Chapter 2: A nun’s hysteria
She was brought to the basement of the church. Her hand clenched in the dimly lit hallway, the cold sweat on her back made her blue summer button up dress cling onto her skin. From this moment on, she would once again be addressed as another nameless child.
The church's orphanage was a kind front. The seemingly holy building had a chamber in the basement which was original a bunker for the townspeople during the bomb raids in the last Great War. After the Great War ended, the safety bunker was altered into a punishing chamber for the sadistic adults' entertainment whom managed the orphanage. Their authoritarian position fuelled their ego and pushed the innocent and well-intentioned orphanage to its sick and evil operations today.
The nun had a pleased look on her face when she finished chaining the child onto the cross. The child's small back faced her. Those eyes. That soft baby skin. Her perfect long hair. She hated it all.
Meanwhile, unaware of the adult behind her. She was regretting her decision to not tie her hair to the side or parting it discreetly in the car. She admitted that she might actually die from pain this time, even if the whipping wasn't as aggressive.
"Child. Do you know why you are here again?"
Like always. She didn't answer. Sister Jacque always asked a rhetorical question. If she answered, anger would be provoked. If she didn't answer, anger would still be provoked. Sister Jacque really like to justify her actions as holy divine judgement with her hypocritical words. Indeed Sister Jacque anger rose for no particular reason.
"Such a dishonest child. In the house of God, you dare to insult him with your vulgar appearance. You think that this place is your playground for you sexual deviance? I will do god's work and punish you ungrateful brat." Sister Jacque face flushed in excitement as she took a leather whip by her side and whipped the floor.
The sound made her flinch in reflex, making the nun smile further.
"That man seemed older than your previous fathers. How did it feel when he touched you at night? You vulgar body must have satisfied him."
'Sister Jacque is having another delusional episode.' She thought to herself.
She reacted when she heard the whip make its way across her back. The burning pain from her back instantly made her sweat. Before she could breathe, the whip lashed again and again. Each lash made her body burn. Her open skin, clothes and hair all stuck fused with the blood seeping out her wounds. There was no where to hide. She could only bear it.
She willed herself to not scream, learning that lesson the hard way years ago. It was better to keep silent until Sister Jacque tire herself out. Screaming would only serve as fuel for that woman. Her silence was the difference between living or dying in this dark place.
Sister Jacque kept on hitting her back, she did not realise when the child fainted. Nor did she care. The adrenaline in her body produced a euphoric feeling that could only be experienced whenever she saw beautiful things being broken in her hands since she was a child. Her eyes glimmered and sparkled with an expression of pure bliss.
"Sister Jacque?" The voice from the hallway called.
A small plump figure appeared and approached Sister Jacque. Her eyes lowered when she saw the bloodied scene before her. Even though she knew Sister Jacque's hobbies involved taking her anger out on the orphans. The sight of her actions still horrified her.
"Sister John. What seems to be the matter?" Sister Jacque's kind voice carried a hint of danger into Sister John's already nervous heart. She dared not to look up to her fellow sister. She had a feeling that if she did, she may die in this person's hands. Sister John regretted that she was the one that volunteered to go look for Sister Jacque and tell her of the news.
"There's been countless calls coming in to adopt that Chinese child." Sister John reported.
"Those people sure have sharp ears. Knowing already that she's back. Fine. I'll handle it. This cash cow still has some use." Sister Jacque disdainfully glared at the limo body of an eight year old before walking out of the basement.
Sister John nervously loosened the chains on her arms and legs before taking her inside the closest dungeon. She checked the child's vitals and sighed.
"Child. It can only be said that your life is destined to become our church's financial asset." Sister John concluded before she locked the dungeon and walked out the basement.
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