Chapter Text
The sky outside was a mixture of blue and black hues when Angelica finally came to. It was the first thing her eyes landed on as they adjusted to the waking world again, although the full view was obscured by the metal detailing of the window above her.
She tried to ignore the throbbing of her head as she lay on her cold mattress- well no that would be wrong wouldn’t it? It was the pastor and his wife’s mattress after all. This was her room, not Angelica’s. And yet this is where she must sleep and try to ignore the chill of the chamber. She felt the warmth of another body next to her, but it wasn’t comforting in the slightest. He was too close.
Her limbs felt numb as she attempted to get up, they were reluctant to move to her will. This always seems to be the case when she loses control. Her body needed a moment to listen to its actual owner.
After what feels like more than a few minutes of her body stubbornly remaining static on the cold slab of bedding. She finally feels fit enough to actually move although it requires a little struggling.
The nun rubs her eye as she sits up slowly. Soft snoring came from the older man next to her, the only concrete signs that he was asleep. She made an effort to keep her movements silent to keep it that way.
Her eyes automatically did a scan of the room and landed on a garbage can full to the top with bloody tissues. She thinks she remembers about 13 of those being from yesterday, maybe 14.
She feels something drip down her face as she looks down and sees a red splotch now present on the cold stone floor. Another drip falls from her nose.
Ah, another one.
With mechanical movements Angelica finds the tissues in the dark, first dealing with her nose before heading to the floor. The stone floor was unnaturally smooth as she removed the red stain. Once the floor looked just as it was meant to, the now red tissues were added to the growing pile.
The bright moon taunted the nun from outside, like light peaking through prison bars. That’s all the church was for her. It wasn’t always so, this place used to feel warm like a place so holy should. It was her home, where she grew up, a place of comfort and peace.
Those feelings felt like a distant memory now, unfamiliar.
How could she feel safe here? One wrong move and every person, people she grew up with, would tie her to an alter. They would burn away her soul until the only thing left was a lie. It won’t be Angelica and it won’t be their beloved maiden. Only a tempter playing their game. Eyes were crawling on her skin constantly and the pastor’s calloused hand felt like shackles and her mind was barely hers and-
She must have breathed too loudly because the snoring suddenly stopped as her “husband” groaned.
The nun was frozen like a dear in the headlights.
…
She felt hands grabbing at the back of her mind.
…
The snoring continued.
…
Angelica found her breath again. She needed to get out of this room.
There was only one place in this prison where she could breathe as loudly as she wished.
———————————————-
Wind pushed the nightgown playfully around her ankles as she strolled through the moonlit courtyard. The breeze was cold, yet refreshing against pale skin. She took an inhale of cold air.
In and out.
Someone was still tugging for control.
In and out.
It was a cold night, she didn’t bring a coat either but she couldn’t find it in herself to mind right now. It was dark as well, but she probably knew her way around here better than her own mind.
There was a large apple tree at the very edge of the courtyard. It stood at the threshold of the church, right in front of the fence that caged it off from the rest of the world.
Angelica liked to read under its leaves when she was younger. She loved leaning against the giant plant. It was a comforting anchor, something that was always there. She would love eating its rich, tart apples underneath the afternoon sun, even when she wasn’t supposed to.
It was the only part of the church that still felt safe.
Warm.
She sat in the damp grass at the bottom of the giant. Leaning against the rough bark, she exhaled.
For the first time in months she let herself relax. Wind rustled her hair, moonlight painted the grass in an ethereal way, and everything was so beautifully still. Not in a sterile or mechanical way, not like the church.
Peace was the easiest way to describe it.
The comforting silence remained for several minutes as Angelica appreciated the calm.
Suddenly warmth seemed to bloom in the air, a comforting, holy warmth. In the corner of her vision she saw a bright light atop one of the branches.
“A little late for a garden stroll don’t ya think?”
The nun turned her attention towards the gruff voice and saw a familiar figure sitting atop the tree. He was glowing with a bright light that seemed all too holy for him.
“Well, maybe I prefer my strolls under the moon than I do the sun.” Angelica responded, her eyes drifting to a few branches silhouetted by the moon. Forcas hummed “A little depressing don’t you think? Besides, you could use the vitamin D.” he poked the back of her head from the branch he lay on.
She sent a half hearted glare towards the angel. “It’s more…peaceful. At night. And I’m the only one who comes out here anymore besides the gardener, so I guess it feels..” “Safe?” Forcas finished her thought. The nun gave a small smile. “I suppose so.”
“Guess I must be ruining the peaceful part huh?” He figured with an obnoxious grin. “Oh yes definitely.” He let out an offended little sound. “Well don’t you know how to make someone feel welcomed.”
There was a moment of silence. “…You don’t ruin the safe part though.”
Forcas seemed to lack a response for once, seeming to be in thought for a second. “Well if that weren’t the case I’d be bad at my job now wouldn’t I?” He was back to himself with a cheeky smile.
A comfortable silence bloomed between them for a few minutes. Angelica didn’t actually know that Forcas could manage being silent for this long, or at all really.
Suddenly a round object came tumbling into her lap from above. She turned over the green apple in her hands. It had a nice shine to it.
Her eyes found their way to where the apple fell from to find Forcus plucking another from the tree. “At least this place has apples, that’s something.” He took a large bite from the side before making a face like he just sucked a lemon. A few seconds more and he made a childish, overdramatic gaging face. “Ugh never mind, way too tart!” He glared at the fruit as if it personally offended him.
Angelica held back a chuckle at this manchild she was stuck with. “It’s a Granny Smith, that’s usually how they taste.” She responded before taking her own bite, savoring the sour taste on her tongue. The angel seemed to almost grimace at her enjoyment of the “too tart” flavor. “You're a weird lady.” “Or maybe I can enjoy something other than sickening sweetness.” He only responded to that with a half hearted huff.
The nun returned her attention back to the little past midnight snack. She doesn’t know if she actually remembers ever trying a different type of apple. She’s only really eaten the ones from this tree. Were there other sour ones? How different was every variety of one fruit?
How much about the world outside the church was she missing out on?
This wasn’t the first time the question came to her head, any child would wonder…but had she ever felt this trapped? Perhaps it’s because she was nothing but an actual prisoner here now. Clearly any love they once had for their fellow sister wasn’t enough to stop them from sacrificing her. Being out here is the safest she has felt in months. She wants to feel safe again. Free.
Even if…when her body is all hers again. She won’t be free. She’ll still have to act out the rest of her life as the pastor’s wife or she’d be a sacrificial lamb all over again. Freedom didn’t exist here. Not for her.
“I need to leave.”
The thought startled her, now that it was said. Forcas turned his head fully towards her. “You finally tired? Need to hit the hay?” Angelica couldn’t tell if he actually misunderstood her or not.
“No I…I need to leave the church…true salvation is impossible in this place.”
The nun felt hands clawing at her mind, screams of refusal at her decision.
Suddenly Forcas was next to her, back against the tree. She hadn’t noticed it before, but the moonlight didn’t seem to shine on him. It fell through the man. For once he actually looked somewhat ethereal.
Silence bloomed between them once again, full of thought.
“Y’know, half of me didn’t think you’d be up to it, leaving the church I mean.” Forcas started. “You humans always get attached to where you grow up, even if staying is unreasonable. I always get it…to a degree. I’m saying that…well I could tell that you’re a fighter. Maybe there’s no reason for me to actually be surprised. You’ve enough common sense to realize staying here is the worst choice.” Angelica’s focus was fully on the angel now. “…it won’t be easy. Well who am I kidding? None of this has been easy on you. But these cultists are determined, even more of a reason for us to get you far away from them. From the pastor as well.”
Forcas stood up fully, first gazing at the moon before Angelica. There was determination in her eyes. The determination of someone with a newfound goal.
“I did grow up here… and it has given me many happy memories. I’ve felt loved here…but I’m clearly not wanted anymore. Not for me anyway. A part of me is hurt to leave…but the other part yearns to feel free once again.” Angelica said, the words feeling too real now. She felt a small sense of anticipation at seeing the rest of the world. How warm would it feel?
Forcas gave the top of her hair a small ruffle. The nun looked up at him. He had a much softer smile on now. “You should head back to bed now. Can’t plan a prison break on such little sleep now can we?” He gave a playful wink. Angelica felt a genuine smile pull at her lips. “That’s one of your better ideas.”
She stood up from the damp grass, eyes peering beyond the fence.
Freedom has never felt closer than this moment.