The air dropped. All eyes shot towards Era, but her gaze flicked up to the body floating above.
A man's, slack and probably dead considering his faintly blue hue, hung mid-air like a ghastly chandelier.
Everyone paused.
Then, in a moment that can only described as pure brilliance, Era stammered, "I'll… uh, just let you get back to it," and took a step back toward the doors, eyes unable to move from the floating corpse. Whatever freaky church aerobics session was going on, she wanted nothing to do with it, respectfully.
"Stop right there, Sister," boomed a voice from the back. It was deep, commanding, and distinctly annoyed.
Great, Era thought.
Her mouth acted faster than her brain. "Uh, that's okay. I need to go to the bathroom anyway," she blurted, hand fumbling for the door behind her. Not her brightest moment, but hey, survival mode isn't glamorous. I'd like to see you come up with something better.
A figure stood up, broad-shouldered and looming. Vicar Peter. Era's stomach sank. Not him too. What in holy hell had she just stumbled into?
"I think you should stay," he said, his voice carrying the weight of God's judgment. Don't let his words fool you—there wasn't a shred of suggestion in that statement.
Era submitted and obediently sat down on the nearest pew, her legs too wobbly to risk running. She had a feeling she wouldn't have made it that far anyway. He strode toward her, each step hammering panic further into the pit of her stomach. Era glanced around for help, but the nuns—her supposed sisters—were glaring at her like she'd just kicked their dog. Or, more accurately, interrupted their weird culty séance.
And then there was the cocaine. Mountains of it piled on the altar. She hadn't forgotten about that. Oh yeah - the drifting body too, just loitering up there. Honestly she could deal with the other things, but the body? The body was messing her up.
Ugh, she groaned.
Era felt a wave of weakness through her body.
"So this is the one you mentioned, Mother Superior?" Vicar Peter's eyes swept over Era like a butcher sizing up a cut of meat. Honestly, she'd normally be flattered but right now she was fighting off her brain's wired survival instincts to shut down.
"Yes," Mother Superior replied coldly. "She transferred here a month ago. We checked, and our contacts don't believe she's from H.V.N. But now I'm not so sure."
H.V.N.? What the hell was that? A code? A secret cult division? Era wondered.
Honestly she wasn't really all that bothered, not when pure betrayal churned in her gut. Era whipped her head towards Mother Superior in disbelief, and couldn't help shaking it in dissapointment.
She had bought her biscuits. NICE biscuits.
The sudden movement was a mistake. To add to that the body, as if on cue, flipped in mid-air to face her, its vacant, lifeless eyes staring into her soul.
Oh God. Oh no.
Yeah she didn't stand a chance. Her stomach rebelled.
Vicar Peter stopped before Era. His eyes narrowed, he opened his mouth to speak but she missed his next words. The sound of wrenching ( hers ) eclipsed all else as Era neatly vomited all over his shiny black shoes. Time froze. The air felt even heavier than before. He stared down at the mess pooling at his feet, his face a tableau of pure, unfiltered rage.
"Take her away," he barked, spraying her in enough saliva, Era felt he had equally evened the scales, "We'll deal with her later."
"We'll deal with her later"?! she wanted to scream, "Deal with WHAT? HOW?"
Two nuns approached, and suddenly all past confidence in her abilities melted away. They might have metal joints, but it was clear these nuns were not comparable to usual sweet grandmothers. Just as they neared, the body above them began to glow brighter. Pulsing. Almost alive.
"It's happening," Mother Superior whispered, clutching her rosary. "Quick! Everyone, to your positions."
What happened next involves some pretty dark scenes. A lot of which Era herself missed on account of throwing her guts up every now and then. (No one seemed to mind.)
To be honest, even the parts she did unwillingly witness, she couldn't really make sense of, much like every second since she had walked into this room.
The nuns scrambled into formation, a perfect circle around the floating corpse. Vicar Peter retreated as Mother Superior stepped beneath the glowing body, her expression serene yet unnervingly... ecstatic. She began to chant. The others joined her, their voices rising like a wave, synchronized and chilling. The language was foriegn.
Then it started. A blue, gelatinous substance began to seep out of the body's pores, oozing into thin air and dripping into glass flasks the nuns held out like they were catching honey. The corpse shriveled as it drained, flesh pulling tight against its bones, its glow dimming with each drop, until all that was left was a skin-coloured prune.
Era was shaking now, her legs trembling like a newborn deer. She had to get out. Forget this ever happened. Go find a therapist. Or an exorcist. Or an exorcist who was also a therapist.
Era took a step back, careful not to disturb the scene.
A mistake.
Mother Superior's head snapped toward her, her neck twisting at an unnatural angle. Her thin lips curved into a sadistic smile.
"Leaving so soon?" she said, lifting a bony hand.
Oh fuck no Era thought.
The air vanished from her lungs. A crushing force gripped my throat, invisible but suffocating. clawing at her neck, gasping like a fish on dry land, but it was no use. Mother Superior's hand rose higher, and Era's body followed, lifting off the floor. Era's vision blurred with tears, black spots dancing at the edges.
Era always knew she'd die like this—well, not exactly like this. She couldn't have predicted the intergalactic blue vampire cult thing. But the whole "murdered by creepy religious types" angle? Yeah. She'd prepared for something like this. Which is why, finally, instinct kicked in. Despite choking to death, Era was already fumbling for the pocket knife strapped to her thigh.
With the last ounce of strength, she yanked it free, muttered a prayer, and hurled it.
It whistled through the air. Glinting in the light. Unyielding. Strong.
And missed.
Damn.
She was really out of practise
But hey, it hit someone. Vicar Peter collapsed, clutching his neck as blood gushed between his fingers.
Eh, I'll take it, Era decided.
Everyone froze, their chanting stuttering to silence. She'd just pretend he was her target all along.
Yeah. Totally intentional. Take that, Era wanted to say.
Before she could savor her tiny victory, the crushing weight on Era's throat intensified. Mother Superior's face contorted in fury and she let out a demonic shriek. Era's vision darkened, the world slipping further and further away.
And then the ceiling exploded.