounded by a pungent mold odor and something else that Scarlet couldn't place but thought she may have smelled in the catacombs beneath the chapel.
Formaldehyde
She found herself attempting to hold back her screams as she looked at the large and bizarre paintings on the wall and ceiling.
The painted depiction of the gnarled fingers of an unidentified creature that appeared to be staring at her with great disgust was visible on the large room's arched ceiling, reaching out to her.
The length of the room was filled with medieval weapons, including halberds, axes, and short swords. The silvery, dusty sheen of armors and chain mail could be seen in some dimly lit nook, and in the wall opposite her was a sizable wardrobe with a glass door. These items were hidden from the eerie candlelight.
In addition to golden trophies, the furniture itself contained a variety of objects, including tubes and beakers filled with strange objects submerged in filthy liquid. It was fortunate that Scarlet was able to quickly cover her mouth with her hand and stop herself from throwing up on the plush rug.
The room itself resembled a noble lord's or senior statesman's drawing room that had been long neglected for one reason or another and given the lowest priority so as not to be cared for.
It was built like a room from the seventeenth century and had no modern amenities or technology.
It decreased the appeal of the rug and the Axminster by the fire.
This was something Mother Rose had also noticed, and her hawk-like brows knit together.
There was always the quiet assurance in her that Scarlet always believed that nothing escaped the older woman's notice, no matter how sudden it was.
"I'd like to clarify what I said earlier. I can tell that the headquarters have been busy recently. The woman appeared to be speaking to someone other than herself.
"Headquarters? What are you-" Scarlet's words stopped when a man lumbered with a slight limp from the opposite direction in a slow, carefree manner; close to an armor, he had been standing there with his hands folded in front of him.