The Chamber of Sins

Heavy dusty curtains were pushing back the sun’s rays, keeping the room opaque and private. It would have been warmer if they had allowed the natural warmth inside; otherwise, it was freezing and depressing. Moreover, it stank of disinfectant and strong medicine. At the end of the room, close to the window, Alex was lying under a generous pile of blankets. His forehead was burning, perspiration covering his body like the dew envelops the grass in the morning.

From time to time, he would cry and struggle, turning the shits upside down. Somebody else was in the room, hidden in the dark, close by the boy’s bed. The person stood motionless, protected by the drab surroundings as if trying to hide from Robert’s glare.

As approaching the poorly boy, Robert sensed a sharp pain piercing his chest; the pendant started vibrating, and it got unbearably hot.

“He asked for you,” Sister Mary said. “We found him freezing, smitten by the building wall in the morning, bruises on his head. He kept saying that Anna is possessed. But, of course, it is not the case. We think he might have hit his head. He insisted on talking to you.”

“Okay,” Robert said, gazing at the still girl. She wouldn’t say a word, just staying there, with her hypnotic eyes watching his every movement. Troubled by the stinging sensation in his chest, the boy came closer. He was going to say something when Alex opened his eyes. His petrified, ghostly face simulated a smile as seeing him.

“She is the Devil,” Alex whispered, his dry lips moving slightly.

“Who is?” Robert asked.

Alex’s trembling arm lifted, and his finger pointed at Anna.

“She is,” Alex exhaled and started sobbing.

Robert scanned Anna. She looked normal to him, an amused smile looming on her face as she drew imaginary lines with her left big toe on the dark brown carpet. Her glazed eyes, like two immobile video cameras, didn’t blink, just focused on Robert’s chest.

“Sister Mary? Could I speak with Alex alone, please?”

Sister Mary nodded and, dragging the girl with her, trotted towards the door. The girl let herself pulled, and her head started rotating, and gradually she riched an inhumanly position of one hundred and eighty degrees. Her face was now entirly opposite her front body. Robert felt silent, his eyes studying the girl’s features. She is possessed, the boy thought. Before leaving the room, she smiled and sent him a kiss. The kiss materialised in the air like a fume wreath, which floated until it reached Alex’s bed. The thick fume wreath grew bigger and rushed to Alex’s chubby body.

Robert took his hatchet out quickly and split the circle in two. The two new forms imitated the first one in dimension and thickness. Robert cut them repeatedly until he found himself surrounded by hundreds of predatory balls. As Alex started coughing, asphyxiated by the aggressive attackers, Robert kept fighting with them, succeeding only in multiplying their number.

Where is Derek when I need him? His thought resonated like a command because, the next second, Robert saw the fume whirling like fugitive clouds in an autumn storm. In a few seconds, the room aerated, letting the imposing Derek’s stature be seen in the middle of the room.

“Needed help?”

Robert lifted his chin as he glared at the angel.

“Thank you,” Robert smiled mildly. He leaned on Alex’s body. The boy was alright, slightly confused and hyperventilating. After minutes of talking with him, he succeeded in making him calm down. It had been only a bad dream or a case of somnambulism. Robert will investigate further. Outside the room, he checked the hallway. It was empty, with no sign of Anna or sister Mary. He took out his phone, sent a text message, and left, followed by Derek. They will have to monitor the place. It was a red flag for the Order. Someone will have to stay there twenty-four hours a day.

Inside the store, Lionette was pensively comparing the two jars of goose fat - the one with the black label seemed an exquisite taste enhancer for a roasted chicken. She put it on the trolley and continued her way through the supermarket.

“Lionette? It is you?” a woman in her fifties approached. She looked fit, the extravagant costume underlining her athletic body. She took off her sunglasses and watched Lionette curiously with her hypnotising blue eyes. The woman’s noble face had a soft smile while noticing her tormented face.

“It’s me, Anabelle. Bella,” she said, amused by the woman’s confusion. “Mmm, we were neighbours years ago,” she completed while coming closer. “I have been looking for you. I couldn’t find where you moved. Nobody knew. I even went to Father Francis’s convent.”

Lionette squinted her eyes before remembering to put her glasses on.

“Anabelle,” she whispered. She took the woman’s hands in hers and squeezed them softly with affection. “How are you? How are your mom and dad?”

“Mom passed away three years ago,” the woman confessed, her eyes drowning in tears.

“I am sorry,” Lionette said sincerely.

“How is Brandon?”

“He is well. Oxford,” the woman said.

“Wow, the time flies. He is a grownup now.”

“He is,” Anabelle smiled nostalgically.

“How about you? How is Claire?”

Lionette didn’t respond, her eyes staring at the polished floor.

“Someone came looking for your family,” Anabelle continued.

Lionette’s eyes asked for more details.

“A woman. She had an accent, maybe Spanish. I told her you moved a long time ago. She asked for Father Francis. She seemed not to know Steve’s proper name. Someone told her his holy name. She left a note.”

The woman searched through her big bag and extracted her phone. After minutes of searching through it, she showed her a picture. A trembling hand wrote five words: I KNOW WHERE SHE IS.

Lionette started sobbing.