Work Text:
She awoke to screaming; in her mouth and in her head. Sinew and flesh tore and transformed, blood coated her tongue and her new eyes rose towards heaven, seeking understanding as she swallowed. The chapel was silent, illumination from dozens of candles, the Cross of Christ hanging over the alter, her only rosary broken, the beads and prayers and pleas scattered on the cobbled stone, painted dark with the blood of the sisters, their bodies still and stiff.
Hunger burned in her, and she scrabbled, mind ringing, singing with the cries of her family, tripping as she touches their throats, torn and bloody and lifeless, the ache in her gut churning. Her hands are wet with blackberry blood; she sucks her fingers, slowly, thoroughly, the cold blood thickened with time. It’s like jam, sugary and sweet. Not enough.
The voices in her head reach a crescendo, an exultant hallelujah as her midnight angel appeared, knelt and offered her salvation.
“The Lord is with ye, child. He will take great delight in ye, he will quiet ye with his love, he will rejoice over ye with singing.” He bit his thumb and anointed her brow with his blood.