Hunna was awakened by the soft, lilting melody of birdsong drifting through the open windowsill. As she stirred, a sense of unease settled over her. Her pale, sunken features and dull, listless eyes betrayed a deep weariness that seemed to permeate her very being. A throbbing headache and dry mouth only added to her afflicted state, making her feel almost lifeless.
Summoning her remaining strength, Hunna tried to get up, her knees weakening with each attempt. But finally, her legs obeyed, and she turned to face the mirror, the sight of which filled her with a growing sense of dread.
Peering into the reflection, Hunna found herself staring at the dark, haunting circles that had carved deep indentations beneath her brown eyes, making her appear worn and ill. Her gaze then drifted downward, settling on the fresh wound that marred her chest - a pulsating, agonizing reminder of her encounter with the creature that had left its mark upon her.
Hunna hated the pale, porcelain hue of her skin, as if it had never known the warmth of the sun. She loathed the scars that now adorned her once unblemished form, a testament to the horrors she had endured. Lifting her gown, she examined her body, her eyes tracing the pallid, lifeless flesh that seemed to have betrayed her.
A faint echo of the creature's words reverberated in her mind, sending shivers down her spine. "It ain't sinful, Hunna, this was meant to be." The weight of those words, laced with an unsettling conviction, unnerved her, causing her to lift a trembling hand to her head as her knees threatened to buckle.
Hunna tore her gaze away from the mirror, fearful of the sizzling, bloodied eyes that seemed to stare back at her. Dropping to her knees, she wrapped her arms around herself, seeking a brief respite from the turmoil that threatened to consume her.
The bruise on her chest and the angry red mark on her neck were undeniable proof that her encounter with the creature had not been a dream. This troubling realization only heightened her sense of vulnerability and despair. Pulling her knees to her chest, Hunna sat on the floor, feeling small and helpless, knowing that wallowing in self-pity would accomplish nothing.
Resolute in her determination, Hunna stood up and made her way to the washroom, running a hot bath and sinking into the soothing warmth of the water. As she closed her eyes, allowing the tension to melt away, a sudden jolt of pain seared through the mark on her neck, the burning sensation causing her to scream out in agony.
Hunna's hand instinctively reached for the mark, but to her surprise, the heat had already left a fresh scar on her palm. Puzzled, she trailed her fingers along the mark, feeling no further burning. This strange occurrence only heightened her sense of unease, and she knew she needed to seek Father Horton's counsel to help her understand and heal the wounds that burdened her.
Hunna made her way towards the entrance of the church, the cool, quiet air and the familiar scents that permeated the sanctuary providing a sense of refuge. The tips of her fingers brushed against her necklace, a small gesture that offered a measure of comfort as she contemplated how Father Horton might react to her affliction.
Hunna couldn't help but feel a lingering sense of nervousness around the priest, ever since she had first come to the convent. Whenever their eyes met, Father Horton would only stare at her briefly before turning away, his gaze filled with a pity that unsettled her. The recent events that had befallen her only fueled her suspicion that the priest might know more about her condition than he let on.
As Hunna approached the church, the sound of footsteps behind her caused her to whirl around, half-expecting to see the ever-present figure of Sister Sarah. Hunna had long since picked up on the sister's irrational dislike for her, a sentiment that had been brewing for over a year since Hunna had joined the convent. Despite her best efforts to be kind and avoid any conflict, Sister Sarah's disdain for her remained a constant source of unease.
"You are looking terrible," Sarah's calculating gaze swept over Hunna, her words dripping with a mocking tone.
"Have been better, Sarah," Hunna replied, mustering a weak smile, but Sarah was relentless.
"You don't look good to me," the sister continued, her eyes narrowing as she studied Hunna with a predatory gaze.
Hunna averted her gaze, unwilling to engage with Sarah's taunts. "If you'll please excuse me, I have important matters to attend to."
"Whoo, not so fast, Hunna. I'm not done talking," Sarah retorted, grabbing Hunna's shoulder with a vice-like grip.
"Please, Sister Sarah, let go of my hand. I really do have important matters to attend to," Hunna pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation.
"What's going on here?" Father Horton's voice suddenly cut through the tension, causing Sarah to immediately release her hold on Hunna.
"Father," both sisters said, bowing their heads in greeting to the priest.
"Come along, Sister Hunna," Father Horton said, gesturing for Hunna to follow him as he walked towards the entrance of the church.
"I don't think the church is the safest place to talk, Sister Hunna," the priest said, turning to look at her with a pensive expression. Father Horton could see the cloud of confusion that had furrowed her brow. "Follow me," he added, leading the way.
Father Horton and Sister Hunna walked in solemn silence, their footsteps echoing through the quiet halls of the convent. The reverent atmosphere surrounding them was a testament to their shared dedication to their calling.
As they approached the weathered wooden door to the priest's office, adorned with a modest cross, Hunna couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension. The gravel path crunched softly beneath their feet, the sound serving as a backdrop to the unspoken tension that hung in the air.
Father Horton, clad in his traditional black cassock, carried an aura of serenity that seemed to emanate from years of spiritual devotion. Beside him, Hunna, in her flowing habit, exuded a quiet grace, though her mind was burdened by the recent events that had befallen her.
As they entered the priest's office, a hallowed sanctuary awaited them. Flickering candles and the fragrant aroma of incense embraced them, instantly transporting them into an atmosphere of sacred tranquility. The room was adorned with religious artifacts, each carrying a story of devotion and spiritual significance.
Father Horton gestured towards the altar, where an open Bible lay, its pages whispering tales of ancient wisdom. A crucifix hung above, casting a shadow that seemed to dance with the promise of salvation. Hunna lowered herself onto a small prayer stool, her demeanor one of reverence.
In the presence of these sacred relics and the soft murmur of prayers, Father Horton and Hunna engaged in a shared moment of reflection. The priest, with a gentle gesture of his hand, invited Hunna to join him at the altar.
As Hunna cautiously approached the altar, an unsettling chill pervaded the air, causing her skin to prickle with an eerie sensation. The room seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, and the atmosphere became thick with an ancient, mysterious power. Hunna felt a sudden surge of dizziness, as though the very air she breathed carried an unnatural weight.
Unbeknownst to her, the demonic child growing within her womb responded to the arcane energies surrounding the altar. Her body, a vessel for both divine and sinister forces, trembled involuntarily. The room's temperature fluctuated wildly, creating an unsettling contrast between icy cold and feverish warmth.
Hunna, overcome by a sense of foreboding, clutched her abdomen as a subtle pain emanated from within. A soft, haunting whisper seemed to echo through the room, reaching into the depths of her consciousness. Unsettled, she took a step back, her heart racing as the oppressive atmosphere intensified.
The very walls seemed to absorb her fear, casting elongated shadows that danced in macabre patterns. Hunna's senses heightened, catching a glimpse of flickering shadows that seemed to move independently. Unseen eyes bore witness to her presence, and an ancient force recognized the unholy connection growing within her womb.
As the demonic child stirred, a strange and alien power intertwined with Hunna's very essence. The air thickened with an unearthly tension, and Hunna, oblivious to the impending darkness, retreated from the priest's altar. Little did she know, the encounter with the altar had set in motion a sinister destiny, linking her fate with the malevolent entity growing within.